#there’s so much pain and longing for comfort bottled up inside

[oukabarsburgblr]

Oils and Incense [Masseur AU]

FEATURING : AITO SOUSUKE (OC) X male reader

Following your friend's suggestion, you went to a health & beauty spa, specifically for a massage and you're surprised to find a fellow student working there as a part-timer. What's that smell and why do you feel so hot? This was the wrong room? Your body won't be the only thing getting oiled up!

dubcon af, rough sex, aphrodisiac on both ends, shady reader(?), sousuke munching, profile

Find out more under the cut!

"All the rooms are full?"

The clerk standing at the register nodded with a polite smile on her face. (m/n) frowned, feeling the ache on his shoulder weighing on his figure.

It had been a harsh week for the (h/c), catching up on his assignments, managing his club activities and after sleeping on his desk for a week straight, his muscles were tense and in pain.

His friend, Daisuke, had suggested this place, a high-end beauty spa and of course it was expensive that motherfucker was loaded. But you decided to treat yourself, as a reward for getting through the semester and you drove over to the place after your classes.

Unfortunately for him, all the rooms are filled and busy.

"Well, we do have a private room available. Although it is usually booked in advance for regulars, I can make an exception for you." She winked at him, feeling sorry seeing the (h/c)'s tired expression. "I'll take it."

"And what kind of package would you like?"

(m/n) didn't bother reading the whole brochure, only skimming through the numbers. "Two hours, please."

The lady escorted her to the room, opening the door inside and (m/n) awed at the interior, fluffy flooring, multiple candles on mahogany cupboards with decorations to make the room more presentable with gold and green highlights with a warm lighting to compliment the whole design.

A massage table stood in the middle, layered with a white covered mattress and a hole for the face in the head area. "The rooms are designed for your privacy and comfort, thick walls and we provide a change of clothing afterwards. Your assigned masseur will be here soon." He thanked the lady and placed his bag on one of the lush seats.

(m/n) stood in the room idly, peering at the ceramic dishes and balls before hearing a conversation outside.

"Make sure you take the right incense and oils, okay. He's not one of the usual clientage." The woman from before seem to be speaking to someone. The masseur perhaps.

"Yeah yeah, I know." The voice replied with a drag, implying annoyance followed by a smack.

The door opened and (m/n) turned to see a familliar person, holding a basket of bottles and taper candles. Said person, with his long red hair in a claw clip with strands sticking to his forehead, froze seeing the (h/c). He had adorned the usual white piece, what masseurs would usually wear.

"You..." He seemed to be taken aback, although his face doesn't show much, (m/n) could definitely tell he knew him and vice versa as well. "...We go to the same university, right? Keio Shiki?' (m/n) broke the awkward silence with a nervous grin.

The redhead seemed to snap back out of his trance as he coughed into his fist and moved to one of the cupboards, setting up the session, placing the taper candles in its holders. "Yeah, we do." He replied dismissively.

"We shared a class once, too. Aito? Was that your name-?" "It's Sousuke. Just Sousuke." (m/n) tensed, nodding quickly as he rubbed his nape.

(m/n) had seen Sousuke around campus before, always alone and keeping to himself with his muted red hair that had always caught his attention. When they shared a class together, the (h/c) had attempted to converse with the redhead but was ignored or only received half-assed answers.

He only knew snippets about the redhead from his peers, who told him to stay away from the man, saying that he brought trouble everywhere he goes. However, (m/n) thought of otherwise.

"So you work here? I thought your dad runs a dōjō." It's not everyday you get to talk to the brooding guy in your prestige university, especially when he's supposed to service you. (e/c) eyes gazed at him with a smirk, teasing the redhead whose hazel ones squinted at him.

"...It's temporary. Until that old man gets off my back." He mumbled, lighting one of the candles with a long nozzle lighter, clicking it a few times. The (h/c)'s eyes still wandered, lingering on his muscular back the white uniform couldn't hide. "Do you remember me? You looked shocked when you first walked in here-"

(m/n)'s words were cut off as Sousuke promptly pressed a white fluffy cloth to his chest. "I do. (l/n)." The redhead emphasized, pushing the article on his chest with pressure. There's a hint of annoyance but (m/n) can see the tip of his ears turning red.

"You can call me (m/n)." His lips stretched a smile, cheekily looking up at the redhead through his lashes.

Sousuke stared for a second before turning away. "Change."

The (h/c) held the cloth Sousuke had given to him, it was literally just a white fabric meant to tie around his waist. "Just this-?" "Yes." Sousuke huffed as he turned back to the (h/c), his fingers snapping a pair of black latex gloves on his hands. "In other words, strip."

"Will do." (m/n) whistled, pulling his clothes off.

The redhead rolled his eyes, rummaging through the cupboards as the (h/c) had his fun teasing the former.

Sousuke did not expect the (h/c) as his customer for the evening. His father had sent him here for work since he had broken three sandbags at the dōjō, apparently his old man's friend owned the place and needed a pair of strong hands to cover a few shifts. Unluckily, Sousuke had been taking a degree in physical education so he was more or less qualified to work here.

However, the clerk suddenly called him on his break, saying that there was a fill-in in one of the private rooms, he was never allowed to step in there by the way, and the woman told him that there was someone looked like around his age while lecturing him about grabbing the right bottles or whatnot.

Sousuke had mindlessly grabbed the basket for the private rooms, there can't be much difference there can it? Probably just the brand itself or whatever.

Fuck, why is he here? Sousuke grumbled silently. He had known the (h/c), (m/n) (l/n) who had caught his eye ever since he walked on campus. His stupid cute smile, really nice build and those fucking thighs-

He snapped himself out of his thoughts hearing shuffles of clothing behind him as he lit the incense and waving the smoke around, letting it dissipate. Something smelled weird. He's dealt with incense before but this one smells more honey?

"I'm done."

The redhead had to stop himself from looking too much as he ushered the (h/c) to lay stomach down on the massage table.

(m/n) pouted, seeing the redhead was quick to place him down as he straddled the massage table, putting his head in its place and his face facing the floor through the hole.

Sousuke helped him place his legs on the rest of the table, his large gloved hands pulling his calves up before setting it down, avoiding looking at the (s/c) presented before him.

The (h/c) felt like he was purring in bliss. "It smells...sweet?" "It's the candle. Nothing much." Sousuke reassured (m/n) and himself, he had never used this specific candle before.

Taking a bowl of warm water, he placed three different sizes of ceramic balls or spheres, letting it sit in the liquid while the (h/c) attempted to start a conversation with him. "How've you've been? Anything interesting coming up?" "None of your concern." (m/n) scrunched his nose at the immediate rejection.

Was the room supposed to be this hot?

He felt warmer than usual, the blood rushing to the lower part of his body. (m/n) continued staring at the carpeted floor beneath him, talking to the redhead. "My team is having a practice match next week. With a university in the next town over."

Tilting the glass bottle, Sousuke dripped the oil in his gloved hands before rubbing them together, warming it up. "So?" "Will you come watch?" He huffed. "For what?"

"For me." There's a hint of flirt and Sousuke had to take a breather before nearing the laying (h/c), avoiding looking at his (s/c) legs. "I'll start now." "What-?"

(m/n) bit his tongue to prevent a moan from escaping his lips when warm gloved hands pressed on in between his shoulders. Fingers moving around, testing the waters as Sousuke gently spread the oil on his back like slicing butter on a piece of bread.

When the redhead felt the skin beneath him less tense, he slowly pressed his fingers deeper, kneading the muscle beneath him, rubbing his thumb in the notches and crooks of his shoulder blades.

Then he moved upwards, trailing his hand and poured more oil directly on (m/n)'s shoulders, letting it stain the cushioned table and he dipped his fingers in the skin between his neck and his shoulder, inching closer to his chest as he massaged his clavicle.

Sousuke was wondering why was the chatterbox underneath him was quiet. Usually customers would let out a satisfied groan every now and then. Maybe it was better for the redhead himself, not having to answer to the (h/c)'s incessant questions.

Beads of sweat dripped down his forehead, sliding down the tip of his nose. (m/n) was holding in his breath, his eyes rolling to the back of his head when Sousuke's fingers massaged his nape, pressing his knuckles on the base of his neck, letting the pressure subside when he reached his hairline.

He had been holding in gasps and groans from his throat, feeling so pleasured with the service he's receiving. He felt more fired up than usual. (m/n) almost released a whine when Sousuke pulled his hands away, walking over to the front of him, where the bowl of water was and (m/n) stared at his legs, licking his lips.

"...Everything okay down there?"

Yeah I want you down here- "All's good." (m/n) felt his cheeks flushed, trying to focus back but his mind was foggy, all fuzzy and warm, he couldn't keep his head straight only thinking about those nice thick gloved fingers touching his skin.

Sousuke carefully picked up the smallest ball, placing it in the middle of (m/n)'s back, the latter letting out a noise of confusion. "It's a new thing they brought in. Constant pressure isn't good but the warmth helps and we've been receiving positive feedback..." The redhead muttered, stabilizing the sphere.

"Is it okay for you?"

(m/n) nodded drowsily. "Yeah, yeah. Anything's good from you." Sousuke's mouth gaped from the comment before looking away, grabbing the second ball while ignoring the butterflies raging wildly in his stomach.

"Don't move." He mumbled, balancing the second ball on his upper shoulders, near his nape. He rolled it around, using it as a tool before letting it rest on (m/n)'s body. Sousuke was unaware of the drooling (h/c) who was resisting the urge to utter the most sinful things human beings have ever heard.

The redhead paused, his steps stopping as he gazed at the taper candle, his eyes brimming suspicion before (m/n)'s voice brought him back to reality.

"Hurry up." He whined. Sousuke gritted his teeth, his cheeks warming at the cute noise the other had mewled out. "Be patient." (m/n) grinned. "Don't think you're supposed to talk back to your customers."

He heard the redhead sighed, his legs coming into his line of sight and Sousuke's face suddenly appeared close to his. "And I don't think you should be acting like a brat but here we are. Be quiet...and let me do my job." Hazel eyes stared up at him, his position crouching on the floor near the massage table.

(m/n) was silent, taken aback by the sudden proximity of his handsome face. He definitely got hard. "... Yes, sir." Sousuke groaned in annoyance, immediately standing back up, secretly adjusting his pants.

Immediately, he retrieved the third sphere, letting them all line up on (m/n)'s lower back, the latter letting out a guttural groan at the pressure. Hazel eyes leered at the (s/c) legs on display, sighing lowly as he poured another batch of oil on his gloved hands.

Steadily, he placed his hands on the (h/c)'s thighs, near the cloth and he dragged his palms down, pulling the muscle and knots all the way down to the ankle. Heat was looming all around his crotch as he massaged (m/n)'s foot, rubbing his fingers in between the appendages.

"You're like...mmn- really good at this."

Sousuke heard the drowsy comment from the mouth at the other end. "I work here. It's my job." "Wasn't it temporary?" "As I've told." "Wish it wasn't. I'd come for you everyday."

(m/n) was slurring his words, his cheeks flushed, his dick hard and sweat was dripping from his face to his nose. Fingers massaging him all over, caressing his thigh, pushing his skin and god he wished those fingers were in him.

Just fuck me- The (h/c) grinned to himself, not noticing the reddened masseur who pulled away, grabbing the spheres as well, eager to end the session already.

"Sit up. We'll work on your front next." "...My front?" "Yes. Is there a problem?" Sousuke went to grab a pillow to fill the hole in the head area so (m/n) could lie down on it but when he turned around, the (h/c) was on his side, his face looked embarrassed and he looked away when Sousuke's eyes travelled down to (m/n)'s crotch.

"...It's normal." The (h/c) frowned, mad that Sousuke isn't getting the hint. What the hell? Is it normal for customers to get hard after you massage them or what? (e/c) eyes glared at Sousuke, who was panicking in his head.

"And if I say it's intentional?" "I won't believe you."

He couldn't deny his slight attraction to the (h/c) and what the fuck why does he feel so hot right now? Sousuke staggered when the loop of his pants was tugged.

"Is it normal for you to get hard too?" (m/n) whispered into his ear, huffing his warm breath into the shell of Sousuke's ears that flushed at the contact.

The redhead looked down and he was indeed hard. Had he not noticed the whole time? Sousuke pulled away, facing the cheeky (h/c) who was kneeling on the table, the cloth around his waist barely hiding his erection and an amused expression on his face.

"Stop that." "You don't hate me." "I can." "I don't think you will."

What? Sousuke pressed his lips into a thin line, his head dizzy. (m/n) was so lax around him, closing the gap he had with others, toying with his boundaries like he was edging the redhead, wanting to draw a reaction out of him.

It's the same when they had first met too, when they shared a class. To (m/n), it was normal but to Sousuke, it was thrilling and confusing.

He was melting under the (h/c)'s gaze, his lips quivering and he felt his eyes water. "Are you flirting with me?" (m/n) purred. "Maybe." He winked and held out his hand.

The redhead swatted it away. He can feel his sweat building up on the collar of his uniform. (m/n) looked like a meal in front of him but he couldn't, his heart conflicted.

"Don't...play about these things. Don't toy with me." Sousuke stated, him placing down the pillow, covering the hole in the massage table, (e/c) eyes following him. "....I'm not."

Sousuke clenched his jaw, his neck tense as he felt fingers inching on his nape, tugging his claw clip. He yelped, his hair now loose, red strands laying on his back as the redhead glared at the (h/c).

(m/n) clipped the hair accessory onto his own tresses. "You should kick me out. I'm harassing you and all, aren't I?" The redhead stared at the now sitting (h/c) who swung his feet back and forth. He glanced at his hair clip on the (h/c)'s head.

"I ought to." "...You're hot, Sousuke." A cough escaped his lips, exasperated at the sudden confession. The redhead scrunched his eyebrows in confusion. (m/n) gleamed at him, glancing at the taper candles behind him.

"If you wanted to have sex with me, all you had to do was ask." "What?"

"You think I don't see that?" (m/n) jutted his chin to the candle holder behind Sousuke, the one he had lit up earlier. "Lucky Clover. Common choice but it does its job."

Sousuke snatched the candle out of the holder, blowing out the flame, his eyes scanning the brand name edged on the side of the candle. He had grabbed the wrong basket. "I didn-"

"Haa...now I'm all hot and bothered. It's not fair you're not as affected as I am." "I took the wrong candle. I didn't mean to-" "Whatever was your intention, it doesn't matter." (m/n) rested his chin on his palm, his body was coated with sweat, his back smooth with the oils Sousuke had rubbed in earlier.

"I have at least an hour and a half left. Now come here and do your job, masseur."

Something snapped inside the redhead at that moment, something raw and viscous. His feet slowly moved to the (h/c), settling behind him and grabbing a bottle of oil.

Sousuke should have never denied the attraction he had for the (h/c). His words that jumbled his thoughts, his eyes that made his legs quiver, his tongue that flicked against his teeth that made the redhead desire to grab his neck so he can-

(m/n) leaned his back against Sousuke's chest with a satisfied sigh, smudging the redhead's white uniform. Biting his lower lip, he grinned while staring at across the room. Sousuke was something (m/n) had wanted to solve, it wasn't a priority, but with the massages and the oils, it was like a candlelit dinner for him.

The claw clip was pulled from his hair, Sousuke swiping (m/n)'s hair back and clipped it in properly, (m/n) rubbed his cheek on the redhead's hand, the latter not responding and the (h/c) heard him picking up a glass bottle.

Slippery liquid trickled down his chest, Sousuke tilting the whole bottle on (m/n)'s torso letting it trickle down onto the (h/c)'s crotch. He placed the bottle aside, cracking his fingers. The redhead placed his arms underneath (m/n)'s own, looming his hands over his body before placing it flat against the (h/c)'s chest.

(m/n) gasped when Sousuke cupped his pecs, rubbing his nipples in between his fingers. "Mmnn!" He mewled as the redhead continued his work, massaging his man tit, rubbing his hands up and down as (m/n) gripped Sousuke's arms.

He squirmed when Sousuke's movements became rougher, squeezing his chest and essentially groping him. The redhead's right hand trailed down and rubbed the oil all over his stomach, kneading it into his side.

(m/n) was wrong when he had stated that the redhead was not affected as he is. The redhead had only not noticed. His will is strong, not something that is easily swayed by a mere candle.

Sousuke had bear flirts, jabs, and allure from the (h/c). He's a man. He has sensual passion. Although the redhead simply locked his aptitude to bite back deep inside himself. However, (m/n) was brave. Almost like he was aware Sousuke would let him trample all over him.

Hovering his tongue over the (h/c)'s shoulder, he licked a stripe experimentally. (m/n) flinched, his head turning to the side, looking with his glossy (e/c) eyes. He was panting disheveledly, Sousuke's hand still playing with his chest, gripping the fat and pinching his nipple.

The redhead leaned in closer, his face close with (m/n)'s and their breaths mixed. (m/n) was staring at the masseur's mouth, gazing over his lips and the redhead was looking for any sign of desire in his eyes until (e/c) met hazel.

There was only pure unholy lust. Sousuke pushed his mouth towards (m/n)'s awaiting lips. The latter moaning as they mushed their tongues together, exchanging drool and (m/n) was so excited as he sucked on the redhead's muscly organ.

"Aanh haa ah ah!"

Sousuke's right hand went lower, cupping (m/n)'s erection as he squeezed it lightly. The (h/c) bit his lower lip in response, the redhead gasping as (m/n) stuck his tongue inside Sousuke's mouth.

Tearing the fabric at (m/n)'s waist off, Sousuke grabbed (m/n)'s cock, pumping it up and down, earning whines from the (h/c). It was so slippery, so easy to move with the oil coating (m/n)'s skin and Sousuke gave no mercy to the (h/c) whose hips started to stutter in his hold.

(m/n) bucked his hips, loving the attention his cock was receiving as he pulled away from the makeout session. "I-I'm close- nggh ahh ang ahh!"

Ropes of cum spurted from his tip as Sousuke gripped his base, dragging out (m/n)'s orgasm. His hazel eyes had a fire in them, one (m/n) had ever since Sousuke laid his hands on him.

Drool seeped from his lips, (m/n) was in a daze as Sousuke laid his body on the massage table, letting him lie stomach down. He shivered when he felt the redhead pour more oil on his bottom, the liquid dripping on his ass, seeping and touching his twitching hole.

"You wanted this." Sousuke grunted, pulling off of his sticky uniform, revealing his sexy sweaty torso. His hand rubbed one of the (h/c)'s asscheeks before bringing it up and slapping it. The (h/c) yelped at the contact and Sousuke spanked him again, rubbing the oil on the cheek before swinging his gloved hand back down.

"Ah! F-Fucking- ah!" (m/n) screamed, feeling his cock twitch every time Sousuke smacked his ass. His hips stuttered he felt the redhead gripped and spread his ass, revealing his perky hole, Sousuke dipping his covered thumb in experimentally and scratched his rim.

Whining endlessly, (m/n) flinched as Sousuke spat on his hole, feeling the cold liquid trickle down. The redhead pulled his hips up, (m/n) hugging the pillow for stability, his nails digging into the fabric and pushing his face into the pillow.

Sousuke laid his tongue flat against (m/n)'s balls, licking up until he reached the wet entrance and he pushed a finger in, hearing a squeal from the (h/c). Digging inside, he shoved another gloved finger in to spread the hole with a scissoring motion. The (h/c) could only emit muffled cries, staining the pillow with his saliva.

The redhead licked his hole, a flinch from (m/n), and he pushed his tongue inside, brushing his fangs against (m/n)'s rim. He kissed, licked and spat on the twitching entrance, taking his time and ignoring the begging (h/c).

"P-Please- mmn ahh! I-I'm sorry- ungg mmn!"

Sousuke didn't want an apology from the (h/c). All he cared about was the ass in his hand he was eating right now. The redhead sucked on (m/n)'s balls while pistoning his fingers in and out of the (h/c)'s puckered hole.

He stopped when a hand grabbed his arm, Sousuke glaring down at the crying (h/c) whose back was facing him. "T-Too much. I'm s-sorry- mmn!" (m/n) cried, his tears and drool wetting the pillow under him.

"...Then what do you want?" Sousuke asked nonchalantly as he released (m/n)'s hips, letting him drop onto the table. (m/n)'s lower half was trembling.

"I w-wanna suck you off..." "Is this your apology?" (m/n) shook his head. "I want your c-cock in my throat." He mumbled.

Sousuke stared at him, (m/n) tried to calm down his nerves but his entire body was so hot, the oil covering almost every inch of his skin. "Get on the floor." He heard the redhead ordered.

Shakily, (m/n) pushed himself off of the table, landing on the floor on his knees with a pitiful whine. He turned to the unimpressed redhead who stood, his back leaning against the massage table, his flowing red hair framing his gorgeous face.

"I don't understand you, (m/n)." Sousuke mumbled, grabbing his jaw when the (h/c) inched closer to his crotch while on his knees, his (s/c) glistening under the warm spotlight.

Caressing the (h/c)'s inner thigh with his shoe, Sousuke gazed at his dripping dick, raising his line of sight to (m/n)'s panting flushed face. "You don't have to..." The (h/c) closed his eyes, enduring the tightening still gloved grip Sousuke had on his face.

"You're so...confusing. Pushing my buttons, testing my limits. I'm a man, (l/n)." (m/n) nodded drunkenly. "Handsome man..." He slurred and Sousuke rolled his eyes at that and extended his hand into (m/n)'s face who pulled off the drenched latex gloves with his teeth.

"I can't believe you're into this shit." The redhead raised his bare hand, slapping (m/n)'s face, not too hard but enough to leave a red mark. "You like this? You like getting slapped?"

Sousuke smacked the (h/c) again, who only cried out wantonly, his body leaning closer to the redhead's. "Does your friend know? That you're a fucking freak." (m/n) shook his head, tears threatening to spill from the corner of his eyes.

"I'm supposed to be special then?" (m/n) couldn't even talk properly, getting slapped for the third time. He only slobbered, his eyes peering up at Sousuke's hazel ones. "I-It hurts..." He whined.

The redhead released his tight hold, carressing (m/n)'s cheek. "Went too far, huh? Least' I know your limit now." He gently stroked the (h/c)'s reddened cheek fondly, as if its a way for him to say sorry. (m/n) purring into his touch.

Extending his hand, (m/n) tugged Sousuke's pants, sticking his tongue out eager to suck his cock. The redhead scoffed, his face expressing amusement. "You're cute, y'know?" The (h/c) pawed at the redhead's zipper, pulling it down and shuffling his pants off.

Sousuke pushed his briefs down, his hardened cock springing out and (m/n)'s eyes brightened, his tongue drooling and he whined even more, leaning closer into the redhead. Sousuke cooed, running his fingers through the (h/c)'s hair and he pulled the hair clip off, placing it on his own head.

(m/n) placed his tongue under Sousuke's tip, sliding it gently as he licked the base, caressing the veins. The redhead groaned, bucking his hips and accidentally gripped the (h/c)'s hair. Moving his head forward, the (h/c) took the long cock in his mouth, slobbering his spit all over the shaft.

It was a wonder how their dynamic switched. When (m/n) had first walked in, he was so adamant at poking at the redhead, now he was the one on his knees, sucking Sousuke's cock so desperately.

His cheeks hollowed as he hummed, (m/n)'s palate being grazed and the tip touching the back of his throat. He choked and coughed, Sousuke wanting to pull back but (m/n) grabbed his hips and shoved his own face into the redhead's crotch, his chin touching his balls.

"Anngg- mmff!" Sousuke held onto the table, his fingers clenching on the cushion as he closed his eyes, hot pleasure focusing on his dick and the (h/c). Cum shot from his tip and he was ready to pull out but (m/n)'s nails dug into his hips as he hissed in pain. Sousuke pulled his other glove off with his fangs.

The (h/c) sucked everything he could muster out of the redhead, letting the semen pool on his tongue as he shakily stood up and grabbed Sousuke's face, pushing his tongue in so the redhead could have a taste of himself.

Sousuke choked and gagged as the (h/c) shoved his tongue into his mouth as they stumbled, the redhead's arms around (m/n)'s waist and the latter around his neck. They planted themselves back onto the massage table, (m/n)'s back lying on the stained cushion and he spread his legs.

"Put it in." He breathed out, staring at hazel eyes who gazed back at (e/c), their sweaty foreheads touching each other. Sousuke took a breather and he adjusted himself, pumping his cock and lining it up against (m/n)'s hole.

"Just a second." The redhead spoke, he leaned forward, (m/n) stupidly clinging onto his body and rubbing his cheek against his face as Sousuke grabbed a decanter, biting the cork off and spitting it on the floor. The (h/c) rubbed his dick against the redhead's abs, letting his precum smear all over the rockhard muscles.

Sousuke pushed (m/n) to make room, tilting the decanter and pouring oil onto the (h/c)'s thighs, the liquid dripping down onto his ass and the redhead used his fingers to push it into (m/n)'s throbbing hole.

He also spilled the oil onto his own body, letting it drip from his chest and onto his dick, (m/n) now thrusting his hips to get the redhead's attention. "I know, I know." He mumbled, brushing his lips over (m/n)'s forehead.

Carefully, he held the (h/c)'s waist, adjusting both of them and he pushed in, the slippery oil letting him thrust all of his cock in one go. (m/n) let out a satisfied mewl, his thighs shaking as Sousuke pulled his cock out until only the tip nestled inside the twitching anus.

"Aannh ann ah ah ha ahh!" (m/n) wailed as the redhead began to pound himself with wet sloppy noises emitting around the room. Their squelching was so loud, the oil making their skin soft and wet as it smacked together.

Sousuke licked the (h/c)'s ear, his fangs biting the shell as the (h/c) spread his legs even wider, letting his ankles dangle in the air and the redhead slapped his inner thigh. "God you should've came here earlier." Sousuke groaned into (m/n)'s ear who nodded ferverently.

"Fuck fuck fuck." The (h/c) cussed with a moan , every time the redhead's cock kissed his prostate, his shaft dragging against his walls. Sousuke poured more oil on his base, as he pushed (m/n) down on the table, humping and fucking his meaty cock into his drenched ass.

The candle's waft still lingered in the air, although not as intense as earlier but (m/n) wished that it would last longer. His untouched cock was flicked by the redhead's fingers and (m/n) came, cum shooting out of his stimulated penis and it landed on both of their chests.

Sousuke wanted to kiss the (h/c), however he opted to graze his neck and sucked on the skin there instead, leaving hickies and marks. His hips stuttered as he shallowly thrusted into (m/n)'s bottom, his orgasm arriving and reaching its peak and (m/n) locked his ankles around the redhead, forcing him to still and cum inside his ass, filling his hole with his white batter.

(m/n) pulled Sousuke by his hair away from his neck and crashed his lips onto his and their teeths clashed. There were biting and saliva dripping from their chins, the (h/c) pushing his hips, indicating his want for a second round.

Sousuke climbed onto the massage table, asking (m/n) to kneel like him and he positioned himself behind the (h/c). He rammed himself inside (m/n) who arched his back and started to bounce himself on Sousuke's lap in time with his thrusts.

The redhead hands sneakily cupped (m/n)'s chest, groping his pecs and rubbing the skin. (m/n) whimpered when Sousuke scratched his nipple with his nails, pinching and twisting it as he continued slamming himself in and out the (h/c)'s throbbing hole, his previous cum spilling and dripping out of (m/n)'s rim.

(m/n) turned his face to the side, his (e/c) eyes begging Sousuke for a kiss as he stuck his tongue out. The redhead obliged licking (m/n)'s lips and kissing him again, them sloppily making out for the nth time already. The table shook with each thrust, shockingly still able to support the two.

Sousuke came inside the (h/c) again while (m/n) was pushing his ass back desperately for his own orgasm, the redhead gritting his teeth as (m/n) prolonged his climax by using his cock like a joystick.

Both of them lost any sense they had as they succumbed to their arousal, having sex on the table as much as they could. (m/n) was having the time of his life getting slapped, used like a fleshlight, begging Sousuke to fold him into many position and the redhead indulged in his cries, pushing him up against the cupboard, forcing him to ride his cock and they only stopped when the clerk had came back, knocking on the door while Sousuke was pushing (m/n) into a mating press.

"Is everything alright in there? Aito, the session is supposed to be over."

The redhead grunted out a half-assed response as he covered (m/n)'s mouth and quickly fucked himself inside the (h/c) making them both cum. (m/n)'s body was sweaty and slippery, his skin covered in oils and bite marks, his neck filled with hickies and his ass was dripping spit and cum.

Sousuke pulled the (h/c), pushing him and himself into the small shower station they had and quickly washed themselves clean, (m/n) begging the redhead for one last round and he unceremoniously followed through, making the (h/c) cum on his cock under the pouring shower head.

The redhead forced (m/n) to help him clean, changing the cushions, wiping the floor, throwing away the candle tapers so the clerk won't lecture him for using the wrong ones. Sousuke checked everything, making sure he didn't leave any evidence behind as he changed the drowsy (h/c) into a simple clothing the spa provided for customers.

He packed (m/n)'s clothes and his dirty uniform into a paper bag, clocking himself out of his shift as he left the spa hurriedly with the (h/c) hugging him fondly. Sousuke made sure to drive (m/n) back to his dorm with the latter's car, not trusting him to arrive safely as the (h/c) immediately passed out in the passenger's seat.

-

"(m/n), someone's looking for you." His classmate called him, the (h/c) lifting his head from the table he was sitting in. The class had just ended and (m/n) wanted to stay behind to finish his notes before his classmate yelled for him.

It had been three days since the whole massage thing and he couldn't find the redhead, not even at the spa. Hilarious to think that (m/n) actually went back searching for him but the clerk informed him that Sousuke asked for a few days off, him claiming that he had exams to study for and the (h/c) frowned, knowing that the redhead was avoiding him.

Understandably he was taken aback when he was met with the sight of the abashed redhead, who was standing with his hair still clipped in that purple accessory, his shoulder bag on his side.

"I thought we should go on a date. After that whole y'know." Sousuke handed him a singular sunflower, its stem jagged and (m/n) could tell that he didn't bought this at the florist.

(m/n) caressed the petals as he laughed. "Now which poor gardener did you stole from?" The redhead jabbed his finger behind him, the window showing the university's prestige courtyard with many beautiful flowers blooming, people won't notice one going missing.

"How sweet." The (h/c) smiled and Sousuke looked away, his ears reddened. "Let me grab my bag first. Where are we going?" "Eat. You need some meat if you want to win that practice match."

(m/n)'s heart fluttered, Sousuke remembered the practice match he had mentioned and he took it as a sign of him attending it for him as he hurriedly retrieve his books, shoving it in his bag as he skipped to the redhead.

"Told you I wasn't toying with you." The (h/c) teased Sousuke as he hugged his bicep. The redhead only rolled his eyes, letting (m/n) hang off of his arm as they walked through the hallway, earning weird looks from the rest of the students.

"The sunflower reminds me of you." Sousuke quirked an eyebrow, he had only chose said flower because it was the biggest one in the flower patch. "A flower?" "The sun." The redhead was silent, not understanding what he meant but shrugged. He'll let his potential boyfriend run his mind in weird places.

"Say...do you have it?" "Have what?" (e/c) gleamed up at the redhead. A knowing grin on (m/n)'s face as Sousuke slightly opened his shoulder bag, letting (m/n) peek inside.

The same candle taper, a new one, Sousuke had grabbed some from the spa. He'll cover a shift or two later and (m/n) kissed his cheek, the latter flinched and blushed heavily.

"Can't wait." The (h/c) was now pushing the redhead, eager to start and finish their lunch date so he could make room for their raunchy dinner that would last from the early evening to the dead of night.

[END SCENE]

[unedited]

Afterthoughts :

profile

I had debated the plot for this au but i didnt want it to be some random drugged bunny fuck so theres the convo, the trifling comm, and the buildup there. Everything is better w feelings involved and its good if its one that makes u think, its what gives character

I wished this fic was what debuted sousuke on my page argh. this might be my proudest work yet. When i meant rough I meant ROUGH

This will probably be my last one before i disappear for a couple of weeks. I'll reply to stuff but to post nahhh new sem starts soon so imma be super bz.

Haha i got happy cuz ppl commented on my last post so i shat this one out as quickly as i could.

comment lots and ill post lots mkay🍖

#bottom male reader #sub male reader #x bottom male reader #x male reader #male reader #male reader smut #oukabarsburg #aito sousuke #oc x male reader #oc #oc x reader smut #oc smut #oc x reader #Spotify #rough smut

[weardes]

#suburra #aureliano adami #spadino anacleti #my gifs #the way he immediately tries to stifle a sob when Spadino sits down beside him #holds his breath #and then exhales very slowly #with control #there’s so much pain and longing for comfort bottled up inside #pls let yourself go bby and cry into your boyfriend’s shoulder #you know you need it #also that’s probably a little weird but I just love how Aureliano SoUnDs in this episode? #all these scenes with Livia where he’s like a raw nerve #he breathes hard through his nose and huffs and cries and growls like a wounded animal #when he says ‘I’ve been many things to you but never a boss’ #so low and choked and resigned and just so so sad I can’t even *inhuman screeching* #when he sees the dead bodyguard and calls Livia’s name desperately #and his voice breaks because he’s so afraid he’s going to lose her again #when he cries over Livia’s body like a little boy #and then this scene on the beach #top quality sounds my man #i want to crawl into a hole and die

[lysenfeu]

Cheque Please!

Rating: Explicit 18+

Pairing: Eddie Brock/Venom x Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Prompt: Public

Summary: Venom gets a little too enthusiastic after you offer him a treat on date night with Eddie. Content: Smut (F/M), Semi-public sex, Alien sex, Tentacles/tendrils, Oral sex (F receiving)

A/N: I love my scrunkly journalist and his goo husband so much, absolute menaces the pair of them.

[Read on AO3]

[Kinktober 2023 Masterlist]

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Date night with Eddie was your favourite night of the week. This time he'd taken you out to a cozy Italian place with plush seating and gorgeous decor. You had spent the evening laughing at Eddie's ridiculous work stories and eating some of the best pasta you'd ever had. Now at the end of the night, you were comfortably buzzed after splitting a bottle of red wine and you were thoroughly enjoying your time with your adorable boyfriend.

The server approached your table and quickly cleared your empty plates before placing a small menu in front of you. "Are you interested in any coffee or dessert?"

An image on the front of the menu caught your eye immediately, an absolutely decadent-looking chocolate cake. Eddie must have seen the look on your face as he chuckled and promptly asked the server to bring you a slice. You were delighted when it arrived looking exactly like the picture. After the first bite, you’d thought you might have died and gone to heaven. Savouring every bite of the rich, velvety chocolate treat reminded you of a certain inky black someone with a sweet tooth. 

Of course, everywhere Eddie went, Venom was with him. Never alone and never apart as Venom liked to say. The inseparable pair had revealed themselves to you awhile ago and after the initial shock of finding out the cute guy you’d been dating had an actual alien inside him, Venom had grown on you. You knew he was simmering somewhere under Eddie’s skin, seeing and hearing everything but knowing not to reveal himself too obviously.

"Hey, does the big guy want a bite?"

YES!

The symbiote roared to life in Eddie’s mind and he rolled his eyes at the overager tone of his other half.

"He does but he really doesn't deserve any. He’s been an absolute pain lately" Eddie's jacket sleeve wobbled a little, Venom subtly showing off his annoyance with his host's comments.

You pouted at your boyfriend. "Aw, come on babe. He can have a little bit."

AGREE WITH HER! SHE IS SMARTER THAN YOU.

Eddie sighed in resignation. "Alright, fine. But only if he promises to not be seen and behave." He did his best to glare at the alien in silent warning internally. Venom slipped out of Eddie's sleeve and dropped beneath the table, quickly extending himself over to where you were sitting. You arranged up the last pieces of the decadent dessert on your fork.

Eddie shook his head at you as you carefully lifted the tablecloth and held out the utensil in your lap. "You're way too soft on him, you know."

"It's just a piece of cake, shush."

Venom's head moved over to you, opening his jaws and unfurling his tongue, the long appendage moving around in anticipation of the chocolatey treat. A few strings of saliva splattered onto your thigh, cold and wet against your skin. An involuntary shiver raced down your spine and your grip on the fork tensed. You weren't a stranger to Venom teasing you, he’d been involved with both you and Eddie countless times, but having him do it unexpectedly in such a risky location was new.

The alien’s tongue reached out and curled around your wrist, pulling your whole arm under the table. The utensil wobbled dangerously before the symbiote could bring it closer, smearing the cake along your thigh as he dragged it towards his split open mouth. You didn’t get a moment to process the streak of crumbs and powdered sugar now decorating your leg before Venom’s tongue released your wrist and moved to lap at the mess, the wet thickness sliding along the soft skin on your inner thigh. 

Venom blinked, cautiously smelling the air before recognizing the scent. He was smelling chocolate and you. You couldn't help your reaction, the cold spit and warm muscle in such a sensitive area left you wet and wanting more. Your thighs immediately tried to snap closed searching for friction but Venom caught you. Inky black tendrils split off from his form, gripping at your knees and prying them apart, giving him full access to you underneath the table. Your scent was overwhelming him and the alien desperately needed more. You shakily brought your hand back to the tabletop and clumsily dropped the fork on your plate, deeply distracted by the alien moving between your legs. Eddie looked at you curiously, you were flushed and biting down on your bottom lip to stop from making too much noise.

Vee? What’s going on?

Venom slid his impossibly long, wet tongue along your clothed cunt, soaking through the rest of the lacy fabric that you hadn’t already drenched.

DELICIOUS.

Eddie watched from across the table as your eyes widened and your mouth dropped open with a gasp. Eddie frowned, suspicious of the alien and somewhat worried about you.

What are you doing?

WE ARE SAYING THANK YOU.

Venom ran his tongue along your center again, dipping beneath the seam of your panties and finally tasting you. The symbiote was sending flashes of how you looked, felt and smelled straight into Eddie's mind. The dirty little secrets of how well you were responding to his teasing, how wet you already were, just for them. Venom thought you tasted even better than the cake and Eddie certainly wasn’t going to disagree.

As the images and sensations flooded Eddie's mind, his eyes darkened with lust and his cock twitched to life trapped in his jeans. He muttered something about public decent and how that’s not exactly behaving but fine.

Be quiet but don’t stop.

WE WILL NEVER STOP.

A tendril slithered up your thigh and along the edge of your panties, slipping underneath and pulling them to the side. 

As quietly as possible, Venom licked at your fully exposed pussy, the tip of his tongue flicking hard against your clit. Electricity shot through you at the contact, You brought your napkin up to your lips to try and stifle the moans continuously threatening to escape you as Venom did it again and again, knowing just how to bring you right to the edge.

Eddie couldn’t take his eyes off you, his pupils were blown out with desire and his cock aching in his denims as Venom relayed every bit of your pleasure and taste to him. The symbiote was also sending him absolutely filthy suggestions of what they could both do to you back at home when Venom could come out to play properly. Visions of you spread out underneath them, hearing all those sounds you needed to supress right now, the two of them making you fall apart over and over. Eddie was nearly delirious from the onslaught of Venom's ideas. Your hands fisted into the table cloth and your eyes fluttered shut as Venom’s tongue slipped in and out of your soaking pussy, impossibly long and thick, dragging along your slick walls.

"Hey, hey." Eddie gently chided you from across the table. "Look at me." He reached out and grabbed your hand, rubbing soothing circles with his thumb against your palm.

You forced your eyes open to meet Eddie's gaze. The intensity on his face caught you off guard. He looked downright ravenous; like he wanted to devour you whole the same way Venom was trying to.

“You can take it, can’t you? Be good for us.”

A whine built in the back of your throat, both of your boys were clearly on board with this. The pair were getting off on teasing and torturing you in public, Venom treating you like his very own dessert. You could take it, you would be a good girl for them. Eddie asked so nicely, how could you disappoint him?

Eddie watched with rapt attention as you let Venom wreck you in public. None of the other tables would know anything out of the ordinary was happening but Eddie knew. He knew how hard you were trying to keep quiet as you were about to cum, how a mix of your juices and Venom’s saliva was dripping onto the chair underneath you as your thighs shook around Venom’s head. Vee finally pushed you over the edge, your pussy clamping down and convulsing around the alien’s soaked tongue  Eddie saw you sink your teeth into your bottom lip as your eyes rolled back in your head and you came completely undone on Venom’s face, flooding the symbiote with your sweet flavour.

The alien appendages slowly withdrew from you as Venom slithered away and retracted back into Eddie, satisfied with himself for the moment. You felt Eddie squeeze your hand and ground you, helping you float back down to earth. When you opened your eyes, you caught Eddie staring at you with obvious lust and a hint of pride in his gaze.

“Such a good girl, you did great baby.”

You smiled lazily at him, still a little wobbly from the sensory overload but filled with warmth at the praise, These two would be the death of you one day, but you knew you’d enjoy every second of it. You were still trying to catch your breath and recover from the intense orgasm when the server approached the table again.

"How was the cake? Anything else I can get you?"

"Everything was great, we just need the cheque please." Eddie grinned at you, a predatory gleam in his eye. 

"We should get going, there’s something we need to take care of at home.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

A/N: Well that was a fun one! I really hope you enjoyed it, please leave a comment, reblog or like <3

#eddie brock #venom #eddie brock x reader #eddie brock x you #venom x reader #venom x you #eddie brock x venom x you #eddie brock x venom x reader #eddie brock fanfic #eddie brock smut #venom fanfic #venom smut #kinktober 2023

[maiko-san]

Catnap + Dogday x Reader (Part 6)

<<< Part 5

Relationship : Fluff

Warning : ⚠️ Mention of blood, mild amnesia ⚠️

Recap : After inhaling the red smoke, you find yourself awake in Catnap's hidden room. For some reason, you don't remember what happened before you got here....

Yet again, you wake up from your slumber. You let out a groan and massage your temple.

Your head is throbbing and your whole body aches for no reason. Probably you slept on the wrong side of the bed— wait.

This is Catnap's room.

You're laying on his large cat bed and you begin to question yourself...

Why are you here?

You remember being in the infirmary after you exhausted yourself with work. But something doesn't feel right and you swore something happened after.

You try to remember what had happened but nothing came up, everything is a blur.

It made you feel frustrated.

A sharp pain in your head makes you jolt as you hisses in pain. You decide to ease yourself from thinking too much.

"Catnap?" you called out for the feline mascot.

Silence.

Where did the cat go?

You look around the room and notice a tray with medicines on them with a few bottles of water.

You pick up the pills and it was the prescription given by the doctor for your headaches.

You didn't think twice and took the pill so it will make your headaches go away.

After that you lay back down on the soft bed, you can return to your office after your headaches goes away.

As much as you want to walk back to your office, you don't want to stumble around like a drunk idiot and hurt yourself.

You close your eyes and rest....

Purr...purr...purr...

You hear soft purring in your ears, you slowly open your eyes and purple fur fills your vision.

You knew who it was and it is Catnap.

Hugging you close to his body with one arm over you as he purrs softly in his sleep. His body is curled around you in a protective manner.

You unconsciously bring your hand up and rub the feline's head, causing his purring to become louder.

"Star..."

Catnap's eyes open as he stares down at you, he shifts a bit to give you some space.

"How....are you...feeling?"

"I feel a little bit better...hmm...I remember being in the infirmary, did you bring me here Catnap?"

"Yes...I brought you here.... the infirmary bed is...bad...and not good for sleeping"

You hum at his response as you continue to pet him, Catnap closes his eyes and accepts the affection he's receiving from you.

You smile at the sight of the purring cat, you quite enjoy petting him and the other SC. They were made to comfort children in the orphanage after all.

You lift yourself off the bed and stretch yourself, "Well, I guess it's time for me to go back to my office!" this caused Catnap to snap out from his purring state.

"You can't!"

This causes you to flinch slightly at his sudden change of tone, "Why?" you questioned the cat.

Catnap froze, why didn't he think this through? He doesn't want you to go back to your office and see the massacre.

Also, the risk of losing you to the other toys is high.

"Everything.... already closed down"

Catnap said. It's entirely true that it's already past closing time. The playcare and the cable car usually shut down after 9:00 p.m. The only people who have access to everything are the night guards.

"What?! It's already past 9:00 p.m.?!"

You were shocked. You've slept that long? Catnap nods as you rub your forehead, guess you have to sleep in for the night huh.

You pucker up your lips before your stomach lets out a loud growl indicating your hunger.

Catnap's ears perk up at the sound as you smile sheepishly, "I haven't eaten since afternoon...I do remember leaving my lunch on my table" you hummed.

"I'll go get it!"

Catnap said as he stands up on all fours. Before you could question him, Catnap jumps up to the hole above leaving you inside the room.

"Huh?! Catnap, wait! Take me with you!"

You called out for him but to no avail. You let out a sigh as you stare up at the entrance on the ceiling. This room is easy to get in but hard to get out.

You have no choice but to wait for Catnap to come back.

You wait...

and...wait...

waiting....

What's taking Catnap so long?

You wish there's a clock in here and you don't have a watch to tell you the time. You assume he was gone for 15 minutes now.

Then, you hear something and it comes from the hole.

"Catnap?"

Something large drops down onto the cat bed, causing you to flinch. It was a blue box with a star on it. It has a crank on its side too. Is it...a music box?

For some reason, you feel the sense of deja vu.

You stare at it for a while, narrowing your eyes at the box.

You just couldn't keep your eyes away from it, if you do something bad would happen.

You and this mysterious box are engaged in a staring competition.

A few minutes pass and nothing happens but that uneasy feeling hasn't left your guts.

Then, the box begins to wind up and plays the well known 'Pop's goes the weasel'

'Get. the. f*ck. outta. there!'

As soon you take a step back, the lid pops and comes out from it, was a monster with razor sharp teeth and claws covered in fresh blood.

By the blessing from the god, you somehow slip and avoid getting eaten by the red headed monster.

"Sh*t!"

That's the only thing you could cry out as you quickly get to your feet and run.

But...where?!

The box monster springs itself towards you like a charging bull, you scream out in fear as you yet again dodge it but it manages to scratch your leg.

You fall on to the ground as you watch your leg bleed, the box monster stalks towards you with hungry eyes.

Your body begin to shakes in fear.

There's no way you can survive this, there is no escape!

As the monster lunges at you, you feel something sharp hooking itself on the back of your shirt and drags you high up.

The box monster was surprised as you are, it let out a frustrated roar as you feel yourself being dragged away by a strange force.

A/n : I know it's a short chapter but I want to leave a cliffhanger.

Also, the Reader had mild amnesia but having it doesn't mean that she forgot her entire identity!

It is only the memories of the previous event were wiped out and she only forgot the event of her being kidnapped and the hour of joy.

But she does remember being in the infirmary, resting.

#poppy playtime #poppy playtime x reader #poppy playtime dogday #poppy playtime catnap #poppy playtime boxy boo #smiling critters catnap #smiling critter dogday #dogday x reader #catnap x reader

[cas-per-420]

Neuvillette as your sugar daddy

small lil things about neuvillette being your sugar daddy :)

(includes: sex, smut, fluff, mentions of menstruation, mentions of being gagged, bondage, overstimulation, and orgasm denial, sugar daddy and sugar baby dynamic, neuvilette being sweet and a caring sugar daddy and Fem reader)

Neuvillette x Fem!Reader

NSFW and FLUFF below the cut

You didn't know what you were getting yourself into but it's not like you could complain, especially when your sugar daddy loves to spoil you so much. he does do it with an equal price, after all it isn't free. As long as he gets to rut his fat cock into your soaked pussy, he'll give you everything you desire; clothes, new pretty lingerie (that ends up on the floor whenever you try it on with him in the room), designer bags, shoes and much more.

neuvillette is a very busy man but whenever you swing by his home or work he's always got time for his sweet sugar baby, whether it's just talking to him or bending you over the nearest counter and fucking you senseless. 

You sometimes get ashamed of the age gap between you but your sugar daddy is always there to tell you that it doesn't matter, as long as it's consensual it's okay. After talking to you about your worries he'll bring you a cup of tea and some cake to relax you, making sure you're okay because your feelings matter to him so much.

sometimes when he's in a work related meeting his phone will start to go off, the sound he chose signalled that it was you who was messaging him. when he opened the message he saw a picture attached to a text saying something about trying on a new set, he then looked at the picture which was you in a royal blue thong and bra with your legs spread wide and a vibrator shoved deep inside your cunt. he quickly stood up to go to the bathroom and rubbed one out but you knew that you would definitely not be walking for the next day.

you knew better than to be a brat but you loved the punishments it came with, and he does too. you'd be overestimated or denied of an orgasm, you'd be spanked, tied up and even gagged but if it does get too much and you end up using the safe word, he'd be quick to hold you close and apologise over and over again being the big softie he is. You know he'd never hurt you or do anything to make you upset so it's extremely rare to have an argument or for him to make you upset, and if he does you should expect a large bouquet of roses and tons of chocolates at your doorstep.

if its your time of the month do expect him to go full on mama Bird on you. he'd be making sure your taking pain killers if your cramps are bad, making sure your heating pad/hot water bottle is warm, and making sure you eat three meals a day. he does understand when you yell at him for no apparent reason then start to cry, he'd be there to comfort you in every moment, wanting to make you as comfortable as possible and taking your mind off of the cramps and blood. Just because he's your sugar daddy doesn't mean he's not capable of caring and loving for you.

~fin~

( I hope you liked it, ik it's a bit messy, but who cares)

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #neuvillette #neuvillette smut #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette x reader smut #smut #neuvilette x reader #neuvilette fluff #fluff

[andvys]

Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter one ⭐︎ Waiting Room

Warnings: slight angst, mentions of death and injuries, mention of physical assault (physical fight), head injuries, mention of bruises and scars, mention of Eddie's almost death. pining. allusions to unrequited love. enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort. lots and lots of tension. slow burn. also, instead of writing summaries, I will name each chapter after a song that fits the vibe of each chapter. Also, mentioning this again, her nickname has nothing to do with her hair color.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Word count: 6.9k

Author's note: @hellfire--cult you know I will mention you in every chapter, so don't even try to fight me. Thanks for coming up with all these ideas with me mwah! — This is only the beginning, guys. This story will progress into something much more intense after chapter four or five, I can’t wait to share this one with you and get into the good and spicy stuff hehe!

Read the prologue first!

series masterlist ⭐︎ next chapter

♡

Your body was aching and everything inside of you was screaming at you to not open your eyes just yet, you felt as though you were being dragged out of it. All your limbs were hurting, your skin aching, your head was pounding. You could not begin to describe the pain even if you tried, it was unlike anything you had felt before. Your memory was lost, at least that’s what it felt like for the first few seconds. 

Then they started coming back slowly. 

From the gate in the water, to Steve being pulled under.

From the bats trying to bite chunks of his skin to you doing everything in your power to save him. 

From the creepy old Creel house, to Max offering herself as the bait. 

As pictures of her flashed in your mind, you suddenly started to register the smell – the disinfectant, the disgusting smell of hospital. You heard the beeping of the machines next to you, and you felt the wires attached to your body. 

You tried to press your lips together, though tears burned in your eyes when the crack in your lip stung. 

You moved your hand as you slowly opened your eyes to bright lights shining into the room you were in. You squinted them, trying to adjust to the light and the vision in front of you, it took you a moment, everything was still so blurry. 

From the corner of your eye, you could see a mop of dark curls. You slowly moved your head to the left side, restraining a groan when you felt a flash of pain in your head. You blinked a few times, taking in the sight of a bruised and battered Eddie, who was looking down at his rings, twisting and playing with them nervously. 

“Eddie?” You said and only then you felt how dry your throat had felt, how raspy your voice had sounded and how much it was aching. 

You did not notice the movement on your right side.

He straightened up as he lifted his head so suddenly, eyes wide as he looked into yours. Relief flashed his face and a smile appeared on his lips.

“Oh thank god.. Hi sweetheart.. slept well?” 

You stared at him for a good long minute, trying to figure out what had happened to him. By the developing scars on his face and the white bandage around his neck, you had an idea of what had gotten to him. 

Was he on the brink of death just like you had been? 

By the look in his eyes, you could tell that he was. 

“Huh… I’m not dead?” 

He shook his head, eyes filled with relief, “gladly no.”

You rolled your eyes at his words, “well, shucks,” you sighed, like you didn’t fight for your life back at the Creel house. 

Eddie sighed but chuckled, understanding your dark humor better than anyone else – despite only knowing you for a few days. 

A cough finally fell from your lips when you tried to sit up, though losing the strength to, you fell back again.

Eddie instantly reached for the water bottle on the table next to you, pouring some into the plastic cup before he carefully placed it into your hand, trying not to touch the bruises on your knuckles. 

You thanked him with a small smile before you lifted the cup to your lips with shaky hands. 

“Careful,” Eddie whispered as he watched you.

You nodded and closed your eyes as you took a sip of the water, welcoming the feeling of the coldness in your dry throat, you took a few sips before you handed him back the cup. 

“How long was I out?”

The sigh from your right side startled you a little, with furrowed brows, you turned to look only to be caught off guard. 

Steve Harrington.

With his arms crossed, he stood by the window, staring at you with an unreadable look on his face. He took you in, eyes glaring at the wounds on your skin. 

“You had to have surgery. There–... There was a deep concussion in your head and a vessel popped. If they didn’t do it quickly you..” He could not bring himself to finish that sentence, he clenched his jaw and looked down at his hands. 

Your heart fluttered at the sight of him. 

Even in this current state, you could not help but smirk cheekily, though it dropped the moment it appeared when you suddenly could feel all the bruises on your face. Your eyes watered and a wince fell from your lips. 

Steve lifted his head at the sound. 

And Eddie straightened up. 

“Don’t move your face too much, sweets.. It’s…” He stopped as he felt anger and sadness hit him all at once. 

He did not want to tell you how bad it really was – how your skin was bruised, how puffy your eyes were. 

You closed your eyes again and laid your head back. 

“Ah, he got me good, didn’t he?” 

Steve swallowed harshly. 

He pushed away the pain from seeing you like this and cleared his throat. He licked his lips and leaned closer. 

“Yeah, but you got him better.” 

You frowned at his words, not quite understanding. 

Eddie glared at him, not knowing how you would take the news so soon. 

“Huh?”

Steve ignored the look in Eddie’s eyes, he kept his on you. 

“Jason’s dead. He fell onto broken wood… that impaled him.”

Oh. 

Flashes of the night came in a blur. 

The fight. 

His rough hands as he hit you, over and over again, as he held you down and wrapped his merciless fingers around your throat, aiming for the kill. 

You felt your heart beating a little faster at the memory, how scared you were when he pointed a gun at Lucas before you stepped in between them, knowing that he could have shot you, right then and there. How much it hurt when he sliced your cheek open with the stupid ring on his finger as he delivered the first punch, how close to death you were when he choked you. You saw the look in his eyes, the rage, as he called you a traitor for protecting ‘the killer’ of your friend. Tears of frustration and anger fell from your eyes when you almost lost the fight – Lucas’s screams as he called out to Max urged you to fight back, and you did, you used every last bit of your strength to throw him off of you and pushed him away. 

Pushed him into his death. 

You do not feel bad. – Max could have died because of him. He would have killed Lucas. He wanted to kill you. 

“Good,” you murmured as you blinked the tears away that formed in your eyes again, “he was going to kill the kids.. He had a gun.. He had a gun, Steve.”

It was almost weird to hear you call him by his name. 

He instantly rushed to your side and reached for your hand, something that neither of you would ever think back to again. 

“Yeah, and you saved them. Listen, you can’t talk much, you need to heal, Blondie.”

Right. The ache in your neck was not from the lack of water, it was from the bruises, from almost being strangled to death.

“Everything else is being taken care of,” he said as he squeezed your hand. 

You ignored the feeling in your chest and turned to look at Eddie. 

“And you?” 

“Well, you are looking at a free man! A free man that was targeted by Victor Creel himself after he got out of Pennhurst. I trespassed into his home many times and he had a vendetta against me or some shit.”

You felt relief rushing through you. 

Though, you saw the hurt behind his eyes, knowing he had to lie about seeing Creel killing Chrissy. 

He did not want to put the blame on somebody else, he knew what it had felt like to be accused of something he hadn’t done – but there was no other option, he had no choice, he wasn’t given one. People of power had told him what to do. In return, he got his name cleared and had been given a good amount of money for ‘the troubles’. Money that he could live off from for the rest of his life.

“I’m glad you’re okay, Eddie.” 

He smiled at your words, nodding. 

“What happened to you?” 

He opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by Steve. 

“He played hero when he shouldn’t have.” 

Eddie rolled his eyes at him. 

Hero. There wasn’t only one hero that night. 

Almost in panic, you straightened up. 

“Where’s Max?” 

Steve put his hand on yours again, giving it a pat as he tried to calm you down, though all he gave you was shivers running down your spine from his touch. 

“Healing. He broke one arm and one leg, but she is awake. Robin is with her, she’s been waiting for you to wake up.”

You breathed out a sigh of relief, the weight in your shoulders fell just like that. You felt like crying, but you wouldn’t do it here, in front of them. 

“And everyone else?”

You took in the sight of him, properly this time. 

There were dark circles beneath his eyes, tiredness in his face.

You didn’t know what prompted you to do this, maybe it was the high anesthetic in your system or a spur of the moment – but you lifted your hand, reached out to him to graze your fingertips against his neck, on the mark where the tail of a demobat almost strangled him. 

He did not pull away, but he stared at you with wide eyes, blushing at your action.  

“I-I’m fine.. Everyone else is too,” he said and cleared his throat. 

A scoff on your left pulled you back and you removed your hand from Steve’s neck to look over at Eddie. 

“Speak for yourself, I have like forty stitches all over my body.”

How he managed to joke about that while he was still in so much pain? You did not know. But then again, you were just the same. 

He spared you the details when he began to talk about what happened in the upside down. Steve did not want to revive the story again, seemingly not handling the thought of his new friend dying so cruelly. He left and told you that he’d come back later. 

As Eddie was telling you about the swarm of bats, you felt the pain in your chest, just like when you had found out about Chrissy, just like when you had found out about him. 

Eddie was a new addition to your life, you two are barely even friends, though you do not know how you would handle the news of him not making it. 

“I’m happy you’re here.”

Eddie’s eyes softened, though a smirk tugged at his lips. 

“Going soft on me now, sweets?” He chuckled, surprised to hear such words from you. “Or are you still on drugs? Where’s the little ol’ meanie, I kinda liked her.” 

A pained chuckle fell from your lips. 

“She’ll be back in no time, don’t you worry.”

Your laughter died down when you thought of the way he looked at you. 

Judging by all the pain you were still feeling, you knew that you looked awful. 

“How bad do I look? Be honest, please.”

Eddie shook his head with a pained look on his face. He looked down for a moment. His eyes flashed with anger and sadness. 

“Bad, sweetheart. When we found out that Jason did this to you.. We wanted to revive him only to kill him again,” he said angrily. “Steve wanted to rip his corpse apart, that’s what Robin told me.”

For a moment, you felt cheerful and your eyes had softened. 

For a moment you had thought that he cared. 

But Eddie quickly pulled you back into reality after shattering that illusion. 

“He saw what he did to Lucas, it’s not as bad as you but.. fuck. He was going to kill Max too.”

Steve was angry at Jason because of the teens, not because of what he did to you, never because of you. He wouldn’t have cared if you bleed out on the ground in the Creel house. He wouldn’t have cared if you died. 

You focused on Eddie, on the anger in his features – it made your eyes soften, knowing that you found another friend, one that you should probably protect from the curse that you are. 

“Shouldn’t you be resting?”

“I can walk now..”

You frown, tilting your head at him before you look down at yourself. 

“How long have I been out?” You asked when you realized that Steve had never answered your question. 

“You’ve been out for a whole week, sweetheart.”

Your eyes widened, you dug your hands into the mattress and pushed yourself up. 

“Whoa, whoa!” Eddie raised his hands as he tried to stop you from sitting up. 

“W-What, oh my god, my sister must be worried!” 

He put his hand on your arm, gently – you had noticed it before, how careful he had been to touch you, like he was afraid of hurting you, like you were something fragile. 

“Yeah, about that–” He never got to finish his sentence as the door burst open and your sister stormed inside the room. 

Your eyes widened at the sight of her, not because you were surprised or confused to see her here, but because it’s been two months since you had last seen her. Besides the concerned look on her face, she was glowing – maybe it was the pregnancy or maybe it was just the fact that she has been much happier since leaving Hawkins behind. 

“Hi hi, honey! Are you okay?” 

That day she had the same concern in her voice as she does now while she talks your ear off about how important it is to go to all your checkups at the Hospital. She is calling every day, just to remind you – and to check on you. 

You are fine. Just fine. 

You survived an attack, you survived surgery, you survived. You made a good recovery and you are getting better each day. Besides, Eddie and Max are on your back about the check-ups just as much, you have no choice but to go to them. 

You’re holding the telephone between your ear and your shoulder as you finish touching up your make up, applying some gloss to your lips before you pick up the brush one more time and carefully go through your hair, trying not to hurt yourself, your head starts hurting at every slightest touch and it’s beginning to frustrate you. 

“I’m telling you, this baby is going to be a little runner.” 

“Is she still kicking?” 

Your sister huffs before she laughs, “she is kicking all the time, sis.”

You smile as you take the telephone and walk towards your window, leaning against the wall as you wait for the Impala to pull up in your driveway. 

“I can’t wait to meet her. I never held a baby before.”

“Well, you’re about to – give it a few more weeks and you’ll turn into an auntie in no time.”

“I am already an auntie,” you chuckle. “How could you forget little Luna? She was your first child.” 

You remember how devastated you were when she took the black cat with her as she moved out of your parents house and left the town, for good. You begged her to leave the cat with you, put on your best puppy face but she wouldn’t have it, it was her cat, after all. 

“Right, sorry sorry.” She laughs. 

You hear rustling in the back and a moment later, a loud crunch sounds through the phone. You don’t have to ask to know what she’s eating. Chips. She is always eating salted chips, now even more so than before. 

“What are you doing today?” She asks with a mouthful. 

Looking down at your outfit, you place your palm on your new denim shorts before you slide your fingers into the pocket. 

“I’m going to a barbecue in a few,” you say. “Max basically forced me to come.”

“Wait, you’re not driving yourself, are you?”

You roll your eyes, shaking your head as a huff falls from your lips. 

You’re not allowed to drive, not yet. Your vision gets blurry sometimes, and you get light headed very easily. Your doctor said that it would pass, but it’s been two weeks since you had been released from the hospital and it hasn’t passed yet. 

Jason truly did a number on you. 

“No, don’t worry. My friends would kill me if I even tried–”

“Don’t say that word,” she cuts you off with a stern voice. “But I agree with them.”

You snort. 

“Anyways, Eddie is picking me up.”

Silence follows for a good thirty seconds before she continues eating her chips. You can practically hear her thoughts, you already know what she’s about to say next. 

“Eddie. He was the cute one with the long hair, right?” She asks, innocently. “The one who brought you chocolate and magazines?” 

Rolling your eyes at her teasing voice, you push yourself away from the wall when you see the black Impala pulling up to your house. 

“Don’t even,” you sigh, scrunching up your face in annoyance. 

She has been waiting, waiting for years for you to finally have a crush on someone, to fall in love, go on dates and get a boyfriend. 

Though, unlike her, you weren’t exactly popular – maybe it was your own fault, but that’s beside the point. Your sister loved having crushes and going on dates. She loved falling in love. 

You? Not so much. 

Love has only brought you pain. 

And you never cared much for dating – not even for fun. You don’t mind being on your own, loving someone from afar and in secret, for probably the rest of your life. 

“What’s wrong with him? Isn’t he super sweet?” She asks. “He brought you chocolate, sat by your side and you seem to like him–”

“Yeah, as a friend.” 

“Oh,” she sighs, humming. “Yeah, you never liked the nice guys, did you?” 

She got you there. Well, kind of. He is nice. He is nice to everyone, but to you. 

“What about the other guy then? What was his name again… Steve?” 

Just the mention of his name has shivers running down your spine, your heart fluttering and your skin crawling in tingles. 

You feel your cheeks glowing but you roll your eyes at the stupid giddiness that you feel, everytime you think of him.

“Mhmm, Steve.” 

“Huh.” You could practically hear the smirk in her voice. “What about him?”

If she only knew. 

Eddie honks the car horn, giving you the perfect excuse to hang up the phone. You walk back to your dresser, putting the phone down. 

“Anyways, I love you, sis. But a very hungry Eddie is waiting for me in the driveway.”

You know that he is hungry, he is always hungry, always eating away all the snacks and stealing leftover fries from everyone’s plates, no matter how much he had eaten already.

“Have fun with uh Steve! Love you, mwah, bye!”

You roll your eyes once again as you hang up the phone. 

Steve and Fun in one sentence just doesn’t sound right. That guy would rather stay miserable for the rest of his life than even try to have fun with you. 

He can’t stand you. 

And well, you can’t stand him either. – At least, that’s what you keep telling yourself, all while knowing that it’s very much a lie, but how else would you stay sane?

You quickly make your way down the stairs, reaching for your keys and your sunglasses on the way out. You skip down the porch steps. You tap the hood of his car before you get into the passenger seat. 

Eddie is already grinning at you, waving his fingers at you. 

“Hey sexy.” 

His brows shoot up and a smirk tugs at his lips. He playfully eyes you up and down. 

You close the door and sit back, greeting him with a mocking smirk. 

“Hello to you too, sweets,” he says in a low and deep voice – one that almost has you laughing. 

“Oh, I wasn’t greeting you,” you say, nonchalantly. “I was talking to Arwen,” you gesture to his beloved, new car, that he of course named after a Lord of the rings character. 

“But, hi Eddie.”

A loud laugh leaves his lips, his brown eyes twinkle with amusement. He grabs the gearstick, shaking his head at you. 

“You ready for some heavy metal heaven?” 

You put on your sunglasses and fasten the seatbelt after he points at you with a stern look on his face. 

“Sure,” you snort, knowing that the drive to the Sinclair house will be anything but uneventful. When Eddie isn’t singing and bobbing his head to the music, he’s shouting over it, telling you a story that he can’t wait to get off his chest. 

Your friendship with him is something you didn’t see coming. You tried to push him away, knowing how your friendships with people you care about usually end, but he wouldn’t have it. He kept coming back, just like Robin, just like the teens. 

You don’t understand why. 

What’s there about you that they want you around so bad? 

You’re never in a happy mood, you’re never entertaining, you don’t bring anything into the friend group. You don’t get along with most people – by most people you only mean Steve Harrington. 

You wonder if it’s because you almost died and they’d feel guilty to exclude you after helping them or if Max forces them to accept you into a friend group you never even wanted to be part of. 

“How’s your head doing?” Eddie asks as he drives on Maple Street. 

“Good, s’not hurting anymore.” You lie. 

He knows. 

Eddie sees the way you react to bright lights, the way you scrunch up your nose a little whenever the sun shines into your eyes or the way you rest your hand against the nearest wall when you seem to get dizzy. 

“When’s your next check-up?” 

He sounds just as concerned as your sister does, it makes you laugh a little. 

Who would have thought that Eddie could be so caring? 

“Tomorrow, 3pm.”

“Want me to drive you?”

You shake your head, “no, it’s fine. I’ll take the bus.”

He scoffs, shooting you a glare as he pulls up into the driveway, parking his car behind the burgundy BMW. 

“You think I’ll let you take the bus? I’ll drive you and then we’ll get burgers.” 

You unbuckle your seatbelt, chuckling as you turn to him, “okay, dad.” 

“Shut up,” he grumbles at you with a glare. 

Laughing at the look on his face, you get out of the car and make your way over to the house. Eddie bumps his shoulder into yours, tilting his head down, he looks at your heart shaped sunglasses. 

“Where’d you get these?” He asks, pointing at them. 

“Macy’s, why? You want some too?” 

“What if I do?” He asks, ringing the doorbell. 

“Then we’ll get you some pink ones.” 

A smirk tugs at his lips, “hell yeah.” 

Robin opens the door with an excited smile on her face, grinning when she sees you. 

“Hi!” She beams at you. “Come on in.” She steps aside, lifting her arm as she waits for you both to step inside. 

You walk in first, and as you do, Robin pulls you into a hug, greeting you once more. 

“Hey,” you mumble as you slowly lift your arms to hug her back. 

Eddie chuckles at the confused frown on your face, he follows inside and closes the door. 

“C’mon, Steve is already bitching about you two being late.” 

And just like that, your heart jumps a little. You hate yourself a little in these moments. 

Pushing your sunglasses up on your head, you and Eddie follow her out into the garden. 

You can hear the music outside, laughter and Steve’s stern voice as he scolds Dustin, as always. The smell of smoke lingers in the air and as you step outside, you catch sight of Steve, standing behind the grill, with one hand on his hip and the other pointing at Dustin with the grill tong. 

His hair is messy, a spit curl falling before his eyes. He is wearing his black sunglasses, green khaki pants, a gray tank top,– oh god. This is going to be a long day. 

You swallow as you tear your eyes away from him, looking around with squinted eyes, the sun is harsh and you instantly put your sunglasses back on.

“Are the Sinclair’s around?” You ask, meaning Lucas’s and Erica’s parents. 

Robin shakes her head, “no, they’re out in Indianapolis until tomorrow, Steve is probably gonna stay the night.”

You nod. 

You hear your name being called and you turn to your right to see Lucas waving at you with a smile on his face. He is sitting on the lounger Max is laying on, still with casts on her leg and her arm. She pushes herself up on her elbows, looking in your direction, a smile appears on her face and she greets you just as kindly as her boyfriend did. 

Robin leaves your side, walking towards Dustin who plays with his new, portable Stereo. 

As you pass by Steve, he turns around to greet Eddie with a smile and you with nothing more than a nod and low grumble, “Blondie.” 

Whenever he seems moody or pissed off, you feel the urge to make it even worse. And you do, every single time. 

You walk around him and look at the meat on the grill, whining.

“I don’t eat meat.”

He turns to you, eyes growing wide at your words. He didn’t know. And he already feels guilty for not asking you first. He pushes his sunglasses up into his hair as an apologetic look crosses his face. 

“Fuck… I-I didn’t know–” he stops when he notices the smug look on your face and hears Eddie chuckle over his shoulder. 

He should’ve known. 

With a groan, he rolls his eyes and pushes his sunglasses back down as he turns back to the grill. 

“Hey Eddie!” Dustin calls out to him, already grinning at Steve. “Check this out!” 

“Don’t you dare, Dustin–” Robin gets cut off by a scream as it blasts from the stereo. She smacks him lightly on his head, yelling at him to turn it off. 

Eddie laughs loudly, leaving yours and Steve’s side. 

“Jesus christ,” Steve mumbles, scrunching his face up at the music. “That shrimp has been doing that all day. Eddie really is a bad influence.” 

“Aw, poor Steve,” you pout at him, “are you mad that you can’t listen to Madonna?” 

He scoffs at you, though he doesn’t say anything and focuses on the sizzling burgers as he turns them over. 

You press your lips together, ignoring the tugging in your chest or the feeling in your stomach as you use his distraction to look at him. 

It’s only nearing the end of April, but it already feels like the beginning of summer. Steve’s skin is already sun kissed. You hide your eyes behind your sunglasses as you ogle him. Taking in the sight of his veiny hands, his arms that have just the perfect amount of muscle, his chest hair that you always tease him for, the silver chain around his neck. 

You swallow. 

Cursing inwardly when you feel your stomach fluttering. 

He turns to face you again, totally catching you and your staring. 

Fuck. 

“Like what you see?” He smirks down at you. 

You bite the inside of your cheeks, trying not to blush under his gaze. 

He is feeling smug. Not because he likes you staring at him, but because he’s been waiting for a moment to embarrass you with something. 

He expects you to stutter, to step back and answer his question with a shaky and squeaky voice, because that is what he must be used to, but you wouldn’t give him that satisfaction. You take a step closer to him, biting your lip as you eye him up and down. 

You can tell that it catches him off guard a little, but unlike you, he isn’t blushing. 

“Yeah, actually,” you whisper and put your hand on his shoulder as you lean closer to the small table where he left his coke. You wrap your hand around the can, it’s cold against your palm and you hum in satisfaction as you raise it up to your lips, taking a sip of his drink. “Mmmh, perfect.” 

You turn around, and walk away without another word, leaving him huffing and glaring at you. 

You fail to notice or feel his eyes on you, the way they rake down your body, the way he licks his lips before he forces his eyes away from you. 

You greet Lucas and Max properly, hugging the latter before you take a seat on the lounger next to her, choosing the one that is half in the shadow, so you can hide your face from the sun. 

You easily fall into a conversation with the teens. You had always been close with Max, even before you were dragged into all of this. 

Being friends with her, also brought Lucas into your life. Unlike Dustin, who is always somehow trying to get on your nerves by teasing you with crushes that don’t exist or annoying you like a younger brother would do, Lucas is always very kind. 

“I can’t wait for you to get your car back.” 

Chuckling at Lucas’s words, you take off your sunglasses and put them down beside you. 

“Why’s that?” 

“So you can drive us around again,” he shrugs as he flashes you a smile. 

“Are Steve and Eddie not good enough for you?” You snort. 

Max scoffs loudly, rolling her eyes as she turns to you. 

“Steve is always whining about something!” 

“Yeah, and Eddie drives like a maniac,” Lucas groans, throwing his hands up. 

Max purses her lips, looking down at her cast. 

“Yeah, like your girlfriend,” you laugh, glancing at Lucas. “I wonder who will teach her how to drive properly.” 

“First of all, I don’t drive like a maniac,” says Max. “Second, why don’t you teach me how to drive?” 

You raise your brows at her, shaking your head, “sorry girl, but I am not a good teacher.” 

“But you’re like a big sister to me, you’re supposed to teach me,” she teases, though she looks at you with her best puppy eyes. “Besides, we can take Billy’s car.”

Shaking your head at her, you lay your head back and close your eyes, “don’t even try, Max. We’ll both end up in a ditch, we barely made it out last time.” 

She snorts at your words while Lucas looks between the two of you with disapproval on his face. 

“I’m starting to think that neither of you should ever drive again.” 

“I actually agree with you,” Robin chimes in as she joins the three of you. “I’ve heard of Max’s driving skills and uh… you lady,” she points at you, moving your legs to the side as she takes a seat on your lounder, “are danger in person.” 

“Me?” You gasp, putting your hand on your chest. 

“Yeah, you!” 

Steve watches you from afar, ignoring the heavy metal music and the curly heads behind him, who are going crazy over a song he just can’t find a liking to. 

He watches you – the way you crack a smile and shake your head with an amused look on your face. 

He watches you talk to the teens and to his best friend, easily falling into conversations. He rarely sees you like this – smiling and carefree. You’re usually always tense, annoyed and wearing a permanent frown on your face. Mostly around him. 

Steve will never know what it’s like to have a normal conversation with you, to see you smiling at him, not in a teasing way, in a real way. He is not sure if he ever even saw a real smile on your face – not even the one you are wearing now is real. 

But, why does he even care? You two have never gotten along, you hated each other, at first glance. 

With a sigh, he turns off the grill. He carries the tray filled with food over to where everyone is sitting, motioning for Eddie and Dustin to follow. 

Steve walks past you, not paying attention to how close he is to you, he accidentally bumps you in the head with the corner of the tray. He doesn’t even notice that he did – not until, you duck your head down and raise your hand to touch the side of your head. 

Max snaps her head up at him with a glare on her face. Lucas freezes when he sees how angry she is. 

He looks down at you, to see you looking up at him already. 

“I’m sorry..” He murmurs. 

You don’t speak, instead you look up at him with big eyes and a pained look on your face. 

“Oh come on, I barely even touched you,” he says, nervously. 

Eddie and Robin glance at each other, confused and worried. 

He rolls his eyes at you, knowing that this is another one of your little games that you always play, whenever you get bored. 

“Are you fucking with me again?”

Max shoots out of her seat, almost falling over due to the cast on her leg, her cheeks grow red in anger as her eyes burn into Steve. 

“Her head! You hit her head, you stupid idiot!” She points at him with rage in her voice. 

Steve’s eyes widen as deep guilt rushes through him, he instantly drops the tray on the table before he crouches down in front of you, shakily laying his palm on your shoulder as Max continues to curse at him. 

He wasn’t thinking. He didn’t think of that. 

“S-Shit,” he mumbles, looking at you apologetically. 

How could he forget? The doctor told you how sensitive you would be at every slightest touch to your head, how every slightest bump could cause nausea, dizziness or even a migraine. He was there, he heard him say it loud and clearly, yet he forgot.

Only now does he notice the hurt in your eyes as you place your palm over your ear – your ear that is ringing, for a moment it feels as though you’ve been pulled under water, and still you hear Max yelling at Steve. 

It’s not his fault, it was an accident. 

“Max! It wasn’t his fault, he didn’t do it on purpose! J-Just fuck…” You curse at the pain, not even recognizing your own voice for a moment. Who would’ve thought that you would be this sensitive? You feel his hand on your shoulder, maybe it eases the pain a little, or maybe it’s just the comfort that you feel from only his touch. 

“I-I’m gonna get you some ice,” Steve mumbles and rushes into the house, with Eddie following close behind. 

He throws his sunglasses on the counter and huffs in frustration as he tugs at his hair. He opens the freezer and gets an ice pack out. 

“Steve–”

“Fuck, Eddie. I didn’t know, I thought she was fucking with me again,” he stammers, wrapping the icepack into a cloth. “She always does this a-and I wasn’t thinking of the fucking injury.”

Steve is cursing at himself and at Jason who caused all of this, who did this to you. 

Eddie takes a step closer to him, placing his hand on his shoulder, trying to calm his friend down. 

“Steve,” he sighs but he won’t look at him. “You didn’t know, i-it’s just a migraine, nothing else–”

“Nothing else?” Steve scoffs, frowning at Eddie. 

How could this be nothing else? He caused you pain with the slightest touch, something that reminded you of what you had been through, only a few weeks back. And he might have just triggered even more than a migraine, he might have triggered some thoughts to come back that you tried to not think of. 

He rushes back out to you. 

When you see him, you are already reaching for the ice pack, waving your hand at him to give it to you but he pulls it back, not handing it to you. 

You huff in annoyance, looking at him in disbelief. 

Max is standing with a hand on her hip, extending her arm as well as she glares at him in annoyance. 

Lucas and Dustin glance at each other, like they are afraid to move or even say anything as they quietly eat their food. 

“Lego head, give me the ice pack–”

He startles you a little by sitting down right behind you, “where do I press?” He asks. 

You’re taken aback by his words and his action, you’re taken aback by his touch. 

“Huh?”

“Where do I press the ice pack?” He asks again, breathing down your neck. 

You glance up at Max, she raises her eyebrows at you. Normally, she is the one who helps you, sometimes it’s Eddie or Robin, but Steve? Steve never helped you. 

She eyes Steve and the look in his eyes, the guilt and the pain from hurting someone when normally, he tries to do everything in his power to protect people, even the ones that he doesn’t like. 

With a sigh, she slowly sits down. 

Despite the pain that is pulsating in your head, you feel shivers running down your spine when Steve moves your hair to the side, his fingertips grazing your skin. 

“Where?”

“I uh–... here,” you mumble, quietly as you point to the spot where it hurts the most. 

“Okay,” he whispers and scoots even closer to you, he presses the ice pack against the back of your head. 

You sigh and relax a little, closing your eyes as you welcome the coldness. 

Your heart flutters in your chest when he presses his free hand on your shoulder, touching you gently. 

“Max, you should eat something,” Robin says, trying to smile at the angry teen. 

“Yeah, you’re gonna heal faster if you eat a burger,” Eddie grins, trying to ease the tension as he hands her the plate. 

“A burger will help me heal, really?” She scrunches her face up but grabs the plate, nonetheless. 

“Yeah, actually. It’ll give you some of the strength back,” Dustin winks at her before he takes a bite of his burger. 

She snorts, shaking her head at them. 

You listen to your friends chatter as you keep your eyes closed. Tilting your head to the side, you lean back slightly, – wishing you could just lean into him. You can sense how tense he is, you are almost certain that you can hear his thoughts, how he is cursing at himself for this, for hurting someone – even if it’s just you. 

“Stop stressing about it, Harrington. It’s nothing,” you sigh, trying to ease some of his tension. 

He rolls his eyes, shaking his head, “You and Eddie, I swear if you keep saying this is nothing..” He huffs in frustration. 

Not only does he hate all of this – he also hates the feeling of your soft skin beneath his touch, the smell of your perfume, the smell of your body wash that he is close enough to smell – and fuck, does it smell good, good enough to make his stomach feel all weird again. 

You try to chuckle, though he can tell that it’s pained. 

“What, you worried about me, Lego head? Thought I didn’t affect your life at all?” You ask smugly, as though it’s a joke to you. 

Your words feel like a punch to his gut, even though he was the one who said these words to you, it hurts for some reason, because maybe, these words aren’t true in the slightest. 

You might not be someone important to him, you might not be special to him. 

Yet it doesn’t change the feeling he had felt in his gut when he found out that you were on the brink of death, that night. When he saw you in the hospital room hours after your surgery, how lost and empty he had felt when he saw the state you were in. How he sat beside you for hours before the nurses finally kicked him out and told him to go home and rest. 

He clenches his jaw.

“Yes, I’m worried,” he huffs. “So shut up because you will make it worse, Blondie.” He says with full expectation to hear some smartass comment back from you. 

But you stay quiet, fully quiet. 

You open your eyes and you look down at your hands in sadness. 

You wish he didn’t say that to you. You wish he kept the hate comments instead, that he left you with the idea of hating you completely, not showing an ounce of worry towards you. Because this is ruining you. The act of kindness is completely destroying you, and he doesn’t even know. He doesn’t feel it either. 

You really are hopeless. 

>> next chapter

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington enemies to lovers #stranger things angst

[egcdeath]

the l word

pairing: joel miller x reader

summary: the five times you realized that you loved joel, and the first time one of you says it. 

word count: 9.1k

warnings: canon divergent, no apocalypse, 5+1 fic, hurt/comfort, a certain someone gets punched, brief mention of postpartum depression & abandonment, really brief mention of physical abuse in 3, fluff, domestic fluff, angst with a happy ending, found family

author’s note: happy very early valentine’s day! this is part three of the soccer parents au, you can read spectator sport (p1) and clean sheet (p2) here!

this fic would not be possible if it were not for the help of @freakinfairykind, who sent me the idea for scene 3 and listened to my thought vomit whenever i hit a roadblock! you can thank them for the brilliance that is what occurs in that scene :)! enjoy!

part four / series masterlist

Zero

After Nathan, you were sure that you would never fall in love again. Love was supposed to be beautiful and soft—a random bouquet of flowers, having a whole conversation with just your eyes, sweet messages sent to you when you expected it least and needed it most, and foot massages after a long day. For you, love had been nothing of the sort—settling for mediocrity, spitting out venomous words during arguments, and biting back tears on forgotten anniversaries. 

Love wasn’t kind or patient, or rainbows and flowers. Love was a storm cloud that followed you around when you were around him, pouring sadness and anger on you and striking you with lightning bolts of resentment. 

Maybe some people just simply weren’t meant for love. Maybe you were one of them.

One

After years of trying to hold together a failing marriage and hide the myriad of painful feelings you were going through for the sake of your daughter, bottling up your feelings had become your preferred coping mechanism to everyday stressors. 

For the most part, it worked for you. Sure, some days were harder than others, and the smallest confrontation or blip in the day would send you spiraling; but more often than not, you were able to compartmentalize whatever was bothering you and save it for a rainy day.

That was part of what worked so well about the relationship you had with Joel during the soccer season—you had the opportunity to unscrew the lid of the shaken bottle of your feelings just a little bit, taking some of the edge off by yelling about completely inconsequential things. But now, you don't have that outlet. And today was one of those days that you desperately needed it. 

Nathan had come by to pick up Chloe just a bit ago, and it was very obvious that she hadn’t exactly wanted to spend her weekend with him. Some of her friends were going to the mall and having a sleepover, and because Nathan wasn’t particularly fond of their parents, he’d very openly told her no. She begged and pleaded to stay with you (mainly so she could go hang out with her friends), which of course broke your heart a little bit, but also led to a pretty dramatic outburst from your daughter to Nathan when he’d picked her up.

“You’re raising a spoiled little brat,” he hissed at you, pointing an accusatory finger once Chloe was in the car. 

“At least I’m raising her. You only show up when it’s convenient for you,” you shot back. If Nathan wanted to stoop low, you could fall to his level. “Put your finger down. She’s watching us.”

“A little argument won’t hurt her,” he scoffed. “See? You’re proving my point: you spoil her too much.”

“Because years of watching her parents bicker wasn’t traumatic enough? Get in the fucking car, Nathan.”

He huffed, looking back at the car, then over at you. “Fine. But before I go, I’d appreciate it if you stopped talking poorly about me in front of her. Clearly she’s listening to you and acting out because of it.”

“Have you considered that you’re just a shit father and maybe that’s why she doesn’t like you?” you were already making your way back inside, feeling the avalanche of emotions beginning to stir inside of you, and a little frightened of what might come out next. 

“You’re still such a bitch. Every day I praise every deity that’s out there that I left your sorry ass.”

You were viciously fighting the urge to get the last word in, knowing that whatever would come out next wouldn’t be good, and you certainly didn’t want Chloe seeing you like that. You left him with a sarcastic thumbs up, then slammed your front door, taking deep breaths to attempt to calm yourself down.

You crumbled down in front of the door, still maintaining slow and deep breaths. It was no big deal. Nathan just says stuff like that to stir the pot. You just needed to find something to take your mind off of everything. Your mind went to the scarf you’d been working on crocheting, something you could mindlessly do for a little while while you cooled off. 

The scarf was going well. You were calmly crocheting the evening away when you checked your phone to find a few apologetic messages from your coworkers. Feeling confused, you went on to check your email, only to find that the promotion you’d spent the last few months of your life slaving away for had been given to someone else—someone who had worked half as hard as you, and even took credit for a few of your projects. 

Your hands shook as you set down your phone and attempted to pick back up the crochet hook. You were fine, right? Sometimes these things just happen. Sometimes you sacrifice hours of your free time, hours of time you’ll never get back with your child, or significant other, hours you’ll never get back of sleep, hours of-

You cut your mind off, tossing aside the scarf and taking a deep breath. You were gonna be okay. This just meant you could take your foot off the gas going forward, since your work, effort, and time clearly was not being valued. Maybe you would just sit at your desk and play games, then slap your name on projects and presentations like Naomi. Maybe you’d just-

Your phone began to vibrate on your bed and your immediate reaction was to silence it, but upon checking the contact name, you became slightly more inclined to answer. 

“Hey! I almost thought you weren’t gonna pick up,” the man on the other end chuckled. 

“Is everything okay?” you asked, although you weren’t sure you’d be able to handle anything else today. With how your day was going, Joel was probably calling you to break up.

“Better than okay. We finished up early, and Sarah’s already at her friend’s. You in the mood for some company?”

No, not particularly. In fact, if Joel came over, you’d probably end up going off on him over something you don’t really mean, successfully putting an end to the best thing you’ve had in a while. 

“Uh,” your voice cracked, and a rogue tear slipped down your face. You didn’t even know that you were on the brink of tears. “I’m sorry,” you uttered, digging the heels of your hands into your eyes. 

“Sorry for what? You don’t have to feel bad for not wanting me over,” he said genuinely, not picking up on your emotional state over the phone. 

“No, I do want you over,” you whimpered. “I just… I don’t want to lose you, too.”

“What? I promise you I’m not going anywhere. Well, I’m going home now, but I can also come to your place if you want me to.”

“Please,” you grit out. 

“You okay?” he asked, finally catching on to the fact that something was very off with you. 

“I don’t know,” you confessed. 

“Do you want me to stay on the phone with you?”

“No.”

“You sure you want me to come over?”

“Yeah,” you sniffled, desperately trying to fend off your tears.

“Okay, sweetheart. I’ll see you soon, alright?”

“Bye,” you hung up, burrowing yourself under layers of blankets and curling up onto your side. Maybe this tidal wave of emotions would pass by the time Joel got to your place. You closed your eyes as you took deep, shaky breaths, wiping away stray tears every now and then as they fell. You could pull yourself together. 

You kept telling yourself this as you dragged yourself out of bed to answer the door, but the moment you saw Joel with a box of chocolates and a bouquet of flowers, you completely lost it. He immediately tossed the items down and pulled you into a tight embrace, not exactly knowing what was wrong, but instinctually wanting to comfort you regardless. 

You didn’t even really know what it was either. Sure, you were pissed that you’d lost the promotion, and even more upset that Nathan had called your daughter a name while insulting your parenting skills, but it was far more than that. It was every little thing from the past two months that had upset you in some capacity that you had decided to push as far down as possible. 

You sobbed until your throat was raw and your eyes grew sore from crying so much. The whole time Joel wordlessly held you, rubbing soothing circles into your back and swaying you back and forth just the slightest bit. You almost felt like your tears would never stop, and the more you willed yourself to pull it together, the harder it was to do so. 

Finally, you pulled away, head hanging with humiliation by the emotions abruptly pouring out of you. You truly felt like a live wire. You should’ve just told Joel not to come over. 

“Want me to run you a bath?” he asked softly, tilting your chin up so he could look at you, and rubbing a thumb over your cheek. “Or is there anything I can do to make you feel better?”

“A bath is good,” you said quietly, averting your gaze. You almost felt like a toddler in the midst of a tantrum. The shame of being a grown woman who couldn’t even control her emotions was overwhelming, but Joel didn’t seem to mind much at all. He simply led you up to your bathroom and quietly filled the tub for you, checking it every now and then to make sure it wasn’t too hot. Once the tub was filled up, he helped you undress, then held your hand as you stepped into the tub. 

“Would you like me to stay?” Joel asked as you settled into the tub. 

“Not really,” you admitted. 

“Okay. Just yell for me if you need anything. I’ll be downstairs.”

Somehow, the bath was everything you needed. It was just warm enough to relax your rather tense muscles, and just quiet enough to allow you to actually process your thoughts. You sat and soaked in the bath for a while, just inhaling the scent of lavender, and trying your best to let go of the feelings that you’d been holding onto for so long. 

Eventually, you felt ready to talk about things, and called out Joel’s name, who after a moment, showed up in your bathroom and sat down on a towel next to the tub. 

“How are you feeling?” he asked, reaching for your pruny hand. 

“Better,” you answered as you laced your fingers with his.  

“Well, I’m here when you feel ready to talk about it. And if you don’t feel ready to talk about it, that’s okay too.” 

“Okay,” you said quietly. “I’m sorry,” you apologized, the apology being more of a force of habit. 

“You don’t need to be sorry,” Joel  assured, “we all feel our feelings sometimes,” he pushed away a bit of hair that had fallen into your face. 

“I’m sorry you had to see me like this, I guess,” you continued. It had been a while since you’d shown any negative emotions in front of anyone, let alone a significant other. In fact, the last time you’d been sad in front of a significant other, you’d been laughed at and mocked. You’d been conditioned to see your own vulnerability as weakness, as a character flaw you needed to apologize for.

“Like what? Naked?” he teased, trying to at least make you smile when you’d clearly been feeling so down. “You know I don’t mind that at all. Seriously, though. There’s nothing wrong with being upset, and there’s nothing wrong with being upset in front of the people you care about.”

A tear slipped down your cheek. It had been so long since anyone had made you feel like you weren’t a burden for having a rough day. Joel gently brushed away your tears with his thumb, and kissed your forehead. 

“Thank you,” you muttered, feeling all sorts of feelings, particularly one feeling you couldn’t quite describe that had been lying dormant for years of your life. 

You eventually got out of the tub once the water had become too cold and you had become

somewhat of a human prune, and you found yourself curled up in bed with Joel, wearing a flannel that he’d left behind the last time he was over. 

“Feeling any better?” he asked once again, gently rubbing your back as a trashy reality TV show played quietly in the background. 

“Yeah,” you mumbled as you looked up at the ceiling, “it’s been a rough few months.” 

“Months?” Joel asked, scooting closer to you. “What’s been happening?”

“Too much to get into,” you sighed. “I guess it just all came out now.”

Joel turned down the volume of the TV, and turned his body so that he could face you properly. “If you want to talk, we have the time. I may or may not have drank a coffee on my way over here, so I’ll be completely alert for the next few hours.”

He gently grabbed your hand and squeezed it, a little reminder that he was here for you. 

“Today’s just been… bad. When Nathan picked Chloe up, she was upset so he called her a spoiled brat and said that it was my fault that she was one. Obviously I do a lot for her, and I know that I’m a good mom, but sometimes the way he talks about her scares me a little. I don’t want her to have self-esteem issues because her dad likes to name-call. I mean, she’s probably gonna have enough issues from our shitty relationship and messy divorce. That really upset me, but that definitely wasn’t the last straw or anything.”

Joel silently sat and listened, holding your hand and listening attentively.

“I lost the promotion, Joel. You know, the one I’ve been working absurd hours for? But it’s not just that, it’s just… there are months of emotions I haven’t had a chance to process. I guess it just all came out now after that.”

“I’m so sorry,” he said softly. “Nathan is an asshole. He shouldn’t be saying that kind of thing about his child just to make you feel bad. And your boss is stupid for not giving you that position when you’ve clearly earned it. Everything you’ve felt today is valid, but so is everything else that you’ve been holding in for the past… however long. It’s okay to feel your feelings in the moment instead of waiting for them to boil over.”

“I guess, it’s just… I don’t know. I’ve had to be strong for so long. I don’t know if I know how to not wait for my emotions to boil over.”

“Well, you don’t have to be so strong anymore. You’re not alone,” he assured you. “If you ever need me to watch Chloe because you need to go out to the middle of nowhere and scream, or just need someone to talk your feelings out with, I am more than happy to do so. Okay?”

“Okay,” you agreed, setting your head on Joel’s chest. 

You were getting that weird, dormant feeling in you once again. There was an odd warmth in your chest and butterflies in your stomach, that felt strange and familiar, but most of all, exciting. You had no idea what was going on, or what that feeling was, but you did know that you didn’t want it to stop anytime soon.

And honestly, it didn’t seem like it would. 

Two

Walking into Joel’s home to the sound of soft guitar chords made you feel a bit like you had woken up in a dream, or died and gone to heaven. It wasn’t often that you’d heard him play guitar. Sing? Sure! He loved to sing along to a song he liked on the radio, or do karaoke with you and the kids. But playing guitar was something that he seemed to like to keep to himself.

Joel had picked Chloe up from school, as you had an important work event that you’d anticipated going quite late, and as you’d predicted, it was nearly midnight by the time you got to Joel’s place. It was rare for you to see those two alone, without yours or Sarah’s presence, but you’d assumed the latter had gone to bed due to how late it was and the fact that they had school in the morning.

So hearing Joel play for your daughter felt… weird. But a good weird. Like he trusted her enough to be doing something that he often kept under wraps, even for you.

“I love this song!” you heard your daughter exclaim from the living room. You rounded a corner, not quite ready to appear yet, but curious enough to eavesdrop on the scene.

Joel chuckled at her reaction, “should we sing it together?”

“Maybe, I’m not very good, though.”

“I doubt that,” Joel said, continuing to play the introduction to the song on a loop. 

“I… fine, I’ll sing.”

The two of them began to sing along to the song, and you could’ve sworn that your heart did an actual flip as you listened. There was something very sweet about the whole scene, of Joel playing a song your daughter loved, of him assuring her that she was good enough, and singing something together. 

You should’ve felt bad for listening in on the scene, for invading on a moment that was clearly meant to be private, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to feel that way when your heart was so filled with… something that you couldn’t quite place.

The song came to a soft conclusion, and you figured there was no better time to finally step out from behind the wall than then. 

“You guys sounded so good!” you stated as you entered the room.

“Oh hi,” Joel greeted a little awkwardly, looking down at his guitar as if he’d been caught red handed. 

“Mom!” Chloe exclaimed, coming over to you and hugging you. “I missed you.”

“We were just killing time while we waited for you to get home. How was work?”

“Eh,” you shrugged, sitting down across from Joel as Chloe curled up next to you. “It was work.”

“Mom, did you know that Joel sings and plays guitar? He’s really good!”

“Really? I didn’t know that,” you acted surprised for your child, but looked mischievously at your partner. It wasn’t often that you had the chance to get Joel to play you something, and you refused to let the opportunity slip away from you. “Can you play me something?”

“He can!” Chloe accepted the offer before Joel could begin to protest. God, was this child your mini-you. “Go ahead, Joel.”

He looked to you as if he needed some sort of excuse to not do it, or encouragement to play (more likely than not, he was looking for an out), but you simply shrugged, far too enthused at the idea of him playing guitar for you. 

Just as the man sighed and began to put his fingers to the string, Sarah came down the stairs and plopped herself right next to you. 

“You guys are loud,” she stated, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. 

“Sorry for waking you up,” you apologized. “You were just about to miss your dad’s concert!”

“Oh good,” Sarah giggled, getting all comfortable next to you as she pulled a blanket over her lap. 

“I feel like this is a premeditated attack,” Joel held onto his guitar. 

“It’s definitely not. We just want you to share your gift with the world!”

“Alright, fine. Only because I like you guys so much.”

The three of you cheered from the couch as Joel began to play again, the soft acoustic notes of a love song you’d heard a few times before. As Joel played and sang, he looked straight at you, and you couldn’t help but feel like the lyrics were coming straight from his heart to you. 

That warm, fuzzy feeling in your chest that you’d become more and more familiar with over the course of your relationship began to reappear as you sat there, the moment a snapshot of the perfect domestic bliss that had become your home life. As you sat with your two favorite children in the world, and your favorite man, you realized that you’d never felt more content in your life. 

Three

When you agreed to come to a bar with Joel, you hadn’t expected it to be a quaint little hole-in-the-wall with great live music. 

The atmosphere was lively, the drinks were dangerously sweet, and best of all, it was cute watching Joel in his element. Part of you wondered if he ever saw himself up on the stage, playing for a little audience. Although, he was so bashful and shy playing in front of you and the girls that you wondered if he would like it at all. 

You finished off your first drink rather quickly, but you were feeling up for another, and prepared to head back to the bar. “Do you want another drink?” you asked Joel over the loud music. 

“I’m alright. Thank you, though,” he kissed your cheek, then looked back up at the stage, directing all of his focus there once more. 

You made your way back to the bar, where you ordered another fruity drink for yourself and patiently waited for it to be made, humming along to the cover being sung on stage. 

Being able to find out more about what Joel liked to spend his time doing was (unsurprisingly) quite nice. While he was vulnerable with his emotions, he was often a little more closed off when it came to sharing his hobbies and interests. You wondered how many of these live shows and open mics he was familiar with, how many local artists he was friends with. Would he ever feel comfortable enough around you to share those things with you? Well, you certainly hoped so. 

You looked around with a small smile on your face at the thought of learning more about your partner’s interests. Had he ever been the one up on stage? Maybe before Sarah was born and he was launched straight into the time consuming world of fatherhood. Although, he surely would’ve shared that with you by now.

You were drawn out of thought when eyes landed on a head of hair that looked a little too familiar for your liking.  

No.

There was no way.

This bar was definitely not his scene. In fact, if you’d suggested this bar, he would’ve laughed in your face and called you a hipster, before dragging you out to some stuffy restaurant where he’d complain about the portion size of both his meal and the bill. 

Your mind was just playing a mean trick on you. You’d had a somewhat stressful week, and sometimes drinking made you the slightest bit paranoid. Besides, it was just someone’s hair. Literally anyone could have that hair color, or hair cut, and although the world was small, it wasn’t that small. 

Just as you began to fall headfirst into your nerves, the bartender handed you your drink, and you walked back to Joel, head still in the clouds. 

You couldn’t shake that off feeling, even as Joel danced around with you and stole a sip of your drink, both actions bringing a smile to your face, but not quite quelling the growing discomfort in your stomach. 

You just needed to go clear your mind and freshen up. At least, that’s what you told yourself before telling Joel to keep your drink safe and power walking to the bathroom.

You stood at the sink, splashing your face with water as cold as the faucets would go. Nathan was not here. You needed to just relax, and enjoy the fun date that Joel had planned. You couldn’t keep letting this man ruin your experiences, even when he wasn’t present.

“You okay, hun?” a voice asked you while your head was bowed over the sink. When you looked up, your eyes nearly popped out of your head, as if you were some ridiculous cartoon character. 

Well. Your brain must’ve really been fucking with you today. Or the Universe just really hated you. 

Claire, Nathan’s new girlfriend, was asking you if you were alright in the bathroom of a bar that your new boyfriend had suggested. 

You were completely unsure of whether she knew who you were or not, although she seemed tipsy enough not to care. 

“Oh, I’m fine,” you smiled awkwardly at her. “But, uh, my mascara’s a little smudged. Any chance you have a makeup wipe?”

“Yeah!” she said, digging into her purse to check for the item. 

You’d never met Claire before, but as far as first impressions went, this one wasn’t too bad. She offered you the wipe, then stood next to you as you dabbed at your under eye. 

“You meet anyone fun tonight?” she asked, beginning to touch up her own makeup. 

“No, I’m actually here with my partner. He really likes the music,” you said casually, dabbing at the same spot so you could at least attempt to maintain your composure in an otherwise dramatically ironic and tense situation. 

“Oh no. Was he the one making you cry?”

“Cry? No! I was sweating. We were dancing,” suddenly, a slightly perverse question crossed your mind. “Does your partner make you cry a lot?”

“How do you even know I have one?” she giggled, sounding less accusatory and more confused. 

“I don’t I just-“

“No, not really,” she shrugged as she reapplied her lip liner. “He mostly just buys me shit and spoils me. What would I have to cry about? He’s a really good guy.”

Oh, you remembered that phase. Well, phases. The time after he’d slapped you during an argument immediately came to mind. Nathan could probably teach a seminar on love bombing, then making you feel guilty for having any negative feelings because of all the money he’d spent on you. 

“That’s good,” you nodded, tossing the used wipe in the trash and making your way to the door. “Thanks for checking in on me and helping me. Have a good night.”

“Hey, do I know you from somewhere?” she asked as your hand hit the door.

“No,” you replied promptly, maybe slamming the door behind you a little too hard. 

This was a lot to process, and a lot to take in. Despite having a fun time with Joel, you really just wanted to go home. Finding your way back out to him, you silently accepted back your drink and stood besides him stiffly. 

“You okay?” he asked, gently grabbing your arm. 

“Fine, just… just.. I have an upset stomach,” you explained. You were never a good liar, the concern in Joel’s eyes told you that you hadn’t suddenly become one. 

“I’m sorry, sweetie,” he said, rubbing your forearm gently. “Let’s go home, okay?”

You certainly didn’t protest as he began to lead you out of the bar, and you let out a sigh of relief at being able to leave before running into anyone else you knew.

Although, life was never that simple, was it?

As you approached the door, a familiar voice called out your name, sending a chill up your spine. Joel’s head whipped around from where it was coming from, and scowled when he saw who the voice belonged to. Ignoring him, the two of you continued your departure, a newfound urgency in both of your steps.

Once you were outside, you felt yourself puff out a sigh of relief. You’d managed to get out of the bar with only a brief conversation with Claire, and no direct interaction with Nathan. Now, if you could only get home, curl up with Joel on the couch, and tell him the absurd story of how you’d bumped into your ex’s new girlfriend in the bathroom. 

But the universe clearly wasn’t letting you off the hook just yet.

“Hey!” Nathan called as he stepped out of the bar, Claire trailing just a few paces behind him. “You’re such a fuckin’ bitch. Can’t even say hi to the father of your child.”

You were almost alarmed by the speed in which Joel marched over to your ex and reprimanded him. Not even wasting a moment, Joel shoved him back—a warning of sorts, with your knowledge that he was certainly holding himself back. 

“Leave her the fuck alone,” he barked. It was like no tone you’d ever heard him use before, not when he was upset with anyone, and not even when he was yelling at a referee for a bad call.  

“And who the fuck are you?” your ex shot back. 

“Does it really matter?” Joel pressed, not backing down despite the slightly shorter man getting in his face. “You’re not gonna go around trying to degrade women.”

“Oh yeah? You gonna stop me, Mr. Nice guy?” Nathan pushed Joel, but your partner barely budged. 

“You fuckin’ cuck,” Nathan muttered. “Why do you even care about this whore?”

Nathan took a second to think about it, glancing between the two of you before a light seemed to go off in his little brain. 

“Oh, I know. You’re that guy from the soccer games. You two together now?" His condescension was almost jarring to hear, and part of you worried about what your clearly inebriated ex might say or do next. “I see you’re still the community cumrag,” he directed at you. 

You hardly had a moment to process what was just said before Joel was swinging, clearly seeing red as he threw a hefty right hook at your ex, leaving a nasty crunching sound as he fell to the ground. 

“Don’t talk about her, or any other fucking woman like that ever again,” he squatted down to his level, and grabbed both of his cheeks. “Leave her the fuck alone, you understand me? Or next time you’re gonna wish it was just your nose.”

Nathan cradled his bloody nose and whimpered and Joel walked back to you, the fury on his face melting into something apologetic as you looked at him with wide eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he began, cautiously approaching you as if he was something to be afraid of. “I shouldn’t have done that. I overstepped-“

“Joel. Don’t apologize. Do you know how much that asshole deserved it? You did everyone a favor tonight, but especially me.” 

You had never had someone defend you so literally before. Sure, your friends had argued with Nathan a few times on your behalf, but punching Nathan in the face had truly raised your expectations for anyone who claimed to be doing anything to help you. You don’t think you’d have felt this alive or cherished in years. 

“Now let’s get you home and ice those knuckles.”

Four

You were usually a big fan of rainy days. The sound of rain pattering against the window or on the roof of your car, and the smell of petrichor on the pavement were sensations you wished you could experience all the time. But today, you weren’t quite so pleased to see the rain. 

You’d taken the day off to spend it with Joel, who had specifically asked for you to take some time off to be with him. You couldn’t blame him, as you’d been slightly neglecting him after things picked up once again at work. You’d had a whole outdoorsy day planned, with a morning hike, a visit to a conservatory, and a picnic at one of your favorite local parks. Unfortunately, none of those activities could be done comfortably in the pouring rain. 

Instead, you opted to come back to your place after you dropped your kids off at school, and have a domestic little day-in.

After putting some homemade cinnamon rolls into the oven, the two of you found yourselves on your couch, comfortably sitting together and reading your own books while the smell of warm cinnamon filled your house. 

Occasionally, you glanced out your window, the scene of rain granting you a sense of serenity. At one point, you noticed Joel’s gaze out the window as well, and you couldn’t help but comment on it. 

“Don’t you just love the rain?” you asked, setting your book down on your coffee table. It was more of an excuse to break the silence than an actual comment, but you said it regardless.

“It’s nice,” he agreed, his tone oddly somber for a comment on the rain. 

“You okay, big guy?” you asked before moving closer to Joel. 

“I’m alright,” he smiled, but it didn’t quite meet his eyes. There wasn’t any real concrete evidence that something was off, but something inside you told you that something definitely was off. 

“You sure?” you asked, squeezing his bicep. 

“Yeah, it’s just,” he paused, looking down at his book as if he was about to go right back to reading instead of telling you the issue. After a moment of hesitation, he spoke once more, “it’s the anniversary of Diane leaving.”

Oh. So that’s why he’d asked to be with you today.

You’d never heard Joel say her name before. Sure, you’d seen her name written under a polaroid or two, but you’d never heard Joel reference her ever. Now that you thought about it, you didn’t really know what their deal was. Amicable exes? Divorcees? Was Joel a widower? You felt awful that you’d gone this far into a relationship and still didn’t know anything about his last significant one. 

“I’m sorry,” you said quietly, not completely sure how to react. You mainly wanted to get a gauge on Joel’s reaction–just how upset was he? Did he want to talk about it? Or just get the importance of the day out in the open?

“It’s just… Today feels like that day in a lot of ways.”

You nodded slowly, still not exactly sure of how to approach the situation. You thought back to all of the times he’d been there to support you when you were having a rough day, and ended up asking aloud, “is there anything I can do to make you feel better?” 

“Maybe just listening, if that’s okay. It helps to talk about it,” he paused. “The rolls smell done. I’ll go get them,” with that, he was off to the kitchen, barely giving you time to react, or even protest his departure.

He clearly wanted to talk, but just wasn’t completely ready to do so at that moment. You could listen. You could be the best damn listener on the planet if that was what Joel needed from you. No matter what he revealed to you today, you were determined to make Joel feel comfortable, and know that whatever he was going through, he wasn’t alone—just as he’d shown you in the past.

By the time he came back to the living room, Joel offered you a plate with an iced cinnamon roll and acted like everything was normal. He sat back down next to you, stole a bite from your plate, then buried his nose right back into his novel.

You respected his right to process his emotions in any way he saw fit. All you could do was be a good partner, and offer whatever he needed from you to feel better, like he’d done for you so many times before. 

While you were fine with spending your day cuddled up on the sofa and reading, you were also aware that there were a good amount of house chores that were calling your name. Upon mentioning these tasks, Joel insisted on helping out, which was how you two landed in the laundry room, laughing at something stupid that had happened to you this week. 

While you loaded light clothes into your washer, Joel suddenly caught you off guard with a question that was a far cry from the banter you’d just been having only moments before. 

“Is it… are you okay with me talking about it?”

By it you could only assume he meant the giant elephant of a woman in the room. 

“Of course,” you turned to him, offering sympathetic eyes. 

“She left just a few months after Sarah was born,” Joel busied himself by pouring out laundry detergent and fabric softeners. “I just woke up one morning to an empty bed and a note in the kitchen saying she was leaving, she wasn’t coming back, and not to look for her.”

You were taken aback by the cruelty of such an abrupt ending, especially with such a young infant. You couldn’t imagine being put in those circumstances so unexpectedly. 

Joel casually poured the respective liquids into their proper places in the machine, then turned it on. “It was a day just like this. The nursery had a nice, big window that we put a rocking chair in front of. Sarah liked looking at the stars when she was younger, it always helped to calm her down. I remember holding her in that chair and bawling my eyes out while she cried too, and with all the rain against the window… it felt like the Earth was crying right along with us.”

You weren’t sure what to say or how to react, but it seemed like Joel was prepared to move right on, quickly changing the subject as he led you out of the laundry room. 

Baking cinnamon rolls had left a lot of dishes in the sink, but luckily for you, you had an extra set of hands to help you out. Joel was on rinsing duty, and you were on loading.

You quickly found your rhythm, as you often did with partnered tasks. You worked quietly while loading the dishes, letting the music from your speaker fill up the silence, but it was obvious Joel was lost in thought.

Eventually, he quietly began to speak again, “I kept trying to make sense of her leaving. I knew that postpartum depression hit her really hard, and that she was barely sleeping at night because of how often Sarah was crying. Sarah was a really sensitive, fussy baby. She’d told me how she’d felt a few times, and I always kinda thought things would just pass. Every new parent hits that roadbump where they just can’t see themselves doing this thing forever, right? Then, she just left. I thought maybe she just needed a few days away, and that she’d be back. But days went by, then weeks, then it had been a month, and it was still just Sarah and I.”

“Did she ever come back around?” you asked, setting down the last dish into the sink, then closing the machine.

“Never heard from her again.”

You closed the distance between you and the man, wrapping him in as tight of a hug that you could manage. 

“I’m so sorry,” you muttered into his shirt as he melted into your embrace. “I can’t even imagine how painful and stressful that was.”

As a mother, you couldn’t imagine abandoning your child; the tiny human being you spent nine months carrying, and would spend a lifetime loving. But as a human, you understood the stress of being the parent of a newborn. Waking up every few hours because your baby is crying and you’ve tried everything to get her to stop but she just… won’t. Paired with postpartum depression, which you were no stranger to, you could understand the circumstances that led Diane to feeling like she had no other option but to leave. But that didn’t, in any way, make it the right thing to do. 

As you held Joel, a sound you hadn’t ever heard from him escaped his lips, wracking his body. A guttural cry that had clearly been trapped deep inside of him for the longest time had suddenly escaped as he recalled an event that had clearly changed his life. 

You stood in the kitchen holding him for what felt like forever, when he finally pulled away, wiping his face a little bit. 

“Thank you,” was all that he managed to get out.

You laid next to him in bed after a rather emotionally loaded session of lovemaking, trying to catch your breath as the two of you recovered from the underlying emotional and physical aftermath of your fornication. As Joel spooned you, a question lingered on your mind. 

“Do you still love her?” you asked, keeping your eyes forward on the wall. You wanted to say you were sure he had moved on, but these types of situations were rather nuanced. There were just some bonds that regardless of time or circumstances, people continued to hold on to. 

“No,” he answered clearly. “I don’t hate her, either. I guess I just understand her. But that doesn’t make what she put me or Sarah through any better.” 

You slipped your hand down to where his were currently laying on your stomach, and you set one on top of his. 

“I’m not jealous, I’m just curious. Do you ever miss her?” 

“I used to,” he sighed, the close breath blowing some hairs on your neck. “I don’t anymore.”

Eventually, your laundry was dry, meaning you two needed to get out of bed and get to folding. 

“She has a new family, now,” he said out of the blue, as he folded up a pair of your pajama pants. “Husband, kids, dog, the full nine yards. Tommy found her Facebook a few years ago, but I still haven’t looked. I don’t really know why.”

You didn’t really know why either, but you knew exactly the feeling he was experiencing. Seeing your ex who you’d invested so much into and had a child with move on with someone was a particularly gut wrenching feeling. You could only imagine how much worse it was in Joel’s scenario, where Diane had abandoned him and their child, yet had a child and built another family elsewhere. 

“Does Sarah know?” you asked, putting a blouse onto a hanger. 

“Bits and pieces. She kinda just accepted that her mom’s not in the picture, but doesn’t know why she left or anything about her mom’s new family,” Joel finished up with his basket, then began to help you with yours. “Maybe when she’s older. Old enough to understand that it isn’t her fault and that these things just… happen sometimes.”

“I guess,” you frowned as you grabbed your last article of clothing and hung it up. “It shouldn’t have happened, though. Neither of you deserved to be abandoned.”

“It was gonna happen one way or another,” Joel shrugged, putting your baskets away. “Our relationship had been on the rocks even before Diane became pregnant. If it wasn’t then, it would be later. I’m just glad it happened early enough that Sarah doesn’t remember. You in the mood for a coffee?”

His words gave you a bit of whiplash, but you accepted the offer of a warm drink regardless. 

You sat at your table, stirring your drink as Joel sat down across from you. 

“Good, right?” he asked. “I think I’ve officially nailed the way you like your coffee.”

“It’s pretty good,” you admitted, taking a sip from a mug that Chloe had decorated in her school’s art class. 

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Good. It is one,” you hummed. 

It was clear that his mood was slightly improving the more that he talked about his experience. You wondered just how much of this information he’d shared with anyone else before you, as he told the story as if he were confessing something for the first time ever. 

“I’ve never told anyone this much about it,” he confessed. “I’m glad that of all the people I could’ve told, it ended up being you.”

“Joel, I,” the words popped into your head, but died on your tongue. “I care about you so much. I know this can’t be easy to talk about, so thank you for sharing this with me,” you squeezed his hands across the table. 

“Thank you for being so supportive. I also care about you a lot. So much that it scares me. Especially knowing that you could lose everything in a literal night,” he admitted. 

“Oh Joel,” you said softly. “I’m also scared. I’m always so scared that I’ll lose you and Sarah and this little blended family we’ve made. But if that’s the price I pay for… caring about you so much, I’m okay with being afraid.”

Joel looked at you like he had something to say, but instead sat there quietly for a moment, processing your words. “Do you want to watch an episode of The Bachelorette?” 

“Is that even a question? C’mon,” you stood up.

The two of you cuddled up on the couch once again, this time with a much lighter feeling in the room, partially due to what Joel had confessed to you, and partially due to the absolutely ridiculous content playing on your television.

“I’m sad that I had to go through what I had to go through, but I’m glad that it led me to you,” Joel said out of the blue, resting his forehead against yours.

You were glad that he found you too.

Five

It wasn’t every day that the forces of the universe seemed to be on your side, but for some reason, today was one of those days. 

When you’d been called into your boss’ office that morning, a pit formed in your stomach. You’d figured that the day you were going to be laid off was coming, especially following the whole promotion fiasco. As you walked into her office, you fully intended to be walking out without a job. 

Except, that wasn’t what happened. You had been promoted, and promoted into a position even higher than the one you’d previously been gunning after. 

Once you found out, you had to fight the urge to skip out of your boss’s office, singing and dancing with joy. Instead, you fought that urge by closing the door to your office, and calling Joel. 

“Hey honey, what’s up?” he answered casually. 

“Joel, they promoted me! And it’s an even better position than what I was trying to get before!” you squealed. 

Joel cheered from over the phone, making you somehow smile even harder. “Congratulations! I’m so proud of you. I can’t think of anyone who deserves this more than you.”

“Oh my god, stop it,” you giggled, putting your hands up to your warm cheeks. 

“No, I’m serious,” Joel countered. “I know a lot of hard workers, and none of them work as hard as you. You’ve sacrificed so much to get here and it’s finally paid off.”

“Thank you, Joel,” you had more to say, but you decided to keep it to yourself. Mainly, how did you get so lucky to end up with a man like him? 

“Are you busy tonight?” he asked. 

“I’m just dropping Chloe off at my mom’s, then I should be free for the evening. Why?”

“Why don’t you come over to my place so we can celebrate? You picked the right time to get a promotion. Sarah’s going to her uncle’s for the weekend.”

“Sounds good to me,” you hummed. “I’ll text you when I’m heading over.”

“Alright. Again, congratulations! So proud.”

You hung up and attempted to get back to work, but you were far too excited to focus for too long. You somehow made it to the end of the work day and to Joel’s house without spontaneously combusting from joy.

When you walked in, you were immediately met with the smells of one of your favorite candles, mixed with the mouthwatering scent of fragrant coming from the kitchen. 

“Joel, I’m home!” you announced, making your way to the kitchen only to find it very dressed up. The lights were dimmed, a crisp white table cloth rested on the table, and a gorgeous arrangement of flowers sat in a vase in the middle of the table, right next to a rather nice looking bottle of champagne. 

Joel was finishing up plating something spectacular as you came in. “Please, have a seat,” he directed. You didn’t need to be told twice. 

With the arrangement of the table, you almost felt like you were sitting at a fancy little restaurant, but better, knowing all the effort Joel had put into making the table look this way.  He brought over two plates, set one over at his seat and one in front of you, before leaning down and kissing you gently. 

“Congratulations. I am so, so, so proud of you,” he said after finally pulling away, reaching for the bottle of champagne on the table.

“If anyone in the world deserves good things,” he turned away from you so that he could safely pop the bottle. “It’s you. I’m glad you’re finally getting the recognition that you deserve.”

With the bottle opened, he poured you out a glass, then poured himself some. You lifted up your glass and Joel mirrored you.

“Cheers,” you said with a grin, tapping your glasses together, then taking a sip. Once you finished drinking, Joel leaned in for one more kiss before he situated himself back into his chair. 

“I think you deserve a promotion from best boyfriend in the world to best boyfriend in the universe,” you softly laughed, looking down at your plate. 

“Do I? I think anyone would celebrate the person they…” he paused for just a split second, and you probably wouldn’t have noticed it if you weren’t paying such close attention. “The person they’re sharing their life with if they made a big accomplishment like this.”

“Honey, you’d be very surprised. I can think of at least one person who would view this promotion as a bad thing.”

“Well, don’t think about them right now. This is an amazing thing, and we’re celebrating you today. Not an insecure man with a Napoleon complex and a small penis.”

You laughed out loud, nearly choking on a bubbly sip of champagne. 

“You’re right,” you picked up your fork and knife, reading to dig into the amazing looking meal in front of you. “Thank you for this, Joel. You always make me feel so appreciated and cherished. You’re truly one of a kind.”

He shook his head bashfully at the compliment, eating right along with you. It was almost cute how he never seemed to accept compliments, but certainly deserved them more than basically any other person that you knew. 

“You always show me how much you care about me. It’s only fair that I do the same.”

“You’re so romantic,” you sighed. “How can I guarantee that I can keep you around forever?”

“Just keep being you, I guess. That’s all I’ve really ever wanted.”

How did you get so lucky? How did you manage to hit the jackpot on men with Joel, almost let it slip through your fingers not once, but twice, and still managed to end up with one of your favorite people in the world? 

However it ended up happening, you certainly weren’t mad at it, and as you sat together, you hoped for things never to change. 

Plus One

Given that you practically lived at each other’s homes now, you often spent your mornings together getting ready to take on the day. It was cute how you both had your own little routines and were able to coexist in a tiny little space. 

Today, you stood in Joel’s bathroom, washing your face as the mirror across from you began to become progressively more foggy from the heat of Joel’s shower. 

“My hair is gonna be so frizzy,” you muttered to yourself as you rubbed moisturizer into your skin. 

“Hey, you’re the one who wanted to come in here with me,” Joel shot back from the shower, turning the water off. 

“Whatever,” you grumbled, getting back to work on your face as Joel dried himself off and wrapped a towel around his waist. 

“You’re so cute when you’re grumpy in the morning,” he commented as he approached you, standing next to you at the sink. 

“I am not grumpy,” you argued, then paused once Joel gave you a very disbelieving expression. “Fine. I can get a little irritable in the morning. Especially when someone’s boiling hot showers make my hair get all frizzy.”

“I wonder who that someone is?” Joel looked around the room in faux confusion. 

“Ugh, shut up. You are such a dad,” you fought back laughter, but you couldn’t really help the smile that appeared on your lips. 

“Shutting up,” Joel acknowledged, grabbing his razor and some shaving cream to touch up some of his facial hair. You began to brush your teeth, focusing on yourself in the mirror to make sure that you were making your dentist proud. 

Your eyes eventually migrated and were meeting Joel’s in the mirror. You flashed him a big, foamy grin, and he immediately broke into hysterics, setting the razor down so he didn’t cut himself while laughing so hard. 

“Really?” he asked between laughs. “While I’m shaving?”

“Sorry,” you shrugged with a self-satisfied smirk. 

“You are such a dork,” Joel sighed as he calmed himself down, leaning against the counter as he began to work on shaving his face once more. “Ugh, I love you,” the words seemed to come out of his mouth involuntarily, if the horrified look on his face told you anything. 

It seemed like the whole house stopped after Joel said it, the dripping from the showerhead ceasing, the faint buzz of the air conditioner nowhere to be found, and the noises of your children downstairs coming to a halt.

You were shocked at the admission, and Joel seemed to be shocked that he’d said anything. 

Now that he’d mentioned it, you really did love Joel. You loved how he supported you, and how he treated your daughter like she was his own. You loved that he wasn’t afraid to fight for what he believed in, especially when that included socking your ex in the face. You loved his ability to be vulnerable with you, and the way that he seemed to always know what to say at the right time. You loved knowing that no matter how shitty of a day you’d had, Joel would always be there, ready to order your favorite foods and spoon you while decompressing with the worst, most trashy reality TV you could find. 

You’d spent all this time thinking that you’d never experience romantic love again, that romantic love was tumultuous and exhausting, when you’d been in love with Joel the whole time. 

You were one of those people who were meant to love and be loved. Joel had proven that much to you. 

“I love you too,” you confessed, toothpaste still obstructing your mouth.

Maybe love wasn't so bad after all.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fluff #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us #joel miller imagine #pedro pascal x reader #soccer parents au

[s3thwrit3sstuff]

❝ YOU ALREADY HAVE A PIECE OF MY HEART (WHICH I HAVE NEVER GIVEN TO YOU) ❞

Gojo Satoru x male!reader | Nanami Kento x male!reader | Sukuna Ryomen x male!reader | Geto Suguru x male!reader | polycule (Satoru x r! x Suguru), polygamy (Satoru x r!, Satoru x Suguru, r! x Satoru, r! x Kento) | Heian Era!Sukuna Ryomen x Heian Era!male!reader | drabble of alternate universes | NOT PROOFREAD

warnings: burn scars, battle scars, grief, derealization, trauma (so much trauma), major character deaths (Satoru, Suguru, Tsumiki, Nanako, Mimiko, Principal Yaga, (Y/N)'s mom), Fushiguro Megumi angst, Junpei mentioned (surprisingly without angst), Itadori Yuji angst (minor), NSFW content for Sukuna's section, implied cannibalism

masterlist; part 1; part 2; part 3; alternate ending; playlist; au's and what if's

authors note: NOT PROOFREAD AT ALL! The formatting is a bit all over the place but these are straight-up taken from Discord chats I had with Elias, pls. I hope they're not too hard to understand. These are all basically "what ifs" and alternate universes + one section for Heian Period Ryomen Sukuna with a (L/N)'s ancestor! " " = means straight-up copy-pasted so I guess they kinda act as a foreword for each drabble

starting off with some HCs of (Y/N)’s high school years!

(Y/N) thinks Satoru must understand the pain of being the next head of the clan, get trained vigorously, and deal with aching bones and sores. Nope! Satoru’s never dealt with that much less dealt with (Y/N)’s father.

Shoko has a dark sense of humour so she laughs at his dark jokes but (Y/N) does notice the three of them end up pampering him more often.

Satoru buys him food most of the time. Drinks and snacks and ice cream, if (Y/N) gazes at something too long Satoru just tosses it into his cart.

Suguru tends to help him stretch or massage him. He’d even fix (Y/N)’s hair, almost motherly in his actions. He makes sure (Y/N) is presentable, makes sure he doesn’t have to worry because; “Su-Su will fix it~”.

Shoko makes sure (Y/N) is always wound-free. From buying antiseptics to burn relief gels (they all have a travel-sized bottle on their person to be fair). She buys him cigarettes when he needs them and always pokes him in his sides or the back of his head, she made it a habit to use RCT on him just in case he’s in pain but can’t feel it.

"You'd come back to me"

"What if Nanami Kento and (Y/N) survived the Shibuya arc?"

Kento stroked your bangs away and then pressed kisses with every compliment he gave. Your chuckles give him this feeling that if you ever told him "please" he'd give up everything just to hear it again. Kento lightly pushes you away but slips a hand underneath you, tugging his (Y/N) closer. “Kennnnnny."

Usually, Kento doesn’t enjoy nicknames but every time you say it, the world seems bright and sweet. So he noses at your jaw and relishes in the giggles.

“You’re beautiful,” he says with so much sincerity.

“You’re not too bad yourself.” Kento grins and presses a searing kiss to your lips.

You are both covered in scars. Nanami’s still pinkish and healing even with the help of socerery and yours still aching and bruised. But nothing about you could be wrong. Because that wasn’t possible. The ring on your hand is cool on his neck as you tilt his head to deepen the kiss. Kento turns and chuckles as you yelp, straddling him now.

“Kento!”

“Yes, my (Y/N)?”

Your eyes soften, and he kisses you again.

"The beach will be more cloudy. We can sit on the porch and I'll make you that milky tea again." He thinks it's a shame the two of you are stuck inside the house. It cannot be helped; his skin was far too sensitive for Malaysia's unapologetic sunny rays and dry heat and although you comfort him by saying your scars are still healing too, he wants nothing more than to pick you up and wash away all the remnants of Shibuya in seawater. "I can make it," he says. "Kento," you press your finger onto his lips, tracing it until you're cupping his face and stroking over his cheekbones. "Let me take care of you." Kento frowns and places his hand over yours, tracing the shape of your healing knuckles and raised scars. "Only if you'll let me do the same, my (Y/N)."

Kento who survived the Shibuya arc is left with a very sensitive wound all over the left side of his body. His hearing is unbalanced and his depth perception is fucked but (Y/N) helps him through all the transitions he goes through.

(Y/N) feels guilty for using his curse technique when it’d been fire that hurt Kento. Who doesn’t use it around Kento or if he does use it, he makes sure the smell is gone and washes his hands, and makes sure Kento can hold him without fear. But Kento doesn’t fear him! Kento figured it out and he just tells (Y/N); “My love, you never need to hide yourself from me…”

Yuji helps Kento with physical therapy. Kento grunts but allows Yuji to hug him when he regains consciousness. Kento who asks Yuji if he’d like to be his ringbearer during their wedding.

(Y/N) who is so nervous to meet Kento’s parents. He knows non-sorcerers and sorcerers don’t have many differences in their daily lives outside of exorcising curses but worries nonetheless. Kento’s mom is bright and jovial, and his father is even more so! (Y/N) is honestly taken aback by how soft-hearted they are and how they thank him for saving Kento. He finds himself loving them so much because they remind him of his mother and how gentle and kind she was.

When he asks for their blessing? He bows but is surprised when Kento’s father blocks his forehead from meeting the floor, blinking away tears when his mother holds his face.

“We’ll gladly take you in as your son, (Y/N),” and they all start crying because (Y/N) is crying, LMAO.

Kento tells (Y/N) he asked for his parent's blessing and he's confused because Kento should never do that - he doesn’t need to ask his father for his blessing but Kento simply says:

“I visited your mom’s grave. I asked for her blessing. I talked to her about how much I love you.”

At their wedding, there are empty seats in the crowd. Seats for their fallen comrades, their loved ones, seats for Tsumiki, Principal Yaga, Yū, Satoru, Suguru, (Y/N)'s mom… (blame Elias for this one)

In regards to (Y/N) seeing Geto Suguru's "body" as he descended into madness: Kento who spots him muttering to himself or staring into space. (Y/N), who after surviving the Shibuya arc, still sees Suguru and now Satoru as well. At times, he even sees Yū, Kento, Megumi, Tsumiki, Yuji, Nobara, Maki, or -His brain constantly makes it hard for him to decipher reality or fiction.

A HC based on Katniss and Peeta: (Y/N) asking Kento, “Real or not real?” when he can't tell reality from fiction.

“You’re alive, real or not real?” “Real.”

“Megumi is still breathing. Real or not real?” “Real, my love. He’s just healing. He’ll wake up soon.”

"...You love me, real or not real?" "Real, my love."

When Fushiguro Megumi wakes up:

When Megumi recovers he cries. Openly cries, sobs, and wails as he begs for forgiveness from everyone around him. (Y/N) literally rushed into the room which made Megumi flinch, yelling at him to stay away because he killed his father (Satoru), his sister, and everyone else Ryomen Sukuna had killed. But (Y/N) just holds him and holds him and holds him. Megumi finds it hard to piece his brain together after what Sukuna has done so Yuji helps. Yuji asks Kento for advice because Megumi and (Y/N) are lowkey in the same boat-ish.

Megumi who begs for forgiveness because Sukuna had done unspeakable things to (Y/N) just to make him his concubine and (Y/N) just comforts his son.

When Megumi is strong enough they go to Suguru and Satoru’s graves. There are no bodies but they buried the things that they treasured. Their wedding ring rests where Satoru would have along with Megumi and Tsumiki’s childhood drawings, pictures, and Suguru’s hairband and button. The flip phone was full of memories and high school photographs - his wedding picture too. He rests beside Geto Suguru, whose grave is filled with his daughter's belongings and the flip phone he kept too, the creased photograph of himself with Satoru, (Y/N) and Shoko. Tsumiki, Nanko and Mimiko are next to their fathers. Megumi cries as his knees give out, his only family left, his dad; (Y/N), just comforts him as much as he can. His precious boy, his beautiful son... They visit as often as they can, telling tales of their days, their weeks, and their months. Soon enough, it will be less painful for them to visit that hill. It'll be scenic and they'll no longer curse at the heavens for all this loss. They'll hate that they're no longer the same person their loved ones had seen, hate the wrinkles and the greying hair and the way they couldn't grow old together. Hate that they've been alive longer than them when they feel like they don't deserve to be. But one day it'll stop and they'll take it as a blessing to grow this old, knowing they'll see their family soon enough with so many stories to tell.

"And isn't it just so pretty to think? All along there was some invisible string, tying to you me?"

"You know - in every universe, Satoru falls in love with Suguru and (Y/N). In a few universes, their love is not tragic. In this special few, Satoru does not use (Y/N) for honor. Suguru comes back after his betrayal,l and (Y/N) and Kento defend his rights as a human. Satoru has (Y/N) help him with Suguru’s rehabilitation, and Kento helps Suguru with his clashing ideology. In the special few, Megumi is still beloved by YN but he doesn’t fear betrayal, and love just needs love to be perfect. Uncle (Y/N) cherishes Tsumiki and Megumi and Uncle Kento who teaches them how to be kind and responsible. Mimiko and Nanako learn how to befriend Tsumiki and Megumi!”

(Y/N) would've become a teacher like Satoru! Kento sends him to and from. He pouted so much when Kento knew Yuji was alive but forgave him. (Y/N) invited Yuji to eat homemade lunch and dinners in their home, and Yuji pretended not to feel himself tremble; a homemade meal was eaten around a dining table.

Yuji, who never had such an experience before; and who craves familial bonds; can’t stop shoveling food in his mouth because he keeps grinning too hard -

And when Junpei is brought back alive? (Y/N) takes to him like a moth to a flame. He volunteers to help Junpei, to house him, and bares his teeth at the higher-ups who dare take the boy from him.

Junpei wakes up to Kento cooking breakfast and (Y/N) who makes tea. Junpei gasps as (Y/N) opens up a movie and invites him to watch with him. Junpei relishes Kento’s words of advice for his newfound curse technique.

Junpei cries into the pillows and gets surprised when (Y/N) comforts him, telling him he misses his mother too, and lets (Y/N) hug him.

Junpei stares at himself in the mirror when Shoko heals his cigarette scars, brushing back his bangs confidently for the first time.

Junpei who bonds with Megumi about having shikigamis! Who Nobara (affectionately) bullies and toughens up! Maki is reminded of Yuta every time, and Inumaki chuckles at her face. Panda just loves being his senpai but keeps pushing Junpei away from him when Junpei tries to touch his fur -

Satoru and Suguru come over with Mimiko, Nanako, Tsumiki, and Megumi to their home. Yuji and Junpei picked out the movie (it’s obviously Human Earthworm - all 4 movies). The Gojo-Geto’s brought snacks and drinks, and the Nanami’s made their home so cozy and warm.

"Tell me you belong to me"

Heian Era Sukuna and the ancestor of the (L/N) clan, his only male concubine which he adored so much it caused his unending.

As a foreword (just a fan theory I adored not canon at all): "The theory that Sukuna keeps CTs within his Malovent Shrine (hence, in my fic, it’s why the (L/N) clan never flourished. Sukuna took their innate technique and left them with a CT so strong none of them had enough will-power to master). It’s not confirmed but in the Jogo fight, he says “open” and all of a sudden he can use a flame CT???" "This is basically an AU of (Y/N)'s ancestor, lmao."

They sacrificed (Y/N) to Ryomen Sukuna and gave him their prince who came to him with a sharp glare and dirtied with bruises and cuts.

“You wrap my gift so carelessly?” Sukuna drawls out.

(Y/N) is bound and gagged. His hair must have been in an impressed top knot, now a mess that spills from his shoulders.

Uruame shifts next to him and they grip (Y/N)'s cheeks to inspect him.

What a beautiful man, they think with mild surprise, it was no wonder he was chosen as a sacrifice.

But, Sukuna wants him. So, he adds his first male concubine to his harem. (Y/N) is scrubbed clean, dressed to the nines, and made to look like a doll. His face was painted, his hair brushed, his nails trimmed, and his skin moisturized.

Ryomen Sukuna is a monster with a picky tongue. Despite his greed, he only eats refined meats and fights the strongest sorcerers.

Sukuna doesn’t “love” his concubine but he favors him. That much, (Y/N) can tell. When he plays the biwa or recites sutras and haikus, Sukuna is ever so attentive. When (Y/N) bows and sits next to Lord Sukuna to feed him his meals, he finds those big hands holding him in one way or another.

When he takes (Y/N) as a “woman”, he is not gentle. Uruame is the one to prepare him. They provided him with oils and aromatic smoke to ease him, not out of the kindness of their hearts but for their Lord’s pleasure. (Y/N) swears he nearly rips taking his size but Sukuna spreads his legs and pushes in deeper and (Y/N) gasps, his tears like diamonds as he pleads for his Lord to grant him mercy.

Sukuna does. It surprises himself. But he does.

Maybe Sukuna will never understand the word love because he tells himself he’s never loved. Or maybe, he confuses it with ownership and cruelty - because it’s obvious he loves (Y/N).

He’s unfair to all but him.

He is still the King of Curses, a cruel tyrant, but (Y/N) is someone who calms his wrath with ease.

When they made that Binding Vow for (Y/N)'s curse technique to be given to Sukuna in exchange for Sukuna not being able to kill off his clan. He had thought to give YN another curse technique. But then, after (Y/N) learns Sukuna murdered a huge chunk of his clan, (Y/N) plans for his betrayal.

(Y/N) seeing the shock on Sukuna’s face as he gets sealed away, feeling the God's disdain weigh on his bones as he breaks the Binding Vow - he weeps for Sukuna despite knowing how horrible he is.

(Y/N) marries and his bloodline continues on, but there’s this terrible desire to be loved. It persists in every one of them. This ache that the King of Curses had left. This magnetism that power holds over the (L/N) clan.

In another universe, where (Y/N) finds no love in Satoru nor Kento, but Sukuna?

How delighted would the King of Curses be to see his concubine so willing for him? The King of Curses would have a harem of women. But the one man? Oh, he’s beloved. His room is closest to Sukuna’s, his appetite always filled and his bookshelves overflowing. Uruame enjoys his presence, tending to him personally and making him food as well.

(Y/N) who takes a liking to human flesh. Who finds himself ignoring the screams of tortured men and women, and only curls his nose in distaste when Sukuna wants to consume “soft” flesh.

Who grins so serenely in his King’s lap, who can’t decide which mouth he prefers on him or which hand is his favourite. Sukuna loves to be fed by (Y/N) and does the same to him.

Who learns how to please Sukuna’s cocks all by himself. Who has servants prep him open only to be killed right after - but what a privilege they had, to have Sukuna’s concubine mewl around their fingers.

Sukuna loves watching him ride, loves seeing the bulge in his stomach, the twinge of pain on his face. He loves sticking his tongue out (the one on his stomach) to lick at (Y/N)’s cock and (Y/N) yelps every time.

At times, you’ll find his precious concubine so stunning after a night of pleasure you’d stare. Each time, Uruame is there to gauge their eyes out.

Their master's toy is his alone after all.

"What must it be like to grow up that beautiful? With your hair falling into place like dominoes"

polycule of satosugu x yn!

Satoru thinks he’s selfish. He knows that marrying (Y/N) fulfills duty and honour but in doing so it would be cruel for the boy. On the other hand, marrying Suguru was completely out of the realm of possibilities no matter how hard he insists.

His personal feelings about them both confuse him too.

Satoru loves Suguru. Satoru loves (Y/N).

You could imagine the relief 16-year-old Gojo Satoru felt when (Y/N) blushed at Suguru’s soft-spoken voice or when Suguru caught himself staring at (Y/N)’s lips for too long in a conversation.

In this AU - Satoru never dated Suguru, he instead gathered the two of you and just announced his feelings.

It was choppy waters to navigate through, among the political aspects of a marriage and teenage emotions and deadly missions.

But the three of you made it work. This relationship was among three men who fulfilled honour, duty, and love. Who only needed each other to feel filled.

A polyamorous marriage wasn’t taboo, it was just outdated, still with Gojo Satoru and Gojo (Y/N) both insisting that Geto Suguru would be their husband after Satoru became the head of the Gojo clan. It wasn’t as though they could be refused now.

In this AU, Suguru would not betray his husbands though not without thinking of it. He simply tightened his hold on the rings before he brought the twins back home and his heart softened as he saw them tend to the girls.

What a rowdy household. The children are so loved that they cannot fathom love doesn’t exist.

Satoru who will sigh and embrace his husbands out of the blue.

“You’re beautiful,” he’ll tell (Y/N) as he cups his face while the poor man is simply reading some document at the dining table. “Our husband is beautiful, Suguru!”

Suguru immediately gets drowsy whenever your fingers thread through his hair, and chuckles when you trace his features as he’s about to wake.

Gods, seeing you and Satoru hold onto your children’s hands as all of you walk together in a park makes thoughts of those dark summers dissipate into nothing.

Satoru sleeps in the center of your California king-sized bed. He simply refuses any other spot.

The Tokyo School has its hands full of the Gojo’s. From the husbands to their 3 children with rambunctious abilities.

When Tsumiki got cursed...it was an emotional day for everyone. Suguru swore he’d do anything to break it while Nanako and Mimiko yelled and yelled, Megumi just sobbing into your chest.

The girls visit her often, talking to her as they fix her hair and ensure she’s comfortable. Megumi appreciates their care as he silently stares from the corner.

Oh, breakfasts are always bustling.

The children are spoiled just as much as Satoru’s husbands are.

What a terrifying trio you are - abilities powerful beyond the curve!

Shoko always takes a few shots before heading over to celebrate holiday dinners, lmao.

She understands that you three enjoy asking about her love life though all three of you were made to kneel in apology as she glared after Satoru and you “accidentally” found the woman she’d been seeing.

Suguru rolls his eyes every time Satoru and you stroke the dragon spirit's snout or compliment the spear-wielding spirit.

While they bring burn-relief medication for you, Satoru and you ensure to bring snacks to wash away the foul taste of curses for Suguru and Suguru and you always have extra blindfolds and painkillers for Satoru.

Yuta grew flustered as he found out the three of you were together. He had honestly thought Suguru was cheating on Satoru with you but Maki’s scoff of “disgust” and her brief explanation made his face bloom into fifty shades of red.

Yuji would honestly not care - he’d be surprised at first but bounce back rather quickly (although Ryomen Sukuna would certainly have his comments).

ANGST TIME!

The Shibuya arc would be very different of course, though wouldn’t it just be delightful if Kenjaku managed to grab (Y/N) and force his husband to see Ryomen Sukuna not only take over their son’s body but see their husband get claimed by another?

Delicious angst, me thinks.

"But I just wanna stop right next to you, if I could my dream? I just wanna stop right next to you."

polygamous marriage (?) of Satosugu and kentoYN!

In this AU, (Y/N) and Satoru would feel so guilty for letting their eyes wander to their significant future husbands.

It’s not as though they don’t love each other but there’s this societal norm of monogamy and despite never getting physical with Suguru/Kento the emotional aspect still makes them feel like they’re doing something dirty.

It wasn’t fair to anyone.

Shoko dryly mumbling about polygamy had Satoru and you instantly perking up.

You loved Suguru and Satoru liked Kento - but neither of them wanted to be in a relationship with each other. So this arrangement of Satoru’s boyfriend and (Y/N)’s boyfriend honestly worked. It was confusing at first but it worked.

When Satoru married Suguru and you married Kento, it was a joyous event. A double wedding!

A rowdy household once again, Satoru insisted on living on the same land just with multiple “sections”. Even if this was a polycule, I’d imagine solitude from one another is still appreciated after all. The house was built from the ground up and it was a labour of love to ensure all four of you (and your kids) would have their own slice of heaven.

Kento adores you, the rings on your fingers, and the home you share.

Satoru adores you as well, never once making you feel as though this is a competition.

Both Satoru and you are fair to each other and your respective husbands. Never favouring the other or anything that would make them feel like a “glorified side chick.”

The kids aren’t confused at all.

Although they did have to adjust to call which father what.

They settled with Dad (you), Papa (Suguru), Pa (Kento), and Father (Satoru - only to annoy him.) Sometimes the four of you will have to play it by ear since they just use “daddd!” interchangeably.

Shoko still takes shots before she heads over to go to holiday dinners.

The students are also not confused. Yuta got a bit flustered but Suguru just informed him about it and Yuta felt less anxious - he genuinely thought Satoru was cheating on (Y/N) when he walked in on Satoru and Suguru making out in an empty classroom.

You’d honestly just giggle at Yuta’s face when he told you this which made him more confused while Suguru gave him the mercy to pat his head.

Yuji would think it’d be so cool that such a dynamic worked.

Nanako and Mimiko as Tokyo High students make my heart soar - Megumi has his older sisters tease him relentlessly whenever their schedules overlap (they always do).

#s3thwrit3sstuff #gojo satoru x male reader #geto suguru x male reader #nanami kento x male reader #ryomen sukuna x male reader #jjk x you #jjk x yn #jjk x reader #jjk x male reader #reader insert #male reader #male reader insert #gay reader #male!reader

[astroboots]

period sex with soft marc☹️☹️🥺🥺 him being so sweet n praising you😭😭😭😭 hed take such good care of you<3 i need him

Take Care of Me

CO-WRITTEN WITH @THIRSTWORLDPROBLEMSS

Content: explicit as fuck. Period sex, Marc's competence in overdrive.

Word count: 3k words

ASTROBOOT’S MASTERLIST | THIRSTWORLDPROBLEMS' MASTERLIST |MOON KNIGHT MASTERLIST

Painful is an understatement.

If you had to describe what your period felt like to an alien who had no understanding of human biology this is how you might describe it:

Imagine a battalion of tiny sumo wrestlers duking it out inside your uterus.

Imagine a never-ending game of tag between a horde of stomp-happy elephants using your stomach as the running ground.

Imagine the two allegories combined, but multiple it with three, and imagine having it every month from the time you're a young adolescent until (if you're lucky and god is merciful) it will end when you're in your fifties.

As you lie in your bed, curled up with a hot water bottle tucked to your lower belly, and whine into your pillow, you are convinced that this is some kind of divine punishment. You must have been bathing in virgin's blood to retain youth in a past life. Because you don't know what else you could've done to deserve this. And if you weren't, then if there is a god in heaven, they had better beg for your forgiveness when you get there.

"Want me to make you a cuppa love?"

You drag your face from where it's buried in the pillow to peek up at Steven's worried face.

Big brown eyes gaze down at you with so much concern, he must think you are on your death bed. He's been taking care of you all day. Pampering, coddling, and fussing over you.

He's been refilling your tea before you have time to even empty the cup. Reheating the hot water bottle every twenty minutes before it even has a chance to drop in temperature.

It's incredibly sweet. But you're so tea-ed out at the moment, you think 90% of your body composition is tea at this point.

"'m good."

He frowns, biting down on his lip, and you can sense his worry from bed. "If you don't want tea maybe some hot chocolate? I can even toast some marshmallows on top and I have a packet of biscuits."

You consider his generous proposal for a second or two.

In all honesty, you feel too sick even for chocolate, but you have a feeling that turning down chocolate will truly make Steven think you're dying and try to call the ambulance. So instead you answer, "that sounds lovely Steven."

His whole face brightens up, and he leaps to his feet and darts towards the kitchen.

You close your eyes to the raucous sound of pots and pans being pulled out. In the background, the sound of something crashing clanks out from the direction of the kitchen. It's followed by Steven's familiar comforting voice cursing "bugger" and "oh no," but you're too tired to check for yourself what's going on, as you drift off to sleep.

In your dream, you're wrapped in a comforting warmth. There's a gentle pressure on your stomach and limbs that takes all the pain away. Strong and tender, all at once, you want to linger in this sensation forever.

It's not forever, of course. But your nap lasts long enough that you get a bit of respite from the pain. When you wake again, it's to the distinct smell of burnt sugar lingering in the air.

Strong hands traverse over your hips and stomach, kneading at your sore and aching muscles with a perfect pressure that feels like heaven.

He's sitting at the foot of your bed, with a posture so upright, it's almost militant. The man doesn't need to open his mouth with his Chicagoan accent for you to know it's Marc who's sitting next to you right now.

"Where's Steven?" you ask.

"Put him on a time out. Nearly burnt down the place, trying to torch some marshmallows."

You smile at the image Marc is painting for you. That explains the burnt smell.

"How are you feeling," Marc asks. His hand roams from your stomach to the plane of your thighs. It has everything tingle pleasantly inside of you.

"Better," you tell him. "It feels really good when you do that."

His hand stills for a second, eyes drifting to his own hands. "Want me to keep going?"

You barely have to nod before he starts up again. Large hands covering the insides of your thighs as he presses down with just the right amount of strength.

The sensation spikes across your nerves and rides up your spine until the tense knot in your stomach that has been terrorizing you all day unfurls.

You gasp at the sensation, back arching into his touch for more. "There, there, don't stop."

It's maddening how good it feels. Marc knows your body like a map of a continent that he's explored every corner of. His hand drifts ever so slightly, fine-tuning his touch that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

It's the relief you've been begging for all day. Each press of his hand erasing the blunt ache that's been digging into your flesh since you woke up this morning.

That large hand of his, smooths over your bare stomach. The sweet warmth of it soothing any leftover pain that is still there until he cups over the soft fabric of your underwear and replaces it with an altogether different ache that has you squirming and squeezing your legs together.

His hand stills. "You want me to stop?"

"No!" you shout, louder than you intended or expected.

You clutch at his wrists to keep them on you. You're pretty sure that if Marc stopped touching you, you'd combust and die from frustration on the stop. Pretty sure that whatever the equivalent of blue balls is for ovaries is about to descend upon you.

"No, I just..." you flounder for a minute, not entirely sure what to say. Face warm as you say try to find the words. You don't know why the thought is so mortifying to you.

"I'm on my period." You manage to mutter out.

Marc cocks his head to the side, one eyebrow raised. He looks genuinely puzzled at what you've just told him. "I know...so?"

"It'll make a mess," you tell him, and you don't know how he's so casual about this. God knows your neat-freak of a boyfriend hates a mess. "I don't want to ick you out".

Ick him out? Why do you sound like a kid on the playground talking about cooties?

There's no worry in Marc's eyes as he observes you. None of the big round doe-like eyes of Steven. His eyes are narrowed, honed in on your face.

"Fuck the mess," he says.

There's a simmering heat in his voice as he says it that makes everything between your legs slick and achy as he leans even closer to you. "I want to make you feel better. You okay with that?"

You nod and the tip of his fingers skirts the edge of your panties before slipping inside. Despite your earlier embarrassment at the idea, your breath stutters with anticipation.

You're so fucking wet. Slick and hot, as his thumb presses down and has sharp electricity crackle down your spine. You find yourself spreading your legs wider for him, and Marc is more than happy to take it as an invitation.

Two fingers slide inside you, filling you perfectly, until you realize you feel a slickness trickle down the heel of Marc's hand.

"Fuck, Marc-- wait, it's--" you squeak in alarm as you feel it drip between your legs. "It's gonna get on the bed."

He doesn't stop, fingers continuing its languid pace on your clit, as he keeps stroking it to the pace of his liking. His mouth is on your neck, hot and humid as he murmurs into your skin.

"You really think a little blood is gonna keep me out of that pretty little pussy? Open up for me baby, let me take care of you."

And god...

You do. Of course you do, you'd do anything Marc asks and wants from you when he speaks to you in that tone and register. Your legs spread even further, tilting into his doting touch as he slides his fingers deeper.

Heat simmer all along the length of your spine, brandishing it with pleasure that has you struggling for breath.

His other hand comes to cup your face, while his fingers are still busy circling and gently strumming at your clit. He makes it seem so effortless as he does it.

There's no hesitation in his movements, two fingers bracketing your clit and he gently slides and teases you there that has that all familiar warmth already furling in your lower abdomen. Insistent and never rushed, you feel his fingers everywhere, until he brushes over something devastatingly good that has your vision go white for a brief moment.

"That's it baby, you're alright. So good for me, you don't have to think about anything else. All I need is for you to feel good. Come on my hand," his voice rasps in your ear.

Smooth and calming. Loving and commanding.

You don't stand a chance.

It's all it takes.

You drown in it, your climax claiming your limbs as the sensation streaks down your legs and wraps around your bones. You shake and jolt in his arms but he holds you there to him, not letting you pull away as you squirm away from the overstimulation and makes you ride the high against the palm of his reassuring hand.

He comforts you through it. All gentle caresses and soothing hushes as he presses his soft lips on your forehead.

"That's my good fucking girl."

Through the haze of your bliss, you reach for him. One finger hooking onto his belt to drag him closer.

You're too out of it to fully register what you're doing or properly express what you want. All you know is you want more of him. More of Marc. More of his sturdy firm weight on you. The warmth of his skin pressed against you. Of him, inside you.

"Want my cock baby?"

You nod, and much like before, Marc immediately complies.

He always does. Never does deny you of anything.

One hand comes to the front of his jeans, and you don't have to wait long for him as he pulls himself free of his jeans. Cock hard, and jutting up proudly that has you salivating at the sight of it.

Gripping his cock in one hand, Marc kneels over you, notching the fat tip against your entrance. The moment you feel him, you forget about any shred of hesitation you had just moments earlier about making a mess.

Because right now you don't care if you ruin Steven's sheets and leave a crime scene behind you. Every single thought in your mind has been replaced by the overarching need to have this man inside you.

He leans over, arms bracketing you in as he presses into you, stretching you, inch by perfect, beautiful, fucking, inch that has you seeing stars even in the daylight.

You feel him everywhere, every slow thrust and cant of his hips pressed so deeply into you, you're not sure you can breathe. You cling to every inch of him, legs wrapped around his waist, not wanting to let go but not sure you can take more of him either.

Full, you feel so fucking full.

"Too much?" Marc asks, eyes examining you, making sure you're alright.

You don't know how to answer him. It is a lot. So much, with all of him, every perfect inch of him filling you to capacity. It's too much and yet you want all of it and more. Want more and want him to never stop. So you tell him exactly that.

"No. Don't stop, don't stop," you beg. "Keep fucking me, please."

One big, warm hand settles low on your stomach, before it wanders, brushing teasingly through your folds and oh-so-gently over and around your clit until you think you might scream.

You bite down on your lip, worried that if you actually do scream, he'll stop out of worry. You squeeze your eyes tightly shut, trying to calm yourself but it only makes it all the more intense.

Behind closed eyes, the pleasure surges through your chest, and you can feel every careful and calculated movement that Marc makes as he slowly drags his cock out of you, until only the fat head rests inside you. Then he pushes back inside again, just as slow and it has tears stinging your eyes.

Slow and thorough. Deep and controlled. He's murmuring in your ear the whole time, his voice low and rough.

"Relax for me baby," he tells you, "I'm gonna take care of you like I always do. Fill your pretty pussy with my cock until you feel all better, okay?"

Better doesn't begin to describe it. You feel good. Feel so good you're overripe with pleasure that seems to be bursting along the seam of your skin.

The hand on your stomach, presses and holds you in place as you start to squirm against him to goad his fingers to where you need them.

But even when he complies, giving you what you like he always does, zeroing in on your clit, his caresses stay light and gentle. His thumb barely brushes over you, as he keeps the pace agonizingly slow and soft that have you shivering and shaking in his arms.

The taunting pleasure builds ever so slowly in your core. The light and teasing touches too much and not enough all at once, and your oversensitive, overwrought cunt clenches and flex endlessly, squeezing down around the thickness Marc’s cock.

You can feel his body jerk over yours each time, and you revel in the soft grunts and gasps you’re driving from him, because surely, surely now he’ll let go and fuck you fast and hard until you're crying.

But he still doesn’t. Doesn't lose control. Just presses gentle kisses to your shoulder, murmuring over and over again. "It’s okay, I got you, Going to make you feel so good".

He says it like a promise. As if he isn't already doing exactly that. He's making you feel so fucking good. So good that you can hardly stand it. So good that you're writhing in his arms, clutching and clawing at his arm and hand and wrist, not sure if you're trying to push him away or pull him closer. But it doesn't matter, he might as well be a stone statue for all the hope you have of moving him anywhere he doesn't want to you be yet.

You can feel the all too familiar tension in his body. Those strong thick thighs as hard as iron between yours. You swear you can feel the furious pounding of his heart where you're pressed back against his chest. Or maybe that's your own pulse pounding loud and frantic in your ears, but it doesn't matter, because you know he's close too.

"Fuck you feel so good," he murmurs into your skin and if you didn't know better you'd think he sounded shaky.

The pleasure builds, streaking up your torso in little lightning bolt pulses that tighten your nipples to achingly hard little points and steal the breath from your lungs.

The heat of Marc's body against you is unbearable, his hot breath and lips sliding over your shoulder, your neck, the curve of your jaw, and all the while, his fingers, those clever, competent fingers keep up their slow, ruinous circling, driving you higher inch by devastating inch.

You can't breathe anymore, can't see, can't think to the point you're pretty sure you can't feel your feet. Do you even have feet anymore? The only thing that's grounding you is the security of Marc's arms wrapped around you, the quiet cadence of his voice, whispering low and soft and still oh so sweet in your ear.

It's too much. Everything in you winding higher and tighter, filling you so full of pleasure that you swear you'll burst, but somehow still you don't. Can't. You need–

You clutch at Marc, gasp out a garbled sound that might be his name. You want to tell him that you can't stand it, that you need more, need all of him, everything that he has to give, but you've lost the ability to speak.

Instead, your body tells him for you, your cunt squeezing down around him, and refusing to let go. All of you drawn tight, tighter, tightest.

There's a breathless, "Oh. Baby. Fuck." in your ear, and Marc's hips jerk against you. Just once, the tiniest upward hitch. But it's enough. It's more than enough.

The unbearable, blissful tension holding your body hostage shatters, and wave after wave of unparalleled rapture roll though you, sharp and sweet and endless. The breath you didn't think you had left leaves you in a loud keening cry, that's echoed by a low, pained groan, and you can feel Marc's cock swell and pulse as he spills inside you, unable to resist the calling of your body's climax.

You ride out your orgasms together, your hips grinding needily into his, his fingers gripped harshly into your flesh, until the seemingly endless pleasure finally releases you both from its grip and you collapse back against Marc's solid bulk.

The arms around you relax, his clean hand smoothing over your belly and thighs. His voice hoarse and low, but still so, so syrupy sweet and gentle as he reassures you that you're okay, that he's got you, that he'll always be there when you need him.

You're boneless against him. Arms lying limply by your side on the damp mattress. Every bit of tension wrung out of you, like an old flannel that been wetted and twisted dry one too may times; worn out, but warm and cozy and relaxed.

"Feeling any better?" Marc asks eventually, arms tightening ever-so-subtly around you.

You don't have it in you to answer him with words, but you manage a small, contented giggle, snuggling back further into his embrace and tilting your head back to nuzzle his jaw.

That seems to be enough for him. He cranes his neck to press a soft kiss to your lips, then settles back, and the two of you stay there, cuddled together, warm and content and sated.

Content... just so fucking content, except...

Content is an understatement to what you're feeling wrapped in Marc's arms like this.

If you had to describe what your period felt like to an alien who had no understanding of human emotions this is how you might describe it:

Imagine snow falling outside and you are wrapped up safely in a heavy blanket around your tired limbs.

Imagine the smell of freshly made pancakes and coffee brewing (just the way you like it) in the morning after a hangover.

Imagine all of that combined and it still wouldn't even begin to do it any justice.

A/N: Thank you nonny for this ask, literally when you sent it I was having the period from actual hell and was in tears and wailing and crying in bed. This was a really nice escape to write this oneshot with TWP.

#oscar isaac #moon knight #marvel mcu #marc spector x you #marc spector x reader #moon knight fanfiction #moon knight fic #moon knight fanfic #marc spector #moon knight x reader #moon knight x you

[denpa-dere]

house arrest 4

afab!mc x asmo description: NSFW, you are confined to your room for your own protection. But how long will that last when the only thing standing between you and your housemates is a door and some willpower? Asmo knows you need a break.

warnings: breeding kink with talk scents/scenting, afab reader with she/her pronouns. dubcon warning!!! This one turned out sounding kind of sketch in places, but actions depicted are intended to be consensual. spoilers: aphrodisiac used.

|| Intro || Mammon || Asmo (mini) || Levi || Satan (mini) || Beel || Lucifer (mini) || Asmo || Belphie (mini) || Belphie || Barbatos (mini) ||

Asmo:

Asmo: I heard what happened. 

Asmo: If you need a little something for those love bites, come see me. It's incredible what Devildom cosmetics can do. 

Asmo:

You puffed a little laugh watching the messages roll in. Leave it to Asmo to be so sweet under such ridiculous circumstances. 

Turning your phone face down on the pillow beside you, you folded your hands over your chest, staring up at the ceiling and taking inventory of the situation at hand. In the motion, your hands briefly brushed against a stray bite mark, sending a jolt of pleasure-pain throughout your body.

You had, by your estimation, about three more days under the microscope. The halfway point had snuck up on you amidst a flurry of seemingly nonstop activity. Until now, you hadn't had a chance to breathe, let alone strategize. 

Responding to those messages meant walking straight into a trap, of that much you could be certain. Truthfully, his distance thus far had surprised you. Asmo was something of a dark horse; an unpredictability bubbled just under his surface. Surrounded by his sin, comfortable and in his element, there was no way of knowing how his behavior would manifest. 

Well, there was one way. 

___

“Aww, muffin! You came!” Asmo cheered, swinging the door open before you could even knock. He flung his arms around your neck and pulled you into a tight hug. 

He paused to take a good look at you, lightly chiding: “You're a mess, you poor thing! Come on, let's get you fixed up.”

Linking his arm in yours, Asmo led you inside where he left you waiting at the edge of his bed while he broke away to dig through a readily prepared stash of bottles and assorted sundries.

“Brutes, all of them,” He clucked his tongue, “You’ll have to tell me all about it, obviously.”

You laughed, settling back amongst the pillows, “They’re not so bad. They’re trying.”

“Please. You coddle them,” The demon teased, rolling his eyes at you, “Meanwhile, you look like a chew toy.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“No need to worry, Asmo-chan is here!” He sing-songed, joining you on the bed with an armful of products, “And I’ve got just the thing- I brought my most powerful arsenal.”

This seemed… normal? Too normal, you thought. Asmo chattered on happily, laying out his choices one-by-one and explaining the benefits of each. All else aside, it felt like any other spa day. Perhaps you shouldn’t have been surprised that The Avatar of Lust remained unfazed in the face of something that may very well be considered a mundane part of his domain. After all, Asmo had been the one to keep a cool head back when…

“Sounds good?” He chirped, holding up a jar in the shape of a deep purple crystal, eyes glittering with excitement.

“S-sure!” You nodded, hoping your eagerness covered up the fact you had entirely zoned out during his presentation.

“Yay~” He unscrewed the lid, “Then we can start with ones on your neck.”

You tried to relax, craning your head to one side. Asmo gathered some of the lightly-scented balm between his fingers and you sighed when he softly traced the sensitive marks.

“This stuff works quickly,” He assured you, extending the motion down to your collarbone, “I didn’t think Beel would be so bitey. On second thought, I guess it does make sense…”

With a practiced familiarity, you reached to pull your shirt overhead, “I think he got me on my back, too.”

“Ooh, lemme see!”

You rolled onto your stomach and buried your face into one of about a thousand silk pillows. Asmo gasped. Chuckling to himself, he wasted no time getting to work on your shoulders, and although you jumped at his touch at first, you soon found yourself sinking into its warmth.

You were feeling pretty warm. 

“They're fading already,” Asmo said, sounding impressed with himself. He positioned himself over you, straddling your hips for purchase, ministrations straying closer to a massage than a cosmetic treatment. 

“Is that why I'm so warm?” You asked, groaning in appreciation as he helpfully teased out a knot between your shoulder blades. 

“That's probably the magdalena extract,” He giggled, breath tickling  the shell of your ear, “Like I said, this stuff works fast.”

You rolled the name over in your mind, trying to remember where you had heard it before. A fog was encroaching on your thoughts, swaddling your head in a thick haze reminiscent of being wine-drunk. 

“Do you like it?” The fifth-born's voice stayed soft and playful as his hands glided down the small of your back. You set your remaining thoughts aside and sighed again, feeling yourself become putty in his hands. 

“Good,” He cooed, nuzzling your neck and nipping gently at your ear, “Then, do you want to turn over so I can get the rest of you?”

You hummed in agreement, turning underneath him when he rose up on his knees enough for you to move. Once situated on your back, Asmo lowered down to sit on you, again; his lithe frame light enough to not cause any discomfort, but heavy enough to keep you in place. You studied him through lowered lashes– he truly was beautiful.

“Ah, there you are,” He said as if seeing you for the first time. He tucked a lock of hair behind your ear, tangerine gaze raking over your flushed body.

Magdalena extract. 

The name continued to echo somewhere in the back of your mind. 

Asmo collected a generous amount of the salve, warming it between his hands before tenderly cupping your abused chest. His tongue poked out cutely between his lips in concentration, perfectly manicured fingers trailing feather-light over fading teeth imprints and rapidly stiffening nipple peaks. 

It's an aphrodisiac. An alarm bell sounded somewhere in the distance. You were too far away to pay it any attention. 

“I swear, these boys have no idea how it's done,” He murmured, more to himself than to you, and leaned in to take one of your nipples into his mouth. He lapped around the sensitive bud, sending you reeling. Your eyes rolled back as your body exploded in sensation, arching off the mattress. 

What the fuck was that? You wouldn't have time to think too hard about it. 

“Shh,” He lovingly shushed you, stuffing two fingers in your mouth, “You don't want to get us caught, do you~?”

You whimpered around the digits’ probing–  even their intrusion was starting to feel good. Asmo turned his attention back to your body. He trailed his free hand down your side, tracing the hem of your waistband. 

“Can I?” He looked up at you with a hopeful smile. You nodded, eager to shed the remaining clothes covering your feverish skin. Asmo removed his fingers from your mouth to help shimmy you out of your bottoms. 

“You know,” The demon said, parting your legs to sit between them, “Your scent has been driving me crazy for almost a week now.” He pouted, “It's pretty rude.”

Goosebumps cropped up along your thighs, following the path of his hands applying more healing balm. You lifted your hips for him, allowing space for him to slip his hands under your ass.

“Besides, everyone's been paying attention to you,” Asmo huffed, kissing each of your hip bones. Your eyes watered. “That doesn't seem fair.”

“ -‘m sorry,” You managed to whine, rolling your hips against your will. You ached for more. 

He giggled again, placing a few more kisses along your stomach, “Aww, that's okay. We'll have plenty of time for you to give me attention. Lucifer thinks I left the house hours ago.”

The words hardly registered. Asmo offered you two of his fingers again, which you readily accepted into your mouth. You twisted your tongue around them and sucked, and he looked at you like you hung the stars. 

He was right. There was plenty of time 

to be spent lavishing one another with affection– and what more perfect place to start, he thought, than playing with your adorable puffy clit until you cried that you loved him. 

You had all night, after all. 

#obey me smut #obey me fanfic #obey me x reader #asmo x reader #asmodeus x reader #x reader

[couldyouimagine-that]

I gotcha

Genre; Hurt/Comfort, the Fluffiest Fluff

Word Count; 1.0k

Warnings; Nothing I can think of, just reader feeling a bit unsteady and getting hugs and care from Dean.

Pairings; Dean Winchester x Reader

It's me, I'm alive! I've finally started watching Supernatural and I just. Love Dean so much. So, have some fluff and comfort!

Masterlist

You leaned back against a heavy oak table, a warm mug slowly cooling to your side. You felt a little unsteady within your mind, an uncomfortable feeling having settled in your stomach. There was no particular reason for it so far as you could tell. Nothing had happened, nothing was wrong (the latest world-ending crisis notwithstanding). You had been trying to talk yourself out of it for a while by this point, to explain away the feeling through rationalisation, but none of it was working. The length of time you had been hovering around the table was evidence enough of that.

With a sigh, you drummed your fingertips against the tabletop then pushed yourself to standing. You took a few steps to take a pointless glance out of the nearest window then turned to eye your mug. Finally, you decided you would have to do something other than just keep standing there. Maybe getting out of your head would be the best thing for you, you thought humourlessly. It was at that exact moment that a sudden flurry of activity arrived at the door. Dean and Sam bundled inside, one slamming the door shut whilst the other knocked into a table. Such an exaggerated groan of pain issued forth that you couldn’t help but smirk in spite of yourself.

The door from the hallway to the kitchen swung open as Sam made a beeline for the fridge. Dean followed, dropping a heavy duffle bag to the floor with a thud and swiping a beer from his brother’s hand as he straightened, completely unsuspecting. Dean flashed him a grin as he began complaining, hands spread in a gesture of come on.

“Sorry, Sammy. Too slow.” He appeared at the doorway to the room you had been deliberating in for you didn’t even know how long, his other hand poised to twist the cap off the beer bottle. “Hey, sweetheart,” Dean murmured, smile bleeding into his rich voice. Sam raised a hand in greeting behind his brother’s head, then announced he was heading off to watch the television.

“Hey, Dean.”

You felt a content warmth in your stomach at the sight of him, no matter how long you’d known each other. You walked straight over and slotted yourself beneath his outstretched arm, looping your arms around his waist and pressing your face to his chest. You felt rather than heard the chuckle rumble through him as he pressed his hand to the back of your neck and head, his other arm moving around your waist to hold you close. You raised your head when he pressed a gentle thumb beneath your jaw, leaning down to leave a lingering kiss against your lips.

The entire world seemed to fall away as you stared into his eyes, pressing yourself flat against him to get as close as you possibly could. When you finally looked away, it was to nose along the edge of his open flannel shirt, taking in great lungfuls of his familiar scent. His eyebrows drew a little closer together at your actions, knowing they usually meant something was wrong. Dean put his beer down on the nearest available surface so that he could wrap his arms around you properly. A great feeling of pride bloomed in his chest at the long, content sigh you gave as he pressed his arms against your lower back and over your shoulders. His lips found their way to the top of your head and your eyes closed at the feeling of his breath moving your hair.

Dean, infamous for making himself tough in a way that forbade him from talking about his feelings, understood your every unspoken word clearly. He began to relinquish his tight hold on you, the one he knew made you feel safe and secure, in favour of running his palms along your back. One eventually traced a path across your collarbone and up to the side of your face, gently cupping your cheek to encourage you to look up and meet his soft gaze.

“Anything you wanna tell me about?” It was asked in such a way that there was no pressure, no judgement. If he had thought you were hurt or in danger it would have been a different story, but he could clearly see you weren’t. You shook your head with a small smile and he ran his thumb over your cheekbone, his expression fond if not still slightly tinged with concern. He pushed that away though, for your sake, hoping you would find some strength in seeing his own. Suddenly sporting a wide grin, he reached down to hook his hands around the backs of your thighs and lifted you up, brightened by your own grin as your automatically wound your legs around his hips.

“What are you doing?!” You got out through your laughter, only for him to lightly swat your leg.

“No questions!” He whisper-yelled, but he was laughing too. In retaliation, he grabbed your by your ribs and threw you up over his shoulder, holding you there easily with an arm around your waist. You had no choice but to hang there, his shoulder digging into your stomach until he finally dropped your down onto your back. You found yourself on Dean’s bed where he soon joined you, laying on his back and pulling you towards him. You ended up half draped over him, propping yourself up on an elbow for a moment to give him a gentle kiss. He gave you a boyish grin as you remained there for a moment, before laying down on top of him.

Dean’s hands resumed their gentle tracing over your back, his head leaning against your own. Your incessant worrying had abated entirely, your mind blissfully calm and filled only with Dean. You placed a hand against his ribs, relaxing into the steady rise and fall of his chest, the regular beating of his heart.

“Just stay with me, darlin’,” he murmured, voice low and soft. “I gotcha.”

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester #dean x reader #supernatural #spnfandom #spnfamily #spn fanfic #supernatural reader insert #spn dean #spn Sam #sam winchester

[tender-rosiey]

labor — gojo satoru x f!reader

ᴀ/ɴ: now I wanna write angst sigh

“babe, honey, baby please, Y/N! YOU’RE CRUSHING MY HAND PLEASE!” gojo, world’s strongest jujutsu sorcerer, screams as you clutch his hand tighter and tighter.

you groan, breathing heavily as the stubborn baby is still making his way out of your body, painfully so, “SHUT UP! NO ONE TOLD YOU TO HAVE SEX WITH ME!”

“I AM SORRY, OKAY?!” he replied, hoping to still have a hand intact so he can at least hold his son later on, “BUT YOU ALWAYS LOOK SO HOT AND SEXY!—“

“SATORU YOU FUCKING BITCH!” you yell at the top of your lungs, desperately hoping for this to end.

“sir, I suggest you stop yelling and try to comfort her—“ the nurse urges but the man falls off the chair to his knees because of the strong hold on his hand.

“CAN’T YOU SEE THAT I AM TRYING?!!” he looks up at her and she can clearly see just how painful it is for him and considering how blue his hand is starting to be.

but he has to stuck it up because you are giving birth and you’re the one who deserves the comfort right now.

your tears are staining the pillow below you, “SATORU, IT HURTS SO MUCH!”

“I know, honey; don’t worry—“ he attempts to talk but you raise his hand and slam into the bed again, making him slam his head onto the bed as well.

“WELL THEN DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT!” you throw your head back, “STRONGEST MY ASS! MORE LIKE USELESS!”

gojo fakes a sob, “is this what I get for turning my infinity off?”

while you are inside, his students are outside of the operation room, stuck between laughing at their screaming teacher or to feel bad about you who’s in pain right now.

“Y/N, HONEY PLEASE I WILL GET YOU ANYTHING YOU WANT JUST PLEASE GRIP A LITTLE LIGHTER!” he yells for the hundredth time today and is once again ignored as you’re rather a little busy with something else.

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

after a long while, the hallway is silent, and nothing is coming out of the room.

“who was screaming at the end?” yuuji questions nervously, looking at his other two friends.

megumi blinks and sighs, “either gojo died or y/n passed out.”

“I really hope it’s the first option,” nobara prays as her hand hold each other tightly; the other two follow the motion and nod.

three bottles of water are opened on top of each one of them until they are soaked to the toe and a note falls onto megumi’s lap.

i heard you, so expect harsher training <3 now let me enjoy this moment with my wife and son

— your super cool teacher, gojo satoru

they can hear squealing and the crying of a baby that slowly becomes quieter; the squealing is their teacher, that much they can tell, “y/n, he is so cute! just like you honey,” he coos, pressing a kiss to your forehead and proudly holding his son.

“well I just birthed him, you better fucking like him.”

“love, you are so vulgar,” gojo gasps, “what if our son picks up on that?”

you have no power to do anything but glare at him and he laughs quietly, “okay I am sorry; you were amazing.”

he presses soft kisses on your hand, “thank you so much; I am so proud of you.”

“shut up,” you grumble but softly say, “give him to me.”

“of course,” gojo replies, placing your son in your arms gently and he quietly gasps, “will I get to see you breastfeed him?”

“…doctor, can you get him out of here? like urgently please.”

“at your service, ma’am.”

taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss @pompompurin1028 @scul-pted @dazaisdeathwish @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @shinys-bsd-world-1 @sonder-paradise @ravenina14 @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @bakugossanity @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @luciferspen @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @fiona782 @ginneko @kisakitwister @iamjustasimpxd @psychopotatomeme

copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or i will break your elbows

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo imagine #saturo gojo #satoru gojou #gojo hcs #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jjk gojo #gojo headcanons #gojo x y/n #gojo saturo #jjk x you #jjk oneshot #jjk headcanons #jjk x reader #jjk #jjk fanfic #jjk imagines #jjk fluff #gojo fluff #jujutsu kaisen scenarios #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jujutsu fluff

[crownofgildedlilies]

wishin' you were kind enough to be cruel about it -> cool about it [2]

in which: a son of Jupiter can't remember the life he lost to time and circumstance. or the daughter of mercury he lost, too.

pairing: jason grace x daughter of mercury!roman!reader

warnings: you guessed it! more angst and cursing!

word count: 6.4k

a/n: did not mean for it to be this long but, im obsessed.... no like u don't understand. so much to be said! inbox/comment to be added to the taglist!

one [two] three four

At least you had the comfort of preparing for war to distract you.

Armor polished to perfection, swords sharpened, denarii in your pocket to pay for passage to the Underworld, should you meet your end facing an endless army of monsters that couldn't die.

Really, how Roman of you to seek the blissful nothingness at the start of battle.

You knew the exact number, down to the minute, of how long it had been since you had last seen Jason. But if someone were to ask you how many days Percy, Frank, and Hazel had been off on their quest, you would have stared at them blankly.

And even as you readied for war, your eyes had a glossy look to them, pinned on a fixed point just above the horizon.

"Don't let the legionnaires see you like this," Dakota had murmured in your ear as he adjusted the straps of your armor. You knew he had a point, but hated him for saying it, anyways.

What did it matter? The legionnaires had already seen you in hysterics in the camp center, tearing through the place in search of Jason. They wouldn't be surprised to see you were still not right, even with the promise of military glory.

But it didn’t change the fact that he had a point.

You were a centurion for a reason, and not just because the great Jason Grace followed you like a shadow. You needed to be strong and brave and ruthless, because that was what a Roman leader should be.

And the reason you became a centurion was apparent the moment you stepped onto the battlefield, New Rome at your back and your brothers-in-arms at your side.

See, the giants hadn't taken into account how much anger and fear you had bottled up inside you, uncorked with the first swing of your sword and spilling out over their armies.

Violence untethered, one of the now-retired centurions from the First Cohort had once described the way you fought. Brutal. Efficient. Roman.

And if you had been untethered before, when you still had Jason at your side—

The casualties on the Roman side were few.

You had taken a couple of big hits, but you welcomed the pain. The first actual bite of something other than heartache felt almost like a relief, like a promise that you were not trapped in a body that could only grieve.

The rest of camp may have been rejuvenated by Percy's retrieval of hundreds of Imperial Gold weapons, but all you could do was grit your teeth and limp back into the city.

The cries of 'Praetor!' that echoed after you, announcing Percy as Camp Jupiter's second leader, felt like they were twisting a knife in a wound long infected and left to rot.

Jason was praetor. Jason.

You liked Percy, you really did. He was funny—or at least, you would have thought so, if you weren't constantly looking for the next excuse to leave camp and search for Jason—and kind. He had Roman bravery, if not a little rebellious, which the Mercury in your blood seemed to enjoy.

Percy might have even been your friend, in another life. One when you had met him with your hand tucked in Jason’s, the son of Jupiter the levelheaded side to your double edged sword.

And at least you trusted Percy a whole lot more than Octavian.

"These... Greeks," Octavian hissed the word, lips curling in distaste. The day after the battle, still bruised and wounds leaking blood, you found yourself in the forum, dressed in a toga wrapped over your armor. You still couldn’t put too much weight on your ankle, and the shoulder on your shield arm was swollen. "You're an even bigger fool than I thought if you trust them."

You rolled your eyes, but bit down the dramatic gag. If Jason had been there, he would have been very pointedly ignoring you—because you had been guilty on more than one occasion of making more and more ridiculous faces in an attempt to make him laugh.

And after the third time you had gotten him to break his stony facade, Jason had implemented a 'no looking at you during meetings' rule, which he more or less succeeded in executing.

Or less, being the key words.

"Talking about fools," You murmured, and from beside you, Dakota jammed his elbow into your side so harshly, you almost yelped. In his defense, you hadn’t told him about the Cyclops that had probably broken your ribs, but you wished he hadn't hit you where you were so sore.

"Look, they're my friends up there." Percy gestured widely towards the open air roof as he spoke. You found yourself studying the skies, as if the flying Greek trireme Percy claimed would be arriving might suddenly appear out of thin air. "I trust them, and you voted me praetor. Doesn't that count for something?"

"It's something, alright." Octavian scoffed. You rolled your eyes again, almost growing dizzy with the movement.

A bad habit during meetings, Centurion, Jason had chastised you, once, with a smile so warm it didn't feel like a punishment. The two of you had just left the forum, still wrapped in your togas, your hand curled around his forearm as he led you through New Rome and towards a bakery you favored.

Wouldn't happen if you let me challenge Octavian to combat, Praetor, you had fired back, and in a moment of weakness, pressed a kiss to the underside of his jaw before darting off ahead of him, giddy.

Soldiers, not lovers, you had to remind yourself. No matter how much you wanted, you couldn't force Jason to be anything he wasn't ready to be—or maybe what he just wasn't.

Octavian's watery stare landed on you, snapping you back to the moment like a rubber band pulled taut.

"I can hardly imagine you support this, Centurion? With Jason Grace gone—"

"Do not," You snapped, breath coming out in short, labored spurts. Violence untethered, indeed. "Neither I nor you get to decide who is praetor, and the spot was open—"

Your voice cracked. It tasted like a lie. The spot wasn't open. It belonged to Jason, just as your heart and tears and smiles did.

"—and Percy Jackson was raised to the rank after receiving glory in battle." You recited. You hoped it didn't sound like you had practiced in the bathroom mirror that morning, trying to make it seem like you believed it, even if you had. "I seem to recall a certain Apollo legacy cowering beneath my shield during the second Cyclops onslaught, don't you, Augur?"

And maybe it was a low blow, calling a Roman's battle bravery into question, but Jason had always been your bridge to your self-control.

"I—no—it—!" Octavian stammered, flustered, and Percy laughed. Dakota and several of the other centurions Octavian hadn't managed to blackmail or brainwash to follow him pressed their palms over their mouths to suppress their own chuckles, and even Reyna was struggling to bite back a grin. "You think you'll still hold rank as centurion, come the next election?"

He was threatening you, you realized, and you would have hauled off and socked him in the mouth, consequences be damned, if a shadow hadn't crossed over Octavian's head, darkening the whole of the forum.

Twisting your gaze up, heart hammering, you found a flying Greek trireme.

Percy was right.

And maybe he had been right about something else, too. Something you hadn’t dared to consider.

While Percy was dropped at Camp Jupiter, Jason might have been carted off to Camp Half-Blood.

Mercury swiftness blessed you once more as you took off, darting out of the forum before Reyna could finish saying dismissed.

There wasn’t much that could have stopped you, not even the bitter cold of crashing through the middle of a Lar.

You didn’t even bother pausing to shout an apology to Cassius, glowing purple and claiming to curse your bloodline for such an insult.

If you have been able to breathe, you would have told him your bloodline already felt a little cursed.

There was shouting, but you barely could hear it over the buzzing in your mind. You felt like you were going to vibrate out of your skin, eyes squinted, head tilted up, and fighting against the sun for even a glimpse of your missing half.

“Helmet on, fall in line,” Dakota tugged your arm, pulling you back to his side. You felt a little, a lot, frantic—felt desperate—but Reyna was already struggling to get everyone to fall in line, and she had given you so much leeway in the past months, that you stepped beside your fellow Fifth Cohort centurion.

“I left my—“ Left my helmet behind, you would have said, but Dakota shoved the metal piece into your hands. With buzzing fingertips, you placed on your helmet, adjusted the straps of your armor that were already perfectly done up.

Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. Seconds ticked by like hours, limbs swimming through thick air like you were in a dream. From your spot nestled between Dakota and Paulette from Fourth Cohort, tucked under the hull of the flying trireme, standing behind Percy and Reyna, you couldn't see any of the ship's occupants.

But then they dropped a rope ladder, and your heart stuttered in your chest. Nails bit into your palms, your own fingers the culprit, and you forced yourself to stretch out your hands in an attempt to keep the bleeding to a minimum.

Jason, please, Jason, I need you, oh, gods, please—

It was like a mantra, repeating on a loop in your head. Tears stung at your eyes, overwhelmed by just the sheer possibility that your golden haired love could be so, so close to returning to you.

The first body began to climb down the ladder. A girl, with yellow hair dragged into a ponytail. In front of you, somehow, you heard Percy inhale sharply and you realized it must have been Annabeth.

The only person he remembered from his past life, until he had drank the gorgon's blood and gotten his memories restored. Unease trickled through you. There wouldn't be such a quick fix for Jason.

A second girl descended the ladder after Annabeth, with choppy brown hair, baggy clothes, and a wicked dagger at her hip.

You started to doubt Percy's theory. Maybe Jason hadn't been taken by Juno or Hera or whichever deity you felt like blaming. Maybe he was stuck somewhere else, alone, and hurting, and you were—

A purple shirt appeared over the side of the ship, atop a set of broad shoulders you could have recognized blind.

Jason.

Your Jason.

Home, to you, at last.

A gasp shuddered through you as he started to climb down the rope ladder and into New Rome. You started to step forward, but Roman training froze you to your spot as Reyna pinned you with a look that screamed 'don't break rank, not in front of Octavian,' which would never be enough to keep you from reaching Jason.

But still, you stalled.

It didn't mean you stopped staring, your eyes tracing his form from head to toe, trying to see what changed about him, what was still the same.

The scar on his lip, the sky blue eyes, the golden rays of his hair. It was exactly as you remembered, except for the hair, which had grown out just slightly. You liked it better, but you would never tell him. You knew how much he liked to keep it short, in regulation.

Look at me, please, you begged him in your mind, because you were forbidden to say the words. Another boy scaled down the rope ladder, but you paid him no attention. Jason, Jason, Jason.

It was dizzying. In all the years you had loved him, never had it felt so much like a compactor was pressing in on your chest.

Their group approached, four rag-tag demigods, three Greeks and a Roman. It sounded like the set-up to one of the awful jokes you used to tell Jason when you were stationed on guard duty together, just to pass the time and see him shake his head with a smile.

Reyna stood tall before you, strong and powerful and part of you wanted to push her to the side and race into the arms of your lost soldier.

Why hadn't he looked at you yet?

This was it, the moment you had been dying for, for months. When Jason finally came back to you, his eyes locking with yours, rules and regulations tossed aside as he wrapped you in his arms so tight your toes left the ground and his mouth slotted over yours, a kiss nearly a decade in the making.

Fear and emotion clogged your throat, and you had trouble swallowing around it. Didn't he see you? He knew you always stood between Dakota and Paulette, just to the right of the second praetor—his rank, formerly, now given to Percy Jackson.

But, there—his blue eyes scanned the row of centurions lined behind Reyna and Percy, starting with the First Cohort and making his way to you. Oh, how you were going to scream and cry and hold him later, all as punishment for making you worry—

Jason's eyes passed over you, carrying on towards Dakota like you were nothing more than another face in the crowd.

Fear and routine and fear of your routine were the only things stopping you from tearing off your helmet and slamming it into his chest, demanding to know who the hell he thought he was, scaring you so thoroughly for months and then acting like he didn’t know you.

But then you remembered Percy, and how he hadn’t been able to remember anything.

That couldn’t be right, no, Jason loved you. And maybe it wasn’t in the way you loved him, but hadn’t Hadlee, the daughter of Venus, gone on and on the other night about different types of love? You knew with a certainty you had never felt before that Jason loved you, even if it was only in the sense of friends.

The way fellow soldiers would die and bleed and get torn to shreds for each other.

You had gotten upset when he asked what else was there for the two of you to be. Now, you would trade every scrap of pleasure and freedom for the chance to be only soldiers with Jason Grace for the rest of time.

You pressed your arm tight against your side, elbow pointed in and poking at the unhealed, unchecked injury from the Cyclops. At first, you had refused to go to the medics because they were still all cheering for Percy to take place at praetor.

Then the pain just became a good enough distraction from losing Jason, even if it didn't really work.

These thoughts and more swirled in your mind as Jason introduced himself and the Greeks he had arrived with. Annabeth, Piper, Leo, Coach Hedge. The names meant nothing to you, but still you memorized them, because they were important to Jason.

He and Annabeth took turns explaining the quest they were on. You only understood half of what they were talking about, because every time someone other than Jason even attempted to speak, their voice was drowned out by the sound of your blood rushing in your ears.

Gaea is rising. Giants trying to wake the earth mother. Need to go to the Ancient Lands to stop them.

You gathered enough to know that whatever was happening was bad. They needed Jason, your Jason, and the fate of the world was more important than the heartbeat pulsing in the tips of your fingers.

Wasn't it?

Miles and miles away, maybe already in the Ancient Lands, you heard Reyna's voice cut through the static.

Let's discuss over a meal, she had said, your stare watching the relief wash over Jason's face. You were certain no one but yourself noticed the minute reaction on his behalf. At least, you had hoped. We reconvene in the city proper for a lunch. Centurions, dismissed.

There it was, that permission you had been waiting for.

Your helmet was torn from your head before Dakota even had time to slouch, shoulders dropping from the stiff way he held them while in formation.

It clattered to the ground beneath you, and you might have even stubbed your toe on it as you stepped forward, desperate for proof that you weren't imagining things. Your soldier was home, gods praise, he was home and within arms reach.

The rank of centurions behind you remained still, anticipating the long awaited and bitterly fought for reunion between two of New Rome's finest, the two soldiers that rarely ever separated, but spent six and a half months apart.

You surged forward. Jason stayed still. You understood what was happening, but you wanted to pretend for a moment longer.

"Hey, soldier," You breathed, voice tight and eyes burning. You clenched your hands into fists, then splayed your fingers wide, stretching, desperate to reach out and touch.

But you were on very uncertain ground. You had to wait for him to make the first move, even if it killed you.

"If the legion weren't here, I'd kick your ass for making me cry." You settled on saying, knowing that he would understand just how much you missed him.

Once, during a particularly violent round of training, Jason had caught the underside of your jaw with the blunt end of his lance. Nothing had broken, which considering Jason's strength, had been both a shock and a blessing, but you hadn't been able to control the tears that sprung to your eyes and raced down your cheeks in pain.

I did this to you, he had lamented, torn between anger at himself and grief for having hurt you. His aching in his words had been nearly enough to get you to resent yourself for feeling pain. I should have been more careful. Next time, I will.

His hands had been cradling your face, turning in it ever so gently to the side to inspect the bruise already forming on your jaw. His touch on your skin had felt like too much, but now you were realizing it had never been enough.

Next time, I'll be faster, you had promised hooking your leg around the back of his and shoving into his chest, sending him sprawling backwards and landing square on his ass in a move that never would have been possible if he hadn't been distracted by your tears at his hand.

You had barely cried then. What would he say, now, learning of the hysterics you had been reduced to?

“Er, do I know you?” Jason asked, stammering, flush coating pale cheeks you could have drawn from memory.

The simple question felt like being dunked in an ice bath, then held under while your lungs filled with water. It had to be some cruel joke, some wicked nightmare you would surely wake from any minute.

Know you? Did Jason Grace know you?

The question was almost unnecessary. Laughable, even. Seven months earlier, if someone had asked that question, you would have cracked a grin. Jason would have been by your side, naturally, and been offended by the insinuation that he didn't.

And then he would have proceeded to list off all of your favorite things, in alphabetical order, organized by category.

The idea was laughable. He knew you. He had to know you.

“Jase?” It was pathetic, really, that that was all you could muster. A breathy, pained whisper of the nickname you’d given him when he was being stubborn about taking care of himself and you poked out your bottom lip to try and convince him to rest.

Most times, it worked.

Now it just hurt.

“Sorry,” He shook his head, darting a glance to the curly haired Latino boy wincing at his side, your stomach dropping to somewhere around Pluto’s palace. “I don’t remember, well, anything, really.”

How foolish had you been? Percy had remembered Annabeth, sure, but Annabeth was his girlfriend. What were you to Jason?

Just another soldier, like he had claimed the day he went missing.

Just another soldier. Only ever soldiers.

And the worst part was he looked genuinely apologetic. You wished he could have scoffed and waved you off, like some prissy, no-good asshole that turned up his nose simply because he was the savior of the world and had earned so much battlefield glory he practically reeked of it.

But that wasn't like Jason. No, not only did the jerk have to be the strongest, most strategic soldier you had ever had the pleasure of fighting alongside, he was also one of the nicest.

Holding open doors, comforting the new, young, arrivals, braiding your hair for you to keep it out of your face that one time the stomach bug had torn its way through the Fifth Cohort. You had spent thirty-six straight hours bent over a toilet, and Jason had been there through all of it.

I don't remember, well, anything, really.

But you had never just been anything to Jason. Sometimes, he looked at you and you could almost convince yourself that you were his everything.

Dakota, of all people, a little hopped up on kool-aid, came to your rescue. Knotting his red-stained fist in the back of your toga, he tugged you back into the line of centurions, using his body to block Jason from your line of sight.

And you would have expressed your thanks, if you had been able to express anything beyond total heartache.

“No one would blame you if you snuck out,” Dakota lowered his voice, ducked his head close to your ear, and that snapped you out of your stupor.

“And leave my legion?” You glared sharply at him, glad for an excuse to funnel out some of your anger, though you felt a little bad that Dakota had been your punching bag the last six months. Really, you owed him. “I don’t think so. I’m fine. Just… shocked. I’m good.”

Dakota winced. Usually, you were ace at lying.

Who tied Octavian’s shoelaces together?

Not me, you’d dutifully shake your head.

Who broke curfew and snuck into the city to retrieve little Julia’s stuffed teddy from Octavian’s sacrifice pile?

I’d never, you’d claim, aghast.

Who’s head over fucking heels, dizzyingly in love with Jason Grace?

Not my type, you’d hold a hand over your heart, scouts honor.

But a simple I’m fine?

Even Frank Zhang couldn’t pretend to not know you were lying through your clenched teeth, and he pretended like he had never found you sobbing outside bunkhouse after curfew one night, a few days following his arrival at camp.

How had Jason forgotten you? It didn’t feel real, but everything felt like too much.

Maybe Dakota had a point. Maybe you needed to get out.

"Come," Reyna ordered, breaking the silent tension that had been building as Greeks and Romans alike stopped to gawk at your conversation with Dakota. "Let's eat."

You picked your helmet up out of the dirt, a dutiful little soldier with lungs full of glass shards.

You were supposed to be strong.

You were supposed to be strong, but you were just a kid.

Ten years old to be exact. Tears stung at your eyes, burned their way up your throat. You could have vomited. You might have already.

You're a thief and a monster, the other kids at school had claimed, words like bullets as they lobbed pencils and crumbled paper and anything they could get away with at you.

A thief, you would admit to being. You couldn't help it, fingers moving almost of their own accord, always finding the easiest target, the shiniest reward. It didn't matter that you always returned everything you took. No one wanted to be friends with the freak that managed to lift the teacher's wedding band off her finger in kindergarten.

A thief, you were.

But a monster? Monsters were the creatures that clawed at your window at night. Monsters were the odd shapes in the grass your mother never managed to see. You weren't a monster. You were ten.

"Hey, we're not supposed to be back here."

The voice of another child cut through your misery, and you sharpened your glare to pin the intruder to his spot. You recognized him, because he was the type of guy that had called you names in school. Tall—for a kid—and built like an athlete. Tan skin, blond hair, blue eyes.

You were pretty sure his name was Jake Greene, or something.

"You're back here," You reasoned, waving a hand littered with scabbed knuckles around for emphasis. Here being the stretch of unwatched grass behind the Mess Hall, a little place you had discovered on your second day and realized it was secluded enough that no one could see you cry.

Now, a week in, you discovered that it was secluded enough that no one could see you cry, but Jake Greene.

He looked around uncomfortably, like he was just then realizing that he, too, was breaking the rules. Slowly, he glanced over his shoulder, as if checking for witnesses, before trodding through the plush grass to sit beside you, legs stretched out in front of him while yours were pulled tight to your chest.

You checked the ground quickly, relieved to find you hadn't actually vomited.

"I'm Jason. Jason Grace." He introduced himself, as if your eyes weren't bloodshot and face blotchy and cheeks wet with tears.

Not Jake. Noted. Now that you thought about it, you didn't think there was a Jake at Camp Jupiter. Not one that you had met, yet, at least.

You nodded, hoping Jason, Jason Grace would get the hint that you wanted absolutely no fucking part of whatever nice guy routine he was putting on. Even if he was one of the few to approach you since you had arrived, bloody and starved, at the camp's borders, Lupa and her pack deciding you worthy.

This one is feisty, you could have sworn the alpha wolf had snarled a grin at the older centurion who found you. Young, but strong willed.

You didn't feel strong willed. You felt like you missed your own home.

You had to remind yourself that your own home hadn't wanted you and your new home was a Roman military camp.

"Your father is Mercury, right?" Jason tried again, this time earning a sharp glare.

It was easier to be angry than it was to be vulnerable, wasn't it? Wasn't that why you always bit the hand that fed you, got sent to the literal fucking wolves at ten years old?

Jason Grace didn't flinch at your hatred. Hatred? That wasn't the right word. You didn't hate anything or anyone but the schools and teachers that had convinced your mother that you were too difficult to deal with, that you needed to be sent away.

Can I come back for Christmas, Mom?, you had naively asked, not understanding why your mother was crying as you rolled to a stop outside a crumbling, wooden house in Sonoma.

A week later, you wondered if your mother was still crying. Or maybe she was enjoying the peace of no longer getting calls from schools or policemen about you.

You wished you could wipe your hands clean of yourself, like Mom had. Maybe you would understand why everyone in your life always seemed happier after they had gotten rid of you.

"It's not so bad here, I promise," He tried, again, and part of you had to congratulate him for not giving up. You would have. "I cried, a lot, when I first got here."

"You?" The exclamation fell past your lips before you could help it, and Jason's own twisted into a victorious grin. He had a scar, on the side of his lips, shining pearly white in the sun, set against his skin.

"Me," He confirmed. Sure, you had just met the guy, had been calling him the wrong name for a week, but he didn't seem like the type to cry. "I did come here when I was two, though."

You didn't know whether to gasp or swat his arm in retaliation, so you did both, finally uncurling from the ball of fear and hatred you had woven yourself into.

"You're really good in training," Jason complimented, taking your childlike assault in stride. You nodded, picking a few blades of grass out of the ground, right at the roots.

"I used to fight in school," You offered, if it was that simple. But punching your bullies was a whole lot different than locking sword and shield.

In the bunkhouse, the boy in the bed across from you was a son of Ceres, the goddess of the harvest. Your first night, in an effort to make you stop crying, rambled on and on about plants. How to properly care for different crops, what too little sunlight did to a flower, and how a tree could be dug up from the ground, roots and all, and planted somewhere else to live a perfectly normal, perfectly long life.

You stared at the blade of grass in your hand, feeling very much like the plant, your roots floating in the middle of nowhere by the hand of some unseen, unforgiving god.

But maybe you could plant your roots, too.

"If I don't make it here," You whispered, little kid voice hoarse. "Then that's it for me. I don't have anywhere else. I'll have to live on the streets. I've done it, once. Made it a whole week before Mom found me."

Part of you regretted the words as soon as they left your lips. What had Lupa shown you about weakness? It got you killed. It got you punished.

But Jason didn't sneer. He pursed his lips in a thin line, scar shining even brighter with the movement.

"I don't know my mom," He confessed, suddenly just as weak as you. Frowning, you tried to figure out why he was saying it. Big, strong—at least to ten year old you—Jason Grace should not have been any kind of weak.

Nodding, you didn’t have anything to say. But you felt the connection build, just two weak children, forgotten by their mothers.

“But I know you,” Jason offered, the admission warming something in your chest involuntarily. And you knew in that moment that maybe you were scared, but you weren’t alone.

At least Jason Grace knew you.

You grinned, then. A far cry from the glares and snarls everyone else you had come across had received. The ones that even he had been victim to, at the start of the conversation.

"Well, Jason Grace," You stuck out your hand, and he clasped your forearm like a good little Roman. "You're never getting rid of me, now."

The smile he gave you in return was a little lopsided, and when he dropped your arm and glanced over his shoulder, you remembered that your not-so secret hiding spot was off limits.

"Just don’t tell anyone we were back here, please.”

If you had thought your mood was bitter before the trireme arrived, it was nothing compared to the sulking, sorrowful mess you currently were.

For starters, you had somehow been shoved and duped into the seat beside Octavian and across from Jason. You didn't really want to see either of them, at all, at the moment.

Secondly, and you may have been reading far too much into things, but the second girl the Greeks arrived with, Piper, was sitting entirely too close to Jason. You wished that you had a good enough reason to not like her, but with your rotten luck, Piper McLean had been an absolute sweetheart despite your best efforts to act like a dickhead.

And it wasn't like Jason had ever actually been yours, ever.

Third. The plate the sprites dropped in front of you was filled with all of Jason's favorite foods. You weren't sure if it was your will or the sprites that made it happen, but you felt like tossing it all away.

Maybe you would dump it in Octavian's lap. It might make you feel better. It certainly was worth a try.

Finally, there was one aching thought echoing inside your mind relentlessly. The last conversation you ever had with your Jason had been an argument. You had walked away from him, a little petulant, entirely unnecessarily. And you had lost your soldier boy.

Because the Jason seated across from you at the Dining Hall in New Rome was not the same one that wrote out your to-do lists for you on neatly lined paper, offering to tag along with you while you checked them off.

He was just Jason, not yours.

And that hurt far more than you cared to admit.

“Centurion, you must be ecstatic,” Octavian crooned, his sickly smirk pinned on you. You felt a whole lot of things, but ecstatic wasn’t one of them.

“How so, Augur?” You huffed, even though you knew it only invited trouble. Across from you, Jason and Piper clearly had one ear on the conversation.

"Well, you have been inconsolable with our dear Jason Grace missing," Octavian said, as if he really cared about you. More heads started turning in your direction, and you found your fingertips inching to do something that would really get you in trouble. "You were a mess, honestly. Looking like—"

"That's enough," Jason interrupted, even though he didn't have any memories of you.

At least he was still the same horribly perfect sweetheart he had been before he left. His months with the Greeks—all of them watching you with mixed emotions—hadn't turned him sour.

"Oh, you should have seen her, Jason!" Octavian was going now, flourishing in the attention and you hated him, hated him so much your cheeks burned as bright a red as the kool-aid trapped perpetually in Dakota's hip flask. "Crying, every night. She even has—"

"I said, enough, Octavian,"

"—has a key to your bunkroom!" The augur finished, and if you had been able to think of anything beyond your embarrassment or frustration or fear that you were totally, irrevocably erased from Jason's mind, you would have remembered Octavian's threat, earlier, before the trireme arrived. He was just exacting his twisted form of justice.

Embarrass me in front of the Senate, and I will destroy you in front of Jason Grace, you could practically hear him sneer.

"Wait," The Greek named Leo narrowed his eyes at Jason before darting them to you, a grin on his lips that screamed trouble. "Did you two use to date?"

"I don't know," Was Jason's clipped, short reply, his cheeks dusting pink as he fixed his attention on your face. He studied you like he didn't understand you, which was ridiculous, because sometimes it felt like you and Jason shared a heart.

"No," You grunted, shoving your plate forwards, glare fixed on the stupid cherry tomatoes rolling atop the porcelain that you despised and Jason adored.

"We never could figure out if that was the truth," Octavian slanted a look to you, smirking. "But I guess we don't have to worry about that now, do we Centurion? Since he has no memory of you, of—"

Faster than what would have been possible, if your father had been anyone different, you lifted the knife set beside your plate and slammed the tip into the wooden table, between two of his fingers. He screamed, and the plates on the table rattled.

Weapons were forbidden inside the Pomerian Line, but dinner knives were only utensils.

The whole table fell silent. And maybe the whole Dining Hall, had, beyond Octavian's spluttering and cursing and calling for your trial before the Senate for attacking an Augur.

And maybe if Percy wasn't glaring at Octavian, and Reyna hadn't been the one to slip you Jason's key, he might have had a case against you.

"Praetors," Standing, you bowed your head to Reyna and Percy, and though every muscle in your body screamed to pay the same respects to Jason, you couldn’t get yourself together enough to meet his eye. How could he not know you? "I request to be dismissed."

"I will come find you later." Reyna nodded, intelligent eyes shimmering with understanding, and you never realized just how much it hurt to be pitied by her. "We’ve got much to discuss."

"Yeah. Uh, lots." Percy nodded, looking between you and Reyna like he couldn’t quite figure out what he was missing. But then his attention snagged on Jason, seated across the table, and you saw it all—the understanding, the pity, the sorrow—pass over his face. "Wait—"

Annabeth jammed her elbow into his side, and you met her eye briefly. She might have been the only one who understood even a fraction of what you were going through.

But at least Percy remembered her, and he had loved her freely, before.

“Later.” You confirmed through clenched teeth, turning swiftly to try and find a spot far enough from Jason Grace so that his lack of memories didn’t hurt.

You weren’t sure such a spot existed.

Your feet carried you deeper into the city, walking past store after store. You couldn't stomach going into much of them, every bakery and café and bookstore holding some memory of Jason. Far more memories than he held, of you.

You weren't sure how much time had passed before you heard the first explosion.

And Roman training kicked in, instantly, as you raced towards the forum, where the Greek trireme was firing on your city, the one you had only just saved from and army led by a giant.

Fall in! You shouted, organizing legionnaires, your mind and your instincts at war. And you knew Greeks and Romans were at war, too. Protect the city!

You barely were able to glimpse the dark haired boy, Leo, manning the ballistae attached to the side of the ship before it took off, rocketing through the skies, even with Roman firepower slamming into the hull.

And as the trireme disappeared into the distance, fear tore through you.

Because you knew Jason. You knew he was on that ship, with his new friends. You knew he was sailing off with them, bound to a quest that meant saving the world, if what they said was to be trusted.

And you knew what came next.

Jason Grace, loyal to the end.

You were going to have to kill him.

a/n: did not mean to give reader such a tragic backstory but I kinda love it... im so curious to know what ur fav part is, bc I cannot decide. ty for reading this much and plz let me know what you think!

tag, you're it: @aezuria @tayswiftlovebot @bonnie-tz @folklorefantasies14 @sunshine-of-ur-life @irwinchester@bellamysnatblida @saph-nic @auroraofthesun1 @helloimamistake

#jason grace #jason grace fanfic #jason grace x y/n #jason grace x you #jason grace x reader #heroes of olympus #pjo #rays of sun #Jason Grace fanfiction #Jason Grace reader insert

[witchwyfe]

kiss me more - jhs

pairing - Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x female reader

précis - based on this

content/warnings - mentions of alcohol, mentions of being drunk, mentions of a hangover, fluff,

word count - 671

You're always excited to see Jake when the two of you have been apart.

But add the margaritas you've consumed during girl's night and the fact that you haven't seen him all day or evening, and your excitement is increased by a tenfold.

Tamara's husband is the one taking you all home tonight, not that that stopped Jake from offering--multiple times.

Unbeknownst to you, Jake's been preparing for your arrival all night. Your pajamas are folded nicely on your side of the bed, water bottle full of ice and water, and a bottle of Aspirin sitting on your nightstand.

He likes doing things to take care of you, but he also misses you. Ever since the two of you moved in together, the long days at work feel ever longer, and the nights you don't spend together last an eternity.

When the car stops, you're pushing at your seatbelt and yanking at the door handle before anyone can get out to help you.

"I'm fine!" You whine, when you feel a hand around your waist.

"Hush." Natasha laughs, dragging you up the lawn. "Let's get you safely inside so you can see lover boy."

You cheer, speeding up the last few steps to the door, almost causing Natasha to trip.

"Easy tiger," She chuckles. The second the door opens, you're flinging your body through the threshold and onto Jake.

"Jake!" You coo against his neck. One hand gently rests against the back of your head, the other one on your lower back, pulling you closer.

"Hi baby doll," He presses a kiss to your forehead. You're squirming in his grasp, trying to get closer.

He meets Natasha's eye over your shoulder, giving her a knowing look.

"Thanks Tash." He smiles. "I'll see you on Monday."

Once she leaves, Jake locks the door before gathering you into his arms. 

"C'mere baby, you wanna go upstairs?" 

"You nod against his neck."

"I've got your stuff upstairs and some snacks too."

"Thank you, Jakey."

He sits you down carefully on the bed before crouching down to take off your shoes.

When he sits up, you're on him again, arms slung around his neck.

"Thank you, thank you." You coo, peppering his face and neck with kisses.

"You're so cute!" You whine, smacking your lips to his cheekbone. "I missed you so much."

"I missed you too, baby." He smiles, seemingly unaware to all the lipstick you're stamping onto his skin.

In typical hangover fashion, you awake to a pounding head and uneasy stomach.

You're groaning loudly, loud enough to wake Jake if he wasn't already up. He'd already gotten up, showered, and went out to your favorite coffee shop to grab drinks.

"How ya feelin' champ?" You can hear the amusement in his voice and you frown.

"Not good."

He chuckles. “Yeah I figured.” He sets your coffee and a brown paper bag on your nightstand, right behind the bottle of pain-killers. 

“Thank you.” You say pathetically. 

“You’re cute when you’re drunk, ya know that?” He wonders, leaning over to kiss the top of your head. “And when you’re hungover…and sober.”

“Stop!” You whine. “You’re not allowed to be this cute when I feel like shit.”

“Sorry darlin'.”

You crack an eye open to look at him, before making grabby hands at him. He carefully slides on top of you, the pressure of his body warm and comforting on yours.

You’re fussing with his face and hair, when you notice a smear of red lipstick on his neck. 

“What’s that?” You wonder, thumbing at the stain.

His face blooms almost as red as the shade swatched on his neck. “Shoot, I must’ve missed a spot.”

“From what?”

“Why don’t you get your phone, sweet girl?” He runs a hand over the back of your head. 

Brows furrowing, you open your phone, clicking on your most recently used app. 

A plethora of selfies fills your screen, your lips pouted, face squished against Jake’s, who has red lipstick marks all over his skin.

“Whoops.”

© witchwyfe 2024. absolutely no reposting, translating, or modifying, even with credit.

#mine #my work #my writing #witchwyfe #witchwyfe writing #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin oneshot #jake hangman seresin fanfiction #jake hangman seresin imagine #jake hangman seresin x you #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin oneshot #jake seresin fanfiction #tw alchohol mention #tw drinking #cw alcohol #top gun maverick fanfiction

[moonstruckme]

Hii!! I have a request if thats okay, its kinda weird tho so if you don't wanna do it thats totaly okay<3

So i have like a really sensitive stomach so if i eat like anything greasy or a lot of one thing i get a really bad tummy ache, especially after supper like i don't throw up or anything im just kinda useless for like 2 hours. So the request is if you could do poly x fem!reader (or one of them, whatever you prefer) and have them comfort her and stuff? Maybe like cuddles and belly rubs? Idk

Thank u for excisting btw, you really make my day everytime you post<3

Thanks sweetheart, hope you like it :)

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

Remus knocks at your door tentatively. He’d known something was off when you’d left dinner early, vague about why you had to get home but urgent in a way that unnerved him. He’d followed you out of the restaurant, hoping to catch you in the parking lot, but you’d already gotten on your bus. Remus knew you were probably fine, but he couldn’t shake his anxiety about the way you’d left and he’d made his excuses a few minutes later, ignoring the jeering protests of his friends as he set out for your apartment. 

After knocking again, he tries the handle, surprised and a bit alarmed to find the door unlocked. He calls your name as he steps inside hesitantly, wary of startling you if you’ve gone to sleep or have just gotten out of the shower (that’s something he’d like to see under more consensual circumstances). “It’s Remus,” he says into the dark apartment, feeling a bit silly. “Are you here?”

“Rem,” a soft voice comes from the direction of the living room, “what’re you doing here?” 

He moves toward the sound. “I came to check on you. Sorry for just letting myself in, but you left dinner so suddenly and I…oh, sweetheart.”

He finds you on the couch, all curled up with your face pinched in obvious pain.

“Honey, what happened?” he asks, crouching beside you. His hand comes up to pet your hair of its own accord. 

“Nothing, I’m fine,” you say, the strain in your voice belying your words. “I just came home because my stomach was bothering me.” 

Remus feels his brows pinch. “It hurts?” you nod, seeming embarrassed. He can’t imagine why, it’s not like you’ve any control over that sort of thing. “Do you think it was something you ate?” 

You’re looking down at your knees, held tightly to your chest. “I…kind of,” you sigh. “This happens sometimes. Like, when I eat a lot of the same thing, or greasy foods.” 

Remus nods thoughtfully. “So like, when James won’t stop piling fries onto your plate all night, and you feel like you have to eat them?” You look sheepish, and James is going to feel awful when Remus is through with him. He’s going to make damn sure nothing like this ever happens again on his watch. “I’m sorry, lovely,” he says. “Is there anything I can do to help?” 

You hesitate. “I’ve got ibuprofen in the bathroom, but I haven’t wanted to get up. Could you bring it to me?”

Remus squeezes your shoulder lightly, standing. “Of course, sweetheart.”

 He hurries to the bathroom, finding the small bottle of pills under the sink and bringing it back along with a cup of water. He shakes a couple of tablets into his hand, passing them to you, but withholds the water when you reach for it. 

“Sorry.” He really is. “You’ve got to sit up to drink it, don’t want you to choke.” 

You shuffle into an upright position, bracing your back against the couch with your knees still drawn tight to your front, and Remus hands the cup over. You swallow the pills with a light exhale, as if you’re already anticipating the relief they’ll bring. 

“Thanks, Rem.” 

“It’s no problem,” he replies, and he hopes you understand how much he means it. “How long does the pain usually last?” 

You sigh. “A couple hours. I’ll probably just lie here and wait it out, I won’t be able to get to sleep until it stops.” 

Remus tries not to pout at you, his heart aching with sympathy. “If you’d like, we could watch a movie or something,” he suggests, adding quickly. “But if you want me to leave so you can relax, I completely understand, love.” 

You ponder for a second, your face still tight with pain. “No, that sounds nice,” you say after a second. “A distraction could help, and I’ll be more relaxed with you here anyway.” 

Remus has to turn away so you don’t see the full force of his smile, occupying himself with your television. He holds up a movie for you to see, putting it in the VHS player once you approve. You waste no time in snuggling up to him when he sits next to you on the couch, and Remus wraps his arm around you happily, rubbing gently up and down your arm. You all but melt under his touch, softening against his side. 

It’s a few minutes into the movie before he works up the courage to ask. “Do you think it would help,” he says, hoping his voice sounds at least remotely casual, “if I rubbed your stomach for you?”

You look at him in surprise. “Remus, that’s alright. You don’t have to.” 

“I don’t mind,” he says, and he doesn’t. Even though he’s giddy from the feel of you pressed up against him, he’s not offering as some excuse to touch you. He just wants so desperately to help. Seeing you in pain is like a gut punch every time he looks at you, and if there’s anything that can make you more comfortable, he wants to be the one to do it. “Really, I just want you to feel better.” 

“Okay, yeah.” You relax your grip on your knees, letting your thighs fall a few inches from your stomach and making an opening for him. “That’d be nice, thanks.” Remus watches your face, wary of any signs of discomfort as he brings his hand to your midsection. 

“You’ll tell me if I hurt you at all, yeah?”

“I will,” you say. “But you won’t.” 

Remus glows with your surety in him, but he’s still cautious as he draws his hand in small circles, gratified when you sigh. The movie casts blue light across your features, so he can see you a bit better as the crease between your brows evaporates, the tension around your mouth easing. Remus does his best to look like he’s watching the movie, but all his focus is on easing the upset in your abdomen, adjusting his methods any time you react even slightly in the positive or negative. Soon you’re completely molten against his side, blinks slowing as your eyelids start to droop heavily. 

“Did the ibuprofen kick in?” he asks softly. “You look like you’re getting sleepy, dove.” 

“I dunno,” you yawn, laying your cheek on his bicep, “maybe.” 

Remus almost hates to suggest it, but he’s not quite selfish enough to keep himself from asking. “If you want to get to bed, I can go.” 

“No, can you stay?” you yawn again, hugely. Remus tries not to stare, but you look adorable, cheek squished up against his arm and face soft with sleepiness. “Just until the movie’s done, please?”

Remus adjusts you against him, slouching so that you can lay your head on his shoulder without hurting your neck. “Yeah, of course I can stay, lovely.” He resumes rubbing your stomach, dropping a quick kiss on the top of your head. “I’ll stay as long as you’ll have me.”

#remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x fem!reader #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x self insert #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin fic #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin scenario #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin oneshot #marauders era #marauders #the marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fanfic #marauders fic #the marauders era #marauders x reader #marauders fandom

[cherrychilli]

18+

AFAB reader, soft! Steve, breast massage, nipple play, pre-menstrual ouchies. Basically, your boobies hurt and Steve's ready to take care of you and make it all better.

A/N: I started writing this months ago and let it sit in my drafts for longer than I would have liked. This is very self indulgent because I have terrible mastalgia and I needed to write a little comfort drabble (with a bit of spice of course). Who wouldn't want to have someone like Steve around help to ease your pain? Anyway, I hope you enjoy it. Please let me know if you did!

You didn't have to check your calendar to be reminded of what was now, by your estimation, a week away when you felt an all too familiar pinch in your chest. The first warning of what was to come. In just a few hours the occasional twinge progressed to an ache, warm and beating that stretched across your entire chest and left the soft tissue underneath sore. Your breasts always swelled before your period. That much you could bare to deal with but what made it all the more unpleasant was the increased sensitivity that accompanied it. Your breasts felt heavier than they had earlier in the month and the extra sensitivity only made you more conscious of your every move. Even with the help of your most supportive bra, every shift, every step, every nudge that caused your breasts to jiggle was met with a fresh wave of throbbing heat.

Medication barely ever numbed your pain and cold compress did nothing else but momentarily cool your heated skin. After enduring it for so long you knew only carefully working the sensitive flesh would alleviate the persistent gnawing. You tried to ease the tension with your own hands during the day as you attended to your tasks but any relief was always fleeting. With all the work you had to see to in-between, there was barely enough time to massage yourself properly and the times you were able to give yourself some extra attention, your overworked wrists would tire before you could quell the throbbing. As much as you tried on your own, you found that it felt far better when Steve took over for you, letting him gently knead your tender flesh while you were allowed to relax and melt under his touch.

You waited until he returned home from work, throwing your shirt off without a shred of hesitation moments after he'd walked through the door. "Baby", you let out in a honeyed whimper, pretty but he can hear the pain behind it, quickly realizing what had been troubling you all day. Concern for you was always at the forefront of Steve's mind of course. He was always sympathetic to your discomfort but he couldn’t help the excitement that spiked inside him when he found you waiting for him on the couch. You were a sight even in your current state. Your busy hands working underneath your thin t-shirt, only ridding yourself of it entirely at the sight of him, pleading with big desperate eyes and soft whines to have his hands on you instead. He had to remind himself to keep that excitement contained. At least for now.

"Come here, babe. Let me take care of you", he soothed, joining you on the couch and directing your attention to his lap as he pat it with a gentle smile. "Can't have my girl in pain".

You heaved a sigh of relief before handing him the bottle of baby oil you had placed on the table in anticipation of his arrival. You settled yourself on his lap with your back against his chest, letting out an appreciative hum when he pressed a quick kiss to your temple. You wait for him to pop the cap back on the bottle, watching the oil pour into the well of his palm before he sets the closed bottle back on the table, rubbing his hands together to coat his palms with the slippery contents. As soon as he parts his hands you're pulling at his wrists, bringing his hands up to cover your breasts. "So impatient", he chides playfully, letting you press them into your skin. "Hurts so bad" you groaned in reply, eyes fluttering shut at the sensation of his warm hands on your bare breasts.

He took note of the amount of pressure you applied when you squeezed your hands over his, letting your hands fall away when he matched it. Steve was always mindful to start with light, occasional squeezes before gradually getting more firm. You rest your head against his shoulder while he props his chin on yours to get a better look, figuring out which areas needed the most attention. His fingers rubbed at the top of your breasts while the heel of his palm pressed into the bottom curve of your breast and kneaded upwards, gliding over your skin with the thin coating of oil.

"I know you said it hurts but, what does it feel like exactly?", he pondered out loud, wanting to understand how this all made you feel. Many words come to mind and you're unsure on which one to settle on. "Tight" you answered first before elaborating, "just, really sore and hot and tight. The kind that feels like it's cutting through you", you added just as another sharp pang flared in your left breast. You couldn't see it, eyes squeezing shut at the newest twinge of pain but Steve's lips fell into a little frown at that, feeling bad that you had to go through this every month. You relax your pinched brow when his fingers find the exact spot that was bothering you, working the twisting ache away carefully. "And how about when I massage them?", he asked again.

A smile tugged at our lips, already feeling the benefit of his hands kneading the tension away. "Mmm...kind of like loosening a knotted muscle and holding ice over a burn at the same time", you explained after a thoughtful pause. You can sense the frown on his face now. Using more pain to describe your relief might not have been the best choice of words you realize. "Really really good", you quickly substituted instead. You're making me feel so good, Stevie", you reached up to caress his cheek in thanks, a hint of stubble scratching underneath your fingers. His frown softened then, returning to the gentle smile that he had greeted you with earlier.

Basking in your praise was short lived however because it was impossible to miss the way your breath would hitch whenever he rubbed over one of the more sensitive areas with his chin propped on your shoulder. Alleviating your pain remained his top priority but the feeling of your nipples pebbling against his palms, the sight of your supple breasts in his hands and fuck, the way you whimpered and moaned right beside his ear made it difficult to keep his cock from reacting.

He grazed your pert nipples with his thumbs, taking in the way you shuddered in response against him before asking you if you were feeling any better, a wobbly tone to his latest inquiry. The answer was obvious yet he asked it anyway to distract himself from the way your ass had begun to grind against his stiffening cock and the sensation of your nails sinking into his thighs. He couldn't tell if you were aware of what you were doing. If you were just so lost to his touch, moving against him unconsciously as the pain started to subside. He only knew that if you kept this up you were bound to feel it soon enough. You hummed out a very satisfied ‘yes’, following it with a breathy request, one that made the blood rush to cock that much faster. 

“So so good…but, I need a little more right here".

You reached up to guide his hands once more, grazing the pads of his fingers over your nipples again. "Could you-", but he was already following through without you having to say any more, gently circling and rolling your nipples. You let your hands drop, going limp against his chest with a blissful sigh. The extra sensitivity no longer plagued you, pleasure beginning to spark and heighten instead. Feeling a little daring, Steve applied the slightest bit of pressure, pinching the buds gently. He eased when you didn't protest, showing your approval by arching your back to push your breasts into his hands further. It encouraged him to tug on your nipples, pulling a high pitched whimper out of you next. The oil that had been applied to your chest had absorbed into your skin now, no longer a glistening sheen blanketing your skin, only leaving you softer to the touch.

"Stevie, need you to do one more thing for me", you let out, dulcet and feathery he almost hadn't heard it despite how close you were to him.

"Anything", he answered quick.

"Would you mind…using your mouth? I just…I don’t know- I feel like it’ll help…”, the meek lilt to your voice and the way your head ducked told him that your newest request had little to do with sating your original ache and had everything to do with a new one a little further south when he noticed your thighs rubbing together.

"Yeah? would that make you feel better?", he teased knowingly, beaming with a grin.

You nod, a little shy about it but mostly eager.

"Turn around for me"

You do so, catching sight of the outline of his cock as you move to straddle his lap, hard and more than evident underneath his jeans, just as you'd pictured it when you felt it beneath you earlier. You will yourself to be patient, directing your fingers away from his bulge for the moment, keen on letting him get his mouth on you first before you can return the favor. You fully intended on showing him how much you appreciated his help.

Steve takes a moment to stare at your breasts as you curl your fingers over his shoulders and ease yourself down. He notices that you're not wincing anymore when they jiggle as you adjust yourself in his lap and that makes him happy for two reasons. First, because it means he's lessened your pain and second, because it means that he doesn't have to be as gentle with you anymore. You gasp when his tongue washes over your right nipple before blowing on the wet skin, watching it perk up and turn stiff. Your skin tastes faintly of the softly scented oil he'd massaged into you. Not unpleasant. Subtle and tasted exactly how it smelled. He does the same with your left, watching the bud pull tight before he closes his lips around it. "Fu- oh, just like that", you moaned, eyes slipping shut as he sucked and laved at your nipples, teasing them between his teeth until the only ache left was the one between your legs and he had no problem taking care of that too.

#steve harrington smut #stranger things smut #steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington x reader