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violettaskies · 7 months

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Of Books & Beasts

Prompt: virginity

Paring: best friend!steve harrington x f!reader

Genre: romance, slow burn, friends to lovers, one bed trope

Notes: wc 9.1k // my first kinktober story (one of five) // hope everyone enjoys it // it’s very soft // a little scary movie night sleep over // reader falls asleep next to steve and things get a little steamy // i wrote everything to have as much consent as possible // steve is a bit of a perv lol

Warnings: MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY, NSFW // slight somnophilia, dry humping, virginity loss, vaginal fingering // masturbation // smut // 'just the tip' is used once or twice // please let me know if there is anymore that need to be added!

ao3 // kinktober masterlist // full masterlist // lazy ghoul’s kinktober prompts

-:-:-:-:-

The night was meant to be a simple one. After weeks of assignments, exams, quizzes, and extracurricular activities at college, all you wanted to do was relax. Well, you still had one more assignment left to do, but maybe you were able to kill two birds with one stone, right?

Luckily, this assignment was one that you could easily ask for help with from your friend. Someone who always stole movies for you to borrow on many weekends anyways. With your class being based on books which turned into film adaptations, it means a lot of time spent reading and watching. In truth, you felt bad for your classmates who had to rent out the tapes for extended periods just to finish analysis for assignments; all while you didn’t even need to bat an eyelash in Steve’s direction for him to hide movies in your backpack while his manager wasn’t looking.

With the theme of this particular assignment matching the season and going with horror films, a movie night was something that you craved. Thick sweaters, even thicker blankets, a bit of hot chocolate, and candy from the grocery store that had the orange and black packaging — they were all of the aspects to the marathon you proposed when you walked into Family Video on a Friday afternoon after you got off the bus. Despite all of your convincing tactics, your friend already had his answer long before you began to ask.

“Anything for you, dove. I’ll get everything on this list for us,” Steve smiled at you, after looking at the assignment rubric, as you stood on the other side of the cash register.

“Alright, maybe I should place a pizza order now so that we don’t starve during the Friday dinner rush tonight,” you said sweetly as you nervously thought about what to order.

“Don’t you worry about it, it’s on me. Let me treat you a little.”

“I’m the one who asked you to have a movie marathon with me, I should really be the one paying,” you insisted while you brought your hand closer to the telephone.

But, quickly, the man was able to grasp it lightly to stop you from moving towards the numbers. You could never admit just how much your skin tingled at the touch. “I’m serious. This shift finishes in twenty minutes, then I can drive us home and I’m all yours. Do whatever you want with me, dove. I can even help out with your stress relief later. Maybe I’ll bend —”

“Please don’t continue that sentence,” you cut him off easily. Steve always loved to tease you and any eavesdroppers who may be listening in and theorizing if you two were dating or not. The town is full of gossip fiends. “Any louder and people will start to believe you.”

The younger Harrington chuckled as he got out from behind the counter to stand fully in front of you. He adored to see the way you outwardly pretended you hated the fake moves he would pull. From him putting his arm around your shoulder whilst walking around town, whistling every other time he picked you up from the city bus stop, to intimidating every guy who looked in your direction for too long. However, both of you never knew the other wished for it all to be real.

“Fine, fine, I’ll be good and stop teasing you,” he chuckled lowly.

“Thank you,” you smiled to yourself before looking up at Steve with wide eyes. “So will you also be buying garlic knots tonight too?”

“Yes, as long as you promise to stay awake until the final movie, sleepy girl.”

-:-:-:-:-

You, in fact, did not stay awake the whole movie night. It wasn’t Tim Curry’s fault either. Normally, it was tradition for you two to end off every evening like this with one musical or something more lighthearted to offset the mood. But the day just exhausted you from every angle, that once you finally got to relax and watch a movie for leisure — you relaxed a little too hard. Adding the components of the cold pizza and Steve putting a blanket on you while continuously keeping a grasp on your knee, you were bound to knock out before the movie ended. Later, it was Steve who woke you up with a whisper in your ear. The sound shocked you at first, and then when you opened your eyes to see the man kneeling in front of you, it did cause a slightly loud gasp to escape your lips. After some groaning on your end about not wanting to intrude, you finally gave in to the invitation Steve gave to let you sleep over tonight. The main contributing factor had to be the fact that the man had a really nice blanket and pillow set that felt like it came from a hotel.

However, as you both ended off the night in your room, it was Steve who began to groan — although, it was due to pure frustration.

“I don’t have any clean clothes,” your host said as he rummaged through his drawers.

“How about any sweater and some of those long johns your mother always buys you?” you giggled as you sat on the bed now, reading a book you recently checked out from the library.

“Or you could always sleep naked, I heard it’s really healthy for you. Plus, I would not mind at — ow,” Steve was on his little sarcastic joke before you threw an old pair of socks at his head.

“Maybe I should just head home, this feels like such a nuisance to you,” you smiled and whispered shyly.

Steve really was trying hard to find you something to sleep in. So much so that it caused some sweat to drop on his forehead. But, truly, the man was standing there trying to work up the courage to ask you to put on one of his old swim team sweaters and a cotton pair of shorts he knew would hug your body beautifully.

Yes, you have slept over before when you were younger. However, those were all planned out with you bringing something from home. Well, there was one emergency where you stayed the night due to a horrific snow storm; but, Mrs. Harrington was there to give you your Christmas present a few weeks early and allow you to sleep in some pyjamas which were covered in cute bunnies. This was the first time you would be here spontaneously alone with Steve — and god, did he feel like all of his prayers were answered. The amount of times he has imagined you laying on his bed, committing the most sinful acts, in various positions and scenarios, could be seen as absolutely perverted. So to have the opportunity to have you on his bed, wearing his clothes, covered in his blanket; it all seemed unfathomable to the man.

“Here,” Steve exclaimed quickly so that you would actually stay. “Maybe you would be alright with this sweatshirt and some shorts?”

“This is more than alright. Thank you, Steve,” You skipped off to the washroom to finally get ready for bed and let your friend change into his own pyjamas.

However, when you got the clothing on, it was so embarrassing to stare into the mirror. Everything fits fine — and on a normal day at home, you would probably wear something similar. But remembering the fact that you would be sleeping next to your best friend was so nerve wracking. It was just a lot shorter than what you would usually wear around him if you did wear a skirt or shorts. You just thanked the heavens that the blanket would be covering your legs so that you didn’t feel as exposed.

Not that you believed Steve would try anything; not that you didn’t want him to try anything either. But, you were scared of getting so cold and cuddling too close to him like you did last December during the winter storm. Waking up in Steve’s arms caused your heart to flutter so harshly that your heart rate didn’t go down for days. It made you think about how badly you wished you could wake up to his handsome face everyday. Most especially, it made you think about how nicely his leg felt right in between your thighs, and the way it massaged your —

No.

This was an innocent sleepover like the thousands that other best friends have had over the years. All you had to do was sleep next to him with a pillow between your bodies and hope you didn’t accidentally roll your way into his arms again. You weren’t sure if you were ready for the heartbreak of knowing that being entwined in each other’s arms would not last forever.

“Do you want the left or right side of the bed?” Steve called out from the other side of the door, startling you out of your thoughts.

“Anything is fine,” you replied whilst opening the door. Seeing that Steve was laying in the middle, ready to roll over to whichever side you preferred. The image of him with arms and legs spread out made you giggle.

“The left side is closer to the lamp if you’d like to read a bit before sleeping,” he said as he shifted over to the ride side of the bed and patted to your new spot.

“Are you a mind reader or something?” you chuckled between steps.

Steve put the book in the air as you tucked yourself into bed, a nice distance away from him. Once he saw you were comfortable, he placed the book gently in your lap and said: “no, but I could tell your little nap will probably have you staying awake for the next hour or so.”

“Oh, if the light is gonna bother you then I can turn it off and head to sleep too.”

The concern in your eyes was absolutely beautiful. As you started up at him with the lamp glowing behind you, you looked like a nymph in the night. And oh how Steve knew he would be the luckiest man alive to sleep next to you.

“Go ahead, dove. I can sleep through anything,” he whispered lowly whilst rubbing your thigh that was covered by the thick blanket. “What’s it about anyways?”

You took a deep breath to calm down before speaking. Steve’s touch caused you to feel warm, even more so when he squeezed your thigh every few moments. “Not too sure about the entire plot since I’m only on chapter two. But it’s about a prince and his beast companion. They’ve been best friends for a long time and are going on adventures. This was in the romance section so I’m guessing the best friends fall in love,” you rambled, getting quieter with the last few words.

What a dream.

“Is it dirty?” Steve teased as he sunk further underneath the blanket.

“No, I-I’ve never read a story like that before,” you said sternly.

“Oh, I believe you,” his voice got deeper and slower with each word, only indicating that he was bound to fall asleep any second. “Have fun reading.”

They were the last words he said before drifting off to sleep peacefully next to you. Luckily, that meant it was a lot easier to read the rest of the book until you felt your own eyes start closing and the words on the page started to become blurry.

It was a beautiful story, full of lore and love, a mix of historical fiction and mythology. After reading and watching stories based on the horror genre for a few weeks now, it was nice to have a little bit of a break and just read about love. Your heart started to feel warm and giddy as each page passed — even going as far as quietly giggling when you felt your cheeks feel warm as a result of the prince’s romantic actions throughout the book. You didn’t even notice that you were sinking further and further into the blanket because you were so engrossed in the imaginary world. It didn’t even matter that the angle made your back hurt a little.

Well, not really. Once you started to feel stiff, you moved into a straighter position. However, you were interrupted by a low and groggy voice.

“You want to get under here?” Steve asked you through half-lidded eyes and his arm moving to invite you to move even closer into his body.

Wordlessly, you accepted the offer and went right up to Steve’s body. The book was on his chest while your cheek was at his side. Everything felt so comfortable and domestic — a part of you wished this could last forever.

But right then, the storyline of the book went on a different path, to say the least.

You see, the prince got hurt whilst fighting off some evil spirits. He was bleeding everywhere and in so much pain. But the companion, a beautiful wolf-demon, was able to heal his wounds to the point where it wouldn’t be so life threatening. It was so simple, to use a little magic and bandages in hopes of survival, but the author was able to portray it wonderfully. To thank the woman, the prince moved his arms around her to hold her a warm embrace. It was so sweet, just like the position you were in now. However, it took a turn for the romantics. A little too romantic. An activity you definitely were not currently doing with Steve.

The man kissed her sweetly: from her shoulders, up to her neck, then finally landed on her plump lips. It was beautiful, so serene, accompanied by a drawing of the two in bed with locked lips and legs. Slowly, she started to rock against his leg, adoring the pressure against the place no one had touched before. As she gasped into each kiss, the prince smiled in tandem. Even moving his hips to help the lady feel more pleasure. You wondered how that felt, it was only a slight movement of the hips — there was no way it could feel that good.

But you were so wrong.

Just as you tried to move positions, Steve moved his leg upwards, moving his thigh right against your heat. It felt so good, to the point where you bit your lip to suppress the whimper that was about to escape your lips. The man next to you, tried to find a better position to sleep in too, moving his legs some more until it found solace as it intertwined with your own legs.

Fuck, it felt really good. You tried so hard not to move your hips in tandem so that you could amp up the pleasure. So instead, you continued to read, trying to focus on the writing techniques and nothing else. However, you only began noting the things the characters did with one another. How they whispered sweet nothings as they continued their game to see how long it would take the lady to climax. And you noticed the way you felt warm between your legs, a slight throbbing to seal the deal.

Maybe in another world you would wake up Steve and ask him to let you out of his embrace so that you could excuse yourself to the washroom and down. But not in this one. In this world, you were at peace in his arms. In this world, you really didn’t care about the throbbing ache between your legs because you were extremely sleepy. In this world, you would convince yourself that it would pass. In this world, the sound of both your hearts beating as one was enough of a lullaby to cause even the most stubborn of characters to sleep. Just as you did now, with the book still on Steve’s chest, and your bodies squeezing closer together.

-:-:-:-:-

Steve was an extremely heavy sleeper when he was with you. Most of the time, you would be awake first during these little sleepovers and do something before he even pried his eyes open and then decided to keep them shut because of the sun seeping through the windows. It wouldn’t surprise Steve to see you reading at your desk or braiding friendship bracelets when you had that arts n’ crafts phase a couple years ago. This time, however, he was the one who awoke in the middle of the night to movement from beside him. Maybe it was due to some level of paranoia he has gained over the past few years regarding a life that he wishes you would never need to experience. It’s funny that you were reading books with monsters the world has nightmares about, while he was one of the people who was facing them. He wishes so badly to protect you from all of it. So when you started moving in your sleep, something you never do, Steve felt his body wake up in an instant.

His eyes were having trouble fully opening themselves as he could hear faint whimpering sounds coming from you and slight movements near his thigh. It was enough to turn his head to the left to see what was wrong. But nothing was wrong per se. If anything this was right out of a perverted fantasy he has had millions of times before.

As his eyes finally came into focus at what was in front of him, Steve could only smile and thank the heavens. You were laying in the same position you initially fell asleep in: book held in your hand, it being face down on Steve’s chest on a particular page, while your own face was on the side of his chest. But, the thing that surprised him the most was the grip your thighs had around his own. Slowly, your hips were thrusting back and forth against his leg, humping over and over. Whenever your body hit the perfect spot against your clit, you would mewl against his chest, sending a vibration through his body. Your hard nipples would poke Steve’s stomach once in a while too.

Good Lord, he was so distracted by the vision of you thrusting against his thigh, that he didn’t realize just how hard he had become. He only noticed it when your leg tensed up and moved towards his crotch, touching the underside and head in the process.

You were about to become the death of him tonight.

Curiously, he picked up the book you were reading to put it on the bedside table, when the words jumped out at him.

“And then the prince lifted the dress of the maiden beast. How scary she was to the eyes of the kingdom, but how beautiful she looked with swollen lips and lust-filled eyes. She was wet, so wet that it seeped through the layers of clothing.”

Just then, Steve looked down to notice how your wetness was doing the same thing. Your arousal had gone past your shorts and went onto the cotton bottoms he was wearing. But he wouldn’t have it any other way.

The man skipped a few paragraphs to see just exactly what the prince and his lady were up to. Words of biting, screaming, thrusting harshly against the wall, even scratches along one another’s backs. It was pornographic, it was beautiful, and Steve was shocked that your virgin eyes read through some of this before falling asleep.

If only he could recreate it with you. Seeing you moan and move to your lust-filled slumber was more than enough of a dream come true to the man. But this was wrong. So wrong. You both were best friends. He loved you, wished he could be more with you. But he believed that wasn’t worthy of you. You were the princess this whole town adored while he was just a former playboy many people seemed to dislike sometimes. There was a part of him that wanted to see how long it would take for you to come against his leg. However, his guilt took over quickly.

“Wake up, my dove. It’s getting hot in here.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. The mixture of blankets and his arousal made Steve sweat through his clothes easily.

“Hm? What?” You rolled more onto his chest, your weight atop his body nicely. It would have been the world’s most comfortable position, one that would start off most of his perverted fantasies about you; however, he had to stop himself from thrusting against your thigh that was now perfectly on top of his hardness. “Feels so nice, Stevie,” you murmured, still half-asleep.

“Fuck — you really like that, huh?” The man whispered as you looked up at him with glazed eyes. You were still not cognizant that what you were doing was not in a dream.

“I feel so warm down there, your leg is massaging me nicely,” you moaned whilst humping some more. “Kiss me, please.”

Every move you were doing, every word you were saying, every whimper that came out of your throat — the man has imagined it all before. You were all of his greatest fantasies come to life. He wished so badly to ravish you on the spot and satiate all of the pent-up pleasure your body needed to release. Your lips were swollen now from all of the biting you’ve been doing to quiet down your moans; but, good god, the man was going to memorize it all for the sake of his future sessions with his right hand.

Steve really needed to stop this, and fully wake you up as soon as possible. This wasn’t the normal you, you didn’t even realize exactly what you were doing. “Pretty girl, no matter how much I want to continue this, we can’t.” The words fell from his lips painfully.

“Why not? You don’t feel good?” You whimpered as you reached up and put your arms around Steve’s neck, stopping your hips’ movements all together.

“Feels so good, baby,” Steve moaned loudly this time as he thrusted against your leg like he imagined a million times before. It wasn't helping that you thought your face closer to his in order to hear his breathy moans easier. The man was so close to leaning forward and kissing your plump lips. “But, this isn’t a dream, and you’re not fully awake. I don’t want you to regret this—”

The man was going to ramble on and continue to comfort you into waking up fully. However, you got the message loud and clear. So much so, that your heart dropped and you gasped.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I’ll move over t-there — ah.” The moan coming out of your mouth was completely involuntary as you lifted your body up and intended on moving down and away from Steve’s figure.

“Did that feel good?” Steve teased, now that you were both fully cognizant of your sleeping status.

“I don’t know why I did that, I’m sorry.” If only you could apologize a million times, because you would; your guilty conscience would make sure of it.

“You probably had some sweet dreams, huh?”

Just as you were separated from the man, you heard his words and looked over at his figure. Through the dim lighting of the lamp, you could see that he was holding up the novel you were reading before bed, and it was open to the very scene that inspired any of your hormone-induced movements tonight.

“Oh no,” you whispered. Looking down, there was a wet spot on Steve’s thigh where your heat was pressed against. He was admiring it as if he were memorizing just how it looks. And he was. “This is so embarrassing,” you though out loud

“It’s no big deal, dove. Guys have nudie magazines and a video here and there. I would never judge you for a little novel,” Steve chuckled as he sat up to the headboard to mirror your actions.

“I didn’t know it was going to be like that in the story,” you whispered.

“Did you like it?” Your friend was genuinely curious. Throughout your history as friends, you had never even asked him for advice about relationships — this erotic chapter of the novel must have been a shocking first exposure to it all.

You thought about the question for a few moments. Remembering the emotions and fire you felt in different parts of your body, you could really only tell him the truth. “Y-yeah, I suppose so.”

“Then don’t feel embarrassed or bad about it,” Steve nudged your shoulder sweetly to make you feel less embarrassed over the situation. “Never thought you were into reading it in front of other people though.”

“Don’t tease,” you pouted, putting your head under the blanket to hide from the embarrassment.

“I’ll stop, I promise. But, you did give me a wonderful way to wake up,” you could hear him smiling just by the sound of his voice.

Those words made you slowly peek your way out of the thick blanket to see Steve looming over you with a smirk that teased your soul. The lamp in the room made him glow, while the moon’s beams that were seeping through the blinds made him look like one of the many drawings of the prince in the book you were just reading. It took all the strength within you, not to squeeze your thighs together and satiate the throbbing between them.

“Let’s never talk about this again,” you whispered, the blanket still covering your mouth.

“If that’s what you would be comfortable with,” Steve chuckled as he laid back in his spot.

“Y-yes, I would be.”

After a moment of awkward silence, you both in regular sleeping positions, Steve wanted to break the ice a bit. “It is a well-written book. Maybe I could borrow it sometime.”

“You’re so annoying,” you giggled, grabbing a small pillow on the bed and lightly hitting his chest with it.

“Learn anything while reading? You could use me as a practice dummy.” The man laid on his side now, looking at you as he put on a seductive tone.

“You’re just a dummy, Steve,” you playfully scoffed with a giggle.

“That was the last one, promise. Sweet dreams, dove.”

In truth, Steve wanted you to sleep as quickly as possible so that he could make his way to the washroom and get rid of his hard problem. It was hurting now, even as he tried to think about anything else that would possibly subside his arousal. Your movements and moans will never be erased from his mind. Steve’s imagination was running wild with how you actually sounded as you were feeling pleasure.

No one has ever thanked a book more in the history of mankind.

“Is that what sex is like?” You whispered into the night, cutting off the man’s thoughts.

“What do you mean?” Steve replied as he turned to his side to look at you staring up to the ceiling.

“In the book, they talk about it like it happens so fast and hard,” you said the words with a concerned tone while turning your body towards his to face him.

“Well, it can be fast and hard if the couple wants it that way. But, taking it slow is nice too,” the man next to you chuckled sweetly.

You felt dumb asking the question. For years, you have known that Steve was a lot more experienced than you in the department of relations with the opposite sex. There have been countless times where Steve would tell you about any dates that he has gone on, or imply lewd acts he committed with his girlfriend of the week. And all you would do is nod out of pure curiosity. However, this was the first time you outright spoke about sex with him.

“Right, right, that makes sense. It must feel really nice,” you continued your thoughts.

“It does. Everything is so warm and wet. The noises too are something you’ll never forget. My hand and imagination does not do it justice sometimes.” Right then, Steve’s mind went through flashbacks of times he has laid in bed with the image of you stuck as his muse. He has imagined the way you would react and moan to things he would do with you. Would you bite your lip whilst looking down between your bodies? Would you whimper in the same way you do when you beg Steve to drive you somewhere and he just had a long day at work? Anything you would do would be erotic, and enough fire for him to reach the happiest of endings. However, by the end, he would pray for the day he could experience the real thing with you.

“I wonder what it will be like for me,” you giggled, bringing the blanket close to your face again.

“You got a good idea a few minutes ago,” Steve teased as he looked you up and down.

All you could do was hit his shoulder then hide your face into it as he leaned back onto the bed. “It did feel really, really nice, Steve. I’m so sorry.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about. You liked it, didn’t you?” he said, trying to soothe your embarrassment of it all. As he squeezed his arm around you tighter to have you closer to his chest, Steve realized that your bare thighs had found their way around his again. You looked so beautiful cuddling next to him, tightening your legs slowly. “Then, maybe I can help. You didn’t get to finish, sweet girl.”

The deepness of Steve’s voice resonated through your entire body as you looked up at him with desperate eyes. His proposal sounded so good. You felt this constant throbbing between your legs that only increased ten-fold every time you and Steve accidentally breathed too close together. As you gripped his chest with your hands, and his thigh with your own — you really craved to continue the pleasure you were feeling moments before.

“I didn’t even know that I started,” you pouted.

“Oh, but finishing is one of the best parts,” he teased whilst moving his thigh upwards to massage your cunt slowly.

“Steve—” you moaned like music to his ears.

Your friend began to move his thigh up and down to stroke your pussy, hitting your clit from the right angle to make you bite your lip in between whimpers. He held your face sweetly, making sure that he could see how every movement affected you. Steve was sure that the image of your pupils getting darker would be engraved in his mind forever.

“My best friend needs help, and you know I would do anything for you,” he whispered, hovering his lips above yours.

“More, please.”

“So polite,” Steve teased, quickening his pace and moving one hand to your breasts. “Doing such a dirty thing and now you’re being so nice.”

“I feel so — I feel like I need more,” you said quietly as if it were a desperate plea.

Steve squeezed your right breast sweetly, pinching your hardened nipple through the thick sweater fabric. He noted how you thrusted yourself against his thigh and nearly fell onto his lips as you moaned.

“Is your body on fire? You feel nice, dove,” he smiled, kissing your cheek to tease you.

“So good. Kiss me, Steve, please.” You weren’t sure what took over your body in that moment, but you gripped onto his hair and leaned your lips towards his. Yet, he was the one who kissed you first. It was a kiss that made the angels sing above you, one that you both have been imagining for years and years. Hearing all of the stories of girls in school raving about his talents with his mouth and tongue — a part of you could never believe that he would be that amazing.

But, you were wrong, so wrong.

As he kissed you deeply, poking his tongue through to taste you more, you couldn’t help but whimper loudly into the kiss. Steve adored it, promising himself to try everything he could to hear every variation of your beautiful sounds. Just when he brought a hand down to your back, urging your hips to move forwards on his leg, you swear you were about to see stars. This is what all the magazines were talking about. This is what all the whispered conversations during girl talk were giggling about. This is what the novel you were just reading was writing about when it came to the pleasures of the flesh. You remembered what the lady did in the book, and decided to emulate her actions. Although you were slowing down your kisses, your hand found its way to Steve’s clothed hardness. It was nearly peeking out of the sweatpant elastic by now which made you gasp in surprise.

“God, what did you learn in that book?” Steve moaned as he felt your delicate hand on him.

“The characters in the story were really good friends too. She was always tempted to be the one who helped him out when he was really stressed out.” You smiled into the kiss, noticing how teasing him only made you wetter.

You hand gripped his hardness some more, focusing on the large head that could be felt through the fabric.

“Here I thought that was going to be my job tonight,” Steve’s voice was low now as he kissed you down your neck and moved the hand that was previously on your back, to your front. The shorts you were wearing rode up to tighten upon your cunt. The fabric squeezed your clit, and caused your arousal to get all over the place where your thighs met.

Steve pushed the fabric to the side, noticing how you didn’t wear panties to sleep, and started to lightly massage your clit. “Oh God,” you moaned into his mouth while arching your back.

The movement made Steve want to lay you down on your back to have easier access between your legs. Although you whimpered in slight disappointment when you didn’t feel the pressure of his thigh, that all went away when the man teased your wet entrance with his fingers before going up to your clit again.

“No panties, huh? You’re bound to be the death of me.”

“I normally don’t wear any to bed if I’m wearing shorts,” you whispered, moving yourself to feel his fingers more against your nub.

“Is it alright if I take these off?” He barely got the question out before you began to nod.

Looking at you in all your glory was absolutely mind blowing to Steve. He swears that he felt his cock twitch in excitement when he saw your arousal dripping on his sheets. The light from the lamp made you look like you were glowing, and the man was so tempted to taste what he has been craving for so long. But, he took it slow, circling your clit faster and faster as he leaned down to kiss you deeply. As every moan was swallowed by him, Steve began to thrust himself upon the side of your hip to satiate his arousal.

The moment he stopped kissing you for a moment, he wordlessly looked you in the eye, teasing your entrance now with his fingers. With a nod and smile through bitten lips, you gave him full permission to fill your hole that has been desperately throbbing around nothingness.

“Feels so good, Stevie. Keep doing that, please,” you groaned as he fingered you deeper and deeper.

“Are you close, dove? Are you gonna come? You’re so tight, can barely fit these two fingers,” Steve teased as he kissed your neck to make you moan louder.

“More — need more.” The grip you had on his hair became tighter as you pushed yourself down on his hand, nearly fucking yourself on his fingers. Feeling so stretched out was a brand new experience. You were never one to masturbate, even when everyone mentioned it was so much fun. Everything from seeing a hot guy at the mall, a rockstar who was shirtless on the cover of a magazine, or the angle of a showerhead accidentally focusing on a sweet spot — none of those experiences ever happened in your life. In truth, nothing ever made you curious enough to even try to see if other things would have a similar effect. But something about this night made you want to experience it all with Steve.

The man quickened his pace with his fingers, using one hand to thrust into you while the other massaged your clit sweetly. Your moans echoed through the room as you arch your back in ecstasy. The feeling of Steve’s lips on your throat made you want to thrust against his hand harder, but you were too overwhelmed to move your hips in tandem. Instead, you lifted up your shirt and started to squeeze your lonely nipples.

You aren’t sure what took over — all you knew was that everything felt so good.

“Fuck, you really do have the most perfect tits,” Steve whispered to himself when he got up from your neck. He felt your movements and thought something was wrong. Instead, he was greeted by the sight of your swollen nipples, eager for some sort of touch. When he saw your fingers squeeze your right nipple, he could not handle it anymore and dove down to suck on them, leaving marks on your smooth skin.

“Steve, everything you’re doing feels so good,” you moaned.

“Are you gonna come for me, baby? I know you can do it.”

And you did. Loudly. Just those words, working in tandem with his fingers and mouth, were more than enough to make you orgasm into oblivion. Steve had two fingers inside of you whilst his thumb was massaging your clit in small circles. You barely had the strength to tell him how good it felt since you were shaking below him in pleasure. All you could do was grasp Steve’s hair as he kissed one nipple of yours to the next. It was your very first orgasm, and you were welcoming it with open arms.

“So nice —” you whimpered incoherently.

Steve kissed you, swallowing in your moans of ecstasy. “I’m never gonna get tired of that sound,” he teased as he took out his fingers from inside of you and just massaged your clit as you got down from your high.

“So much better than reading a book,” you giggled as your body calmed down.

“Maybe we gotta find you crazier books then,” Steve smiled with you while kissing your soft lips.

The kiss became deeper as you embraced one another. Your friend found his way on top of you which felt so surreal. Throughout your friendship, you never believed that some of your naughty dreams that you pushed to the side, would ever come true. Steve was having the same thoughts; however, he never pushed those dreams to the side. More likely, he would take care of any hard problem that was in between his legs. But, kissing you only made him throb harder. Especially now that he knows what your pussy felt like on his fingertips,

“Again — I can take more,” you whispered between kisses.

“Needy girl, you really want to?” Steve asked, making sure this wasn’t a dream for him now.

“Mhm, yes, what if we slipped it in?” your hand moved down his body and to the waistband of his pants. Without even stretching the fabric, you looked up at him with sweet eyes. “Would it feel good too? Maybe just the tip?”

Fuck.

Steve needed to calm himself down. He was already on the verge of cumming in his pants, watching you orgasm on his sheets. Even now, as the remnants of your arousal covered his fingers, he wondered how it would feel against his hardness. But, Steve couldn’t do that to you now. Especially knowing the fact that it would be your first time. However, the lust that clouded your eyes as you pouted up at him, was convincing him slowly.

The conflict on Steve’s face was so apparent that you whispered: “oh, we don’t need to—”

“Fuck, I want to,” Steve kissed you sweetly. “Are you sure, baby? Sure that you can take it all?”

“Yes, yes, I promise you that I can,” you smiled up at him and then bit your lips out of a mixture of excitement and nervousness.

You kissed one another again, not being to stand the time your lips were apart from each other’s. As you did so, Steve brought his hands under your sweater to nearly rip it off of you — leaving you beautifully naked on his plaid sheets. His hands were calling to him, telling him that one day he needed to take a picture of you like this. But, there is going to be another time, surely. Right now, he wanted to satiate your body’s cravings. As you stared up at him and squeezed your thighs together, Steve was truly about to combust.

“It’s kinda cold,” you giggled as you stared down at your hardened nipples. Then, you sat up slightly to meet his lips again, but not without whispering close to his mouth. “Can I take off your clothes too?”

With those words, Steve helped you take off his tight shirt and sweatpants. You’ve been teasingly touching it throughout tonight’s escapades; however, seeing his hardness in all its glory, stunned you. It was a lot thicker and longer than you initially believed. In truth, there were countless moments where you had gotten a glimpse of his size. Like the times he invited you to his backyard to swim, and he always seemed to choose tighter swim shorts every week. Or the one time he forgot to bring a towel into the shower so you brought one to him, thinking that he was going to keep the shower curtain atop his body for some modesty; however, when you were on your way out the room, he let go of the plastic curtain a bit too early and you saw a definite outline from the side of your eyes. Every single time, no matter how crazy the situation may be, you felt warm all over your body. This time, however, seeing the way it hung and the precum leaking out of it, you were hypnotized to say the least.

“One sec, dove,” Steve whispered as he saw that you were about to touch it. You looked to see that he bent his body to reach his nightstand and take out a little clear bottle.

“What is that?” You asked innocently as you began to stroke him while he wasn’t looking.

“I-it’s — fuck — it’s lube. We could use a little if you wanted to,” Steve said seriously before bringing a hand to your arousal and massaging your clit sweetly. “Not sure if we will need much,” he teased.

Steve kissed you again, having you lay down on the bed fully. He thrusted his hardness against your pussy a few times, seeing how you reacted to the feeling. You adored it, mewling every time the head of his cock coincided with your clit. In truth, you both could have been doing this for the rest of the night until you two came; however, you were throbbing around nothing and you craved to feel more stretched out than with Steve’s fingers.

You broke away from the kiss, eyeing the bottle of lube curiously, before Steve grabbed it and put it in your hands to look at closer. There were times you saw a similar bottle in the drug store and noticed they were next to the condoms and pregnancy tests. You saw that there were big bold letters on the front: ‘for her pleasure,’ which confused you slightly. But, you decided to give it a try anyways — it must be something good, you guessed.

“Let's use a little, Steve.”

“Yeah, sure. You want me to put it on?” He asked sweetly as he outstretched his hand.

“N-no, I wanna try something,” you smiled up at him before putting a dollop of the gel in your right hand. “You’re so big, Stevie. You’re gonna stretch me out so good.”

Your words were hypnotizing the man above you as you circled your hand over his cock and stroked a few times. And to think that he believed that he was to be taking the lead tonight.

“F-fuck, dove. Your hands are so soft.” Steve’s moans were making you wetter by the second. You felt your heat throb harshly around nothing, before you moved your hips upwards a little and guided his cock into you.

Just the tip — you said the words before.

But, fuck, it felt so nice that you both needed so much more. Steve stayed still above you as he watched the way you move your hips to bounce on his cock from below. Inch by inch, you thrusted yourself upon his lube-covered hardness, causing moans to echo through the room as you got stretched out.

This was so much better than you both could have ever dreamed of.

“So hard,” you whispered as you got in the last inch and took all of Steve’s cock in.

“You’re taking me so well, dove. So fucking wet,” he said as he kissed you and let you get used to the large size.

“Feels nice.”

“Tell me if you don’t like it,” Steve whispered as he kissed your lips one last time before moving his mouth down your neck and finally thrusting his hips into you.

Everything seemed to amplify ten-fold. All of the pleasure, moans, tingling, stretching — it all felt so nice. It was if you two were the only people in the world, with the sky changing from a navy blue to a bright orange. Sweet nothings were whispered into the air as you both wanted to give each other the poetic justice you deserved.

Steve kissed you every time he heard your moans get louder and louder, wanting to taste your ecstasy. He moved back and forth from kissing your lips, to your neck, to your breasts. It all made you grip his hair tightly no matter where he was focusing on your body.

“Keep going please, Steve. Everything feels so full,” you screamed incoherently.

“God, you're throbbing around me. I don’t think I can take it.” The man above you was thrusting into you at an increasingly faster pace, missing the feeling of your warm pussy every time he was even an inch out of you.

“Steve, I wanna feel you cum,” you whispered before grabbing his hair to have him stop sucking on your nipples in order to look at you.

He adored how needy you were. “Dirty little mouth, Princess.”

“Need more — need you to go faster.”

“You know I've been dreaming about this moment time and time again. Who knew all it would take is a dirty novel, isn’t that right?” Steve teased as he reached town and pinched your clit playfully.

“You’ll never regret driving me to the bookstore from now on,” you giggled in between whimpers.

In truth, you didn’t notice the way you were moving yourself upwards to meet his thrusts. It made Steve bite his lip to stop himself from cumming inside of you prematurely. “Dove, you're taking me so well — fuck — better than I’ve ever imagined,” he moaned.

“What have you imagined? What were we doing?” you asked it so innocently, stroking his chest as he continued to thrust into you.

Where did you learn how to do that? — was what he really wanted to ask. Instead, his mind started to blurt out his fantasies.

“Sometimes I’d have you like this: fucked out and cock drunk in the middle of the night. Other times it would be me bending you over while you’re studying. Always wearing those tiny skirts with the slit.”

“For you, I wear it for you. I know the yellow skirt is your favourite, isn’t it?” You teased him now.

You always noticed the way he would ask you pick things up from the floor, mention that your shoes were untied while he was standing behind you, or the way he would always take off a piece of lint from the back of your skirt — even if you had just used a lint roller on it a few moments before. He loved the way the fabric would sway, and you loved the way he looked at you. It made you feel so warm even on the windiest and coldest of days.

One thing was for certain, it definitely felt like such a tease in comparison to how your heart and body felt right now.

“You little minx,” Steve moaned as he thrusted into you faster.

“Do you think I don’t imagine you ripping my skirt into a million pieces every time you stare at me?” the words fell from your lips breathily while Steve’s pace increased more and more. “You’re not so good at recognizing mirrors in front of you when you’re staring at the back of my tiny skirt, huh?”

“God, you like it when I’m being your perv, naughty girl,” Steve stated.

“Makes me feel nice. Just like this.”

Just then, Steve made sure that his thrusts and massages on your clit were working in tandem with the way your pussy was throbbing on his cock. He could tell with the way you were arching your back more and closing your eyes, that you were bound to orgasm soon. “You’re so beautiful, dove. So beautiful and taking me so well.”

“Oh my—” your voice sounded so sweet as you looked up at him with desperation in your eyes.

“That’s it, let it happen,” Steve grunted, making sure to stop himself from cumming so that he could time it with yours.

“Faster, please,” you nearly screamed now as everything was hitting you in all the perfect spots.

Steve took that as his sign to move faster: from his hands to his hips. He loved to see the way you were reaching your climax on his cock — an image he would never get out of his mind for the rest of his life. You were squeezing his hardness tighter and tighter, with your moans getting louder in tandem. And so, Steve angled his cock upwards to try and hit your sweetest spot inside of you.

And he did.

Good god, he did.

“That’s it, that’s my dove.” He chanted over and over as you were shaking beneath him, orgasming harder than you did previously.

“S-Steve, fuck.” You rarely swear, but to know that he was the one to cause this little word to fall from lips with such grace — it was the final straw for Steve.

He began to cum inside of you, your pussy milking him with each thrust. All of his arousal was filling you up to the point where it started to spill out and glisten all over your thighs. “So tight,” he whimpered above you.

For a few moments, you both came down from your highs. With a few thrusts and kisses, you allowed your bodies and heart rates to calm down as one. It was beautiful and so bewitching to experience it all. You weren’t so sure what it would be like now. Being friends for so long meant that you both knew so much about each other. However, now, you two seemed to see a lot of each other too. There was no turning back to what it was before. Not after everything felt so good in this way.

You both looked into each other’s eyes before kissing sweetly, enveloping each other in one last kiss before breaking apart under the morning sun’s rays.

“You are so beautiful,” Steve whispered as he moved to lay next to you.

“So are you,” you smiled while cuddling close to him.

“Are you alright?” He asked sweetly, kissing your forehead in the process.

“Yeah, I guess I feel a little sore,” you giggled as you moved your head upwards to feel your lips on his again.

Steve gasped into the kiss, breaking it apart to get some tissues from his nightstand. “Do you need a bath, some water, or food?” He asked whilst wiping the remnants of his climax away on your thighs.

“I’m fine, Steve, I promise.” You smiled as he looked at you with the biggest hazel gaze.

Truthfully, you looked like a goddess glowing next to him with the dawn reflecting on your skin. He wasn’t sure if there were enough words in any dictionary to describe your beauty. Maybe not even from the book you were reading before bed. “How about you sleep for a bit and then when you wake up, I’ll have all your favourite breakfast foods on the kitchen table?” The offer was so tempting coming from Steve’s lips.

“Hmm, what if I want to help you?” You giggled. You weren’t sure if you wanted to be separate from him for too long. The place in between your thighs was begging for his touch again. “There is a scene in that book where the prince and the lady were eating breakfast and then—”

You stopped speaking when you saw Steve reach behind him to find the novel on his nightstand, before flipping pages in the book to see what you were talking about. “Maybe you should read this story to me another day and I can help you every time you get really excited during a scene,” he winked.

“Another day?”

“Yes, for now, we could get started on writing the beginning of our newest story, dove. If you would like to, of course.” Steve whispered the words as he hovered his lips above yours, teasing you with each breath that tickled your skin.

“I’d really, really love that,” you smiled up at him, bringing your arms around his neck in the process.

If one thing was for certain after tonight: both of you found comfort and love in each other’s arms — and later on in a few different sections of the book store too.

-:-:-:-:-

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veryberryjelly · 3 months

Note

Could do you possibly do numbers 23,24&28 from the prompt list with Felix catton by any chance??:) also congrats on 1k!!

felix catton x fem!reader

prompts : " using your thumb to swipe slowly across their lower lip " + " nibbling on their ear gently "

𝐉𝐎𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝟏𝐊 𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑

your relationship with felix was no secret.

in fact with the amount of pda the two of your exhibited, it was practically the opposite.

always with his hand on your back or your head on his shoulder.

it had gotten to the point where your friends had brought it up to ask you to stop because it was disturbing to watch.

so the two of you dialled it back when you were in public, but when you were alone it was a free for all.

like when he brought you home to saltburn for summer holidays.

the drive there was spent with his hand rested on your thigh as you listened to music and chatted.

the night you arrived was spent with you safely caged in his arms as you slept.

and the first full day was enjoyed by the lake, the both of you lounging on the warmth of the pier over the water.

you laid on your front, your fingertips brushing over the surface of the water every so often.

you were certain that felix had fallen asleep beside you, until you felt his cold hand resting on the small of your back, causing you to turn your head towards him.

a dopey smile was situated on his lips which caused an almost identical one to settle on your own lips.

his hand lifted to cup your cheek, his thumb tracing underneath your bottom lip, pulling them apart before pressing a kiss onto your lips.

" you look fucking sexy in that bikini, baby " his words caused a smile to spread across your lips before you kissed him again.

his hand shifted to your waist, pulling you onto his lap as the two of you sat up, your lips never breaking apart from each others.

his hands drifted down to your waist, his fingers sliding under the strings that held your bikini bottoms together.

you pulled your lips away from his, only to rest your head on his shoulder and whisper in his ear.

even with no one outside to see, this wasnt something you wanted anyone else to walk out and find you doing.

you opened your mouth to speak but before you could, you felt felix's lips trailing a path from your shoulder up to the spot behind your ear.

a small pain brought you out of the haze he was creating for the two of you.

a soft nibble on your ear which caused a small giggle to slip from your lips.

" take me upstairs, lex. i dont want farleigh to come out here and interrupt us "

" as you wish, lovely " he said simply, standing from the dock and picking you up in one movement.

your legs remained wrapped around his torso and your arms around his neck as he took the two of you inside, a constant trail of kisses being pressed onto his neck.

when you nipped at his earlobe, you felt him speed up the stairs.

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misshoneyimhome · 2 months

Note

I’m OBSESSED with your prompt list & I want to request everything for Jack, but don’t want to spam you 😭 so I’ll do one to start hahaha

Can you do Jack with the prompt “Can you help me with my tie?” / “Can you zip up my dress for me?” — either one or both, whatever you’re feeling :)) <3

Babe, feel free to spam me anytime 😉 Although, I'm still practicing my writing skills when it comes to Jack H 🤍

But of course - though I did do a bit of a combo of the two 🌺 and in the end, it turned out to be nothing but sweet fluff

Hope you enjoy it 🤍

Word count; 2.1K

[bestfriend!Jack x reader] - again, I know 🙈

・✶ ｡ﾟ

As one of Jack Hughes’ closest friends, you were simply there for him through thick and thin. From the early days of his hockey career to then, as he’d become a big name in the NHL, you saw every success and setback, always giving him your unwavering support and encouragement.

Your bond with the Devils' star player was definitely something special, built on trust, mutual respect, and shared experiences. Together, you faced the ups and downs of life in the spotlight, as well as found solace in each other's company amidst the chaos of the hockey world.

And to put it bluntly, it wasn’t uncommon for people to mistake you as a couple. Although you tried not to post anything on social media, rumours often circulated. Even family members assumed there was something more to the story when he brought you over at almost every holiday family gathering. However, you were nothing more than his best girl friend. Which to him was probably the highest status one could ever get.

Despite Jack's busy schedule and the demands of his career, you just always remained a constant presence in his life, providing stability and comfort. Whether it was cheering him on from the stands at games or simply being there to listen after a tough loss, you were always there when he needed you most.

You even saw every girl who tried their luck with him, and all of them failed to stick around. Though you weren’t really sure why that was always the case. To you Jack was a good guy, busy sure, but good overall and anyone would be lucky to be with him. However, you could also understand that often his demanding lifestyle simply became too much for anyone to handle. And after every time he showed up at your place, you were the support he needed through every breakup.

And Jack cherished your friendship immensely. With you, he could be himself without any pretence, knowing that you'd accept him exactly as he was. He could put on a facade and a guard for the rest of the world, but with you, he knew it was of no use. You always saw right through him, for better or for worse.

So, when Jack invited you to join him at the Devils’ team event, it wasn't a surprise to anyone. Spending such time together had become second nature to you both, a cherished ritual that brought comfort and joy. You'd even spent so much time with his teammates that a lot of them had grown to be your close friends as well. They were almost like the protective brothers you'd never had.

And you, of course, accepted his invitation without hesitation. So, as you got ready for the event together, you felt a sense of excitement in the air, anticipating a night filled with laughter, camaraderie, and maybe even something more.

Jack stood in front of the mirror, his face displaying frustration as he attempted to knot his tie once again. Though it was something he'd often do before a match, tonight it just didn’t seem to work out for him. The smooth fabric slipped through his fingers, refusing to cooperate despite his repeated attempts. But then, with a soft sigh, he caught a glimpse of your reflection in the doorway, a knowing smile adorning your face.

"Struggling there?" you teased, slowly moving closer to him.

Turning to you, Jack looked relieved. "Actually, yes. Could you help me with my tie?" His voice held a touch of embarrassment, a contrast to his usual confidence on the ice, which made you chuckle softly.

"Of course," you replied, closing the gap between you and reaching for the silk tie. Your fingers skilfully worked the fabric into a perfect knot in no time. And as you adjusted it, your eyes met his in the mirror, and there was an unexpected shift between you, an unspoken understanding hanging in the air.

Then once Jack had sorted his tie, his gaze lingered on you, admiring the elegant lines of your evening dress, and he simply couldn't look away, struck by how stunning you appeared.

"Wow, you look amazing, y/n/n," he murmured, his voice filled with genuine admiration.

A blush crept onto your cheeks at his compliment, a soft smile forming in response. But before you could form a reply, though, you remembered the zipper on your dress.

"Actually, I could use your help too," you confessed, your voice barely audible. Turning slightly, you presented your back to him, feeling a tiny surge of nerves at the intimacy of the request.

And without hesitation, Jack moved closer, his presence sending a wave of anticipation through you. His hands brushed lightly against your skin as he reached for the zipper, the gentle touch surprisingly sparking some kind of awareness between you.

As his fingers softly traced your back, you felt an unfamiliar desire stirring within you, drawing you both a little closer together. And unintentionally, you leaned in a little closer to him, prompting him to gently rest his palms on your waist, as for a brief moment, time stood still, and you admired each other in the mirror.

It was a moment of soft intimacy hanging in the air, and you couldn’t deny that thoughts were starting to form in your mind. Thoughts that had been there before, yet you always just shook them off, as you didn’t believe they’d mean anything - Was there truly nothing more between you and Jack, or had you been fooling yourselves this whole time?

However, with the evening's urgency weighing on both of you, the passing seconds reminded you of the time slipping away. And with a small sigh, Jack reluctantly pulled away, his hands lingering for a moment longer before he finally zipped up your dress.

"We should probably head out," he said, a hint of regret in his voice.

And you nodded in agreement, carefully stepping away from him. Yet, despite the pressing schedule, the electric tension between you remained, silently hinting at what perhaps could be.

As the night progressed, Jack found himself unable to shake the growing feelings in his heart. And if anything, they only seemed to deepen with each passing moment, fuelled by seeing you effortlessly mingling with the other guests at the event.

"She's looking good, huh?" Luke's voice suddenly snapped Jack out of his thoughts, bringing him back to reality.

"Yeah, she really does..." he replied softly, his gaze still fixed on you from across the room, drawn in by the warmth of your smile.

And Luke couldn’t suppress his amusement and grinned knowingly, nudging Jack with a playful elbow. "So, are you going to make a move or what?"

"What do you mean?" Jack pretended innocence, though his eyes revealed the truth of his emotions.

And Luke had to roll his eyes, not buying Jack's act. "Come on, man, you're practically drooling over her right now."

"I'm not drooling... I'm just admiring how great my best friend looks..." Jack tried to defend himself, but he knew it was futile.

"Sure, sure, but we both know that you're totally checking her out!" Luke laughed, finding the situation more than amusing.

For months, if not years, Luke had had a bet with Quinn about when you and Jack would finally admit your feelings for each other. And not just as best friends. It was obvious to everyone how both of you always tried to act calm and nonchalant, however, there were often hints of something lingering in the back of your minds. Yet, none of you took the step to admit it.

And amidst the brotherly banter, Nico suddenly interrupted with a grin at the sight of their exchange. "What's going on? Who's checking out who?"

"Oh, just Jack ogling y/n," Luke teased, earning a chuckle from Nico.

"I'm not... ogling her!" Jack protested, though the teasing only fuelled his growing attraction.

"Well, I wouldn't blame you if you were. I mean, she looks really hot tonight," Nico chimed in with a mischievous grin. "I mean, if you don't make a move on her, someone else might."

And those words seemed to hit Jack like a splash of cold water, stirring a hint of jealousy in his gut at the thought of someone else showing interest in you. Especially a teammate of his. It was as if it was the push he needed to finally gather the courage to act on his true feelings.

So, as the event neared its end, Jack started to feel a little nervous about speaking his mind, which wasn’t usual for him. But as he prepared to bid farewell, determination surged within him. He simply couldn't let the night pass without expressing his feelings, without taking a chance on what could be.

Standing by the exit of the venue, Jack took a deep breath, preparing himself for what he was about to say. He then reached out, gently taking your hand in his, sending a jolt of electricity through you with his touch.

"Y/n, there's something I need to tell you," he began, his voice trembling slightly with nerves. "Tonight... tonight was different for me.”

“Jack, what do you mean?” you flashed him a crooked smile, slightly unsure what he was trying to say.

“I mean, I think… I think I realised that I have feelings for you, more than just friendship."

His words hung in the air, the weight of them palpable. And as you looked at him, your heart was beating faster than you’d ever experienced. You had to swallow hard as you processed his confession. But then he continued.

"I know this might come as a surprise, and I completely understand if you don't feel the same way," he added with a crooked smile, his gaze searching yours for any hint of a response. "But I couldn't let tonight end without at least trying to tell you how I fe-"

Interrupting him with a surge of confidence, you reached up and tenderly held his face in your hands, pulling him into a gentle kiss. And in that moment, as your lips were connected, Jack felt a rush of emotion engulf him, a sense of completeness and contentment unlike anything he had ever known.

There was a comfortable warmth spreading through him as his mind processed your actions, and though almost completely frozen, he still managed to respond with his hands finding your hips.

And as you slowly parted from the kiss, his heart couldn’t stop racing with a mix of excitement and relief. He looked into your eyes, trying his best to read your thoughts.

"Y/n, I... I," he started, uncertainty evident in his voice.

But you simply smiled softly, your fingers tracing his cheek. "Jack, I've been feeling the same way," you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. "I just didn't know how to say it."

Relief flooded through Jack, his tension easing as he released a breath he hadn't realised he was holding. "Really?" he asked, disbelief tinting his voice.

You nodded, a shy smile gracing your lips. "Yes, really."

And suddenly, it was like a giant wave of happiness washed over Jack, filling him with a warmth he hadn't felt in ages. Without another word, he pulled you into his arms, holding you close as if he never wanted to let go.

"Shit, then I’m really happy I told you," he murmured into your hair, his voice brimming with gratitude.

"Me too," you replied with a light chuckle, planting a kiss on his chest. "I've wanted to tell you for so long, but I just didn’t want to risk… you know, our friendship in case you didn’t feel the same."

“Yeah… I guess I’ve just sort of realised… sorry it took so long,” he added with a sweet chuckle.

“Oh, you know, better late than never.”

And wrapped in each other's embrace, Jack knew this was where you belonged. Looking into your eyes, he vowed to do whatever it took to make you happy, to build a future together filled with love and laughter.

Meanwhile, a few feet away, Luke and Nico observed the sweet interaction between the two of you. And with a heartfelt chuckle, Luke turned to Nico with a smug expression.

“Guess I can call Quinn and tell him I won the bet then.”

“What was the bet on?” Nico inquired with a chuckle.

“Oh, just that he said they wouldn’t admit anything before one of them was in a serious relationship,” Luke explained. “But I didn’t think they’d ever get that far.”

“And clearly, you were right,” the captain let out a deep laugh.

#my asks #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes x reader #new jersey devils imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine

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houseofripley · 3 months

Note

hello :) I have fanfic idea. So how about reader comes over to Rhea’s house and it’s snowing so reader has to stay longer because of the snow storm but Rhea pulls out the game dunk desires (a spicy card game) and things get heated ;) (PLZ SMUT AND FLUFF ENDING🙏🏾🙏🏾🙏🏾🙏🏾) anyways bye bye 👋

Locked In.

Rhea Ripley x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS: 18+ SMUT, Thigh Riding, Spanking, Strap-On Riding, Strapwarming, Slight Manipulation??? WORD COUNT: 2,773 A/N: literally started working on this the second i saw this. loved this prompt

“Hello hello! I’m here!” You called out as you let yourself into your friend Rhea’s home. “You better not be robbing me, I have a knife!” Rhea joked from the kitchen.

You approached the woman finishing cutting up a watermelon. “You need to learn how to lock your door Rhe-Rhe.” Rhea set her knife down and turned to face your direction, flexing her arms. “Have you seen these guns? No one could stand a chance,” she said before putting the chopped up fruit in a bowl. “Also I left it unlocked for you, it’s fucking freezing out there. I didn't wanna make you wait in the cold.”

“What a gentleman,” You teased as you patted her back. The both of you made your way into the living room before plopping yourselves into the couch. “I swear people completely forget how to drive the second they see a couple of snowflakes.” You grumbled while a chuckle came from Rhea.

The two of you had spent the past few months spending bits of your free time together growing your friendship closer. But the past few weeks Rhea had been begging you to come to her place nearly everyday. She also became more possessive over you, you noticed how jealous she got two nights ago when you went out with your group of friends. Rhea only talked to you the entire night and would tense up whenever you spoke to anyone other than her.

“Now why was I dragged to your humble abode today?” You questioned as the snow fell outside the large window several feet behind you. Rhea gave you a big cheesy smile before saying “Board games!”

You groaned “Will you ever get bored of forcing me to play your old people games everyday?” You complained to the woman. “You know you love it,” Rhea claimed before adding on “I just want to finish one last episode of my show.” As Rhea began watching her show, you stared at the dark twilight outside.

Both of you were soon disrupted by a weather alert blurting from the TV. You turned away from the window and looked over at Rhea whose eyes were glued to the TV screen, then turned your attention to the weather alert reading “Winter Storm – Blizzard Warning: In Effect 6 PM Through 11 AM – No Travel Advised.”

“Shit,” You mumbled looking at your watch. 5:28 PM. “I should get out of here before the roads get too fucked.” You said as you stood up. Rhea quickly grabbed your hand “No stay, I don’t want you driving out there. The roads are probably slippery already, I’d feel awful if I made you go home in this weather.” She coaxed.

“I’ll be okay Rhea, I really don’t wanna be a burden.” You said looking down at her. “I want you to stay.” Rhea stated, grabbing your other hand. The pair of you studied each other's faces before you nodded “If you insist…” You mumbled while the woman smiled and let go of your hands.

As the last few minutes of Rhea’s show played she made her way to the kitchen and grabbed a handful of beer bottles to place on the coffee table. “If we're gonna be stuck here we gotta at least get buzzed.” Rhea voiced as she made her way to her closet which housed all her games.

You sat on the floor in front of the sofa as Rhea brought back an assortment of Monopoly, Skip-bo, and Connect 4.

“You ready to get your ass beat?” Rhea taunted, causing you to roll your eyes. “In your dreams, Ripley.” You bantered. Rhea winked at you before taking a swig of her beer.

The woman had beat you in both Monopoly and Skip-Bo. “I need some damn wine.” You grumbled as you stood up.

You poured two glasses of the first red wine you noticed then brought them out to the living room. “Thank you, beautiful.” Rhea smirked, her compliment catching you by surprise leading your cheeks to flush.

“You’re cheating!” Rhea accused after multiple rounds of her losing to you in Connect 4. You made a sarcastic angry expression “It’s Connect 4 how would I cheat!?” You snickered out. “It’s gotta be rigged!” She swore. “Rhe-Rhe it’s a piece of plastic I promise it's not rigged, also it’s not my fault I’m always two steps ahead of you.” You said playfully patting her thigh.

“Not always,” Rhea muttered under her breath. You shot her a confused look, “Hm?” You hummed out. “Ah nothin’ you go pick the next game.”

Rhea scootched back onto the sofa as she watched you make your way to the closet. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion once you spotted a sealed box. You walked back to Rhea, sitting down next to her holding the box she bought just hours before you came over.

It was a card game that you never heard of, ‘Drunk Desires’ was labeled on the plain black box. “I have literally never heard of this…” You commented, Rhea gave you a look of disbelief before voicing a simple “Seriously?”

“What is it? Teach me how to play!” You urged, assuming it was a game comparable to Cards Against Humanity. “Oh I’ll teach you how to play,” She purred out as she opened the box. “All you have to do is draw a card and do what it tells you, if you don’t you have to take a drink…but only draw the white cards first.” Rhea instructed, scooting closer to you.

The game seemed simple enough so you took a hold of the white card on top of the deck.

“Tell your game partner what you adore most about them.” You read out, you looked at Rhea smiling. “Ummm, I like your constant attitude…and big strong muscles.” You giggled out. “Oh yeah?” Rhea took a loose grip of your upper arm, her thumb running up and down your skin caused your hairs to stick up.

Rhea used her free hand to pick up a card that read ‘Tell your game partner a dirty secret.’ “I think my little secret will remain a secret until later,” She grinned.

“Now tell me why I can’t know now?” You pushed.

“I'll tell you later…I promise” Rhea offered. “Hmm, you gotta drink and tell me later.” You persuaded her, she shrugged before taking a sip of her wine.

You both took turns pulling seemingly simple yet flirty cards, you both had answered nearly every question. The drinks you both previously consumed had obviously built onto the tension the two of you had building over the past few months.

Rhea’s hand slid onto your thigh as she urged you to grab a black card. “Have a three minute kissing contest, the winner drinks.” You stuttered looking over at Rhea, the both of you staring into each other's eyes. Your breath hitched slightly, you weren't expecting the game to take a twist down this road. “I-I’m sorry, you can take a drink if you don't want to, no need to worry.” Rhea assured you.

“No, I want to.” You confessed quietly as you slowly straddled the buff woman. Rhea grinned, “You have no idea how fucked up I am over you,” Rhea whispered as you rested your forehead against hers.

“Fuck, what type of game have you gotten me into…” You muttered, your hands gripping on Rhea’s shoulders. Lust had taken control of the both of you. You weren't sure who dived into the other first, but the one thing you were sure about is how intoxicating that first taste of your closest friend was.

Messy kisses worked to sync together while Rhea’s hands explored your hips. Both of your tongues mashed together while light groans escaped the back of your throat when Rhea began grinding your hips against her lap. Your hands found their way tangled into Rhea’s hair as her tongue investigated your mouth.

Rhea’s lips traveled down from your jawline to your neck, her teeth bit down on your sensitive skin before pulling away licking her lips. You could tell Rhea had been waiting ages for this. “I think we both deserve a drink for that.” Rhea murmured after prying herself off of you.

Once you had both set your glasses down you reached over to grab Rhea a card. Rhea bit down on her lip before reading “Both you and your partner must remove a clothing item of the other's choice.” She paused for a moment, “Let’s get you out of those pants, pretty girl.” You obeyed and stood up from her lap, you let Rhea pull the waistband down and off your legs. Her hands caressing your legs for a few moments as she admired you.

You eagerly pulled the woman's shirt off before tossing it onto the opposite end of the sofa. “We have all night sweetheart, what are you in such a hurry for hm?” Rhea teased.

You bent over, grabbing your second black card that read ‘Go into another room and send a naughty selfie to your partner.” Protecting the card in your hand you let the woman know that you’ll be right back before hurrying off to her bathroom.

Once locked in the bathroom you slipped your hoodie and shirt off. You leaned against the wall posing and snapped a photo of your body in the mirror before sending it to Rhea. You added a text simply stating “Missing you in here. :(“

You knew your message had been seen when you heard a yell from the other room, “Get your ass back in here!” Rhea demanded. You decided to stay inside the bathroom, curious as to how she’d take it. “I know you heard me, I don’t like waiting.” The woman's voice approached.

Rhea had pulled her next card and slid it under the door. ‘Take your partner’s underwear off without using hands.’ was displayed. “You got two options, sweetheart. You could come out now and have some fun with me or you can stay in there and I’ll go to bed without you.” She threatened.

You reluctantly opened the door, Rhea caught you by surprise as she threw you over her shoulder. “Good choice.” She mumbled out.

“Now be a good girl for me and you’ll get what you need.” The woman warned you as she laid you back into the sofa. “I’ll be the best girl for you.” You promised as she kneeled in between your legs. Her lips smirked while kissing on your inner thighs, a thread of whimpers escaped from your throat. She began to bite and pull at your panties, using her hands to keep your legs open for her. As your panties fell to your ankles, Rhea’s finger struck a single swipe up your folds, causing you to yelp out. “Such a sweet girl…” Rhea stated, licking her finger.

A new card was handed to you as Rhea sat down. You flipped the card around to show the woman. ‘Grind on your partner's thigh for two minutes.’ It read. Rhea spread her legs apart as you settled yourself onto her left leg. ”Atta girl” She hummed. A moaned “Shit Rhea'' left your mouth once your bare core began rocking against the fabric of the woman’s jeans. The two of you connected your lips as you whimpered into Rhea’s mouth, her hands traveling around your back.

Rhea’s hands got to work unclasping your bra, sliding it down your shoulders, and discarding it.

“Such a wet girl for me,” Rhea pulled away from your lips as she muttered while your sweetness leaked through her jeans.

You both knew you were past the point of no return. You needed each other…and you needed each other fast.

You whimpered as Rhea pulled you up off her leg. “Shh, give me one second and I promise I’ll make you feel so good.” She reassured you while tugging off her jeans to reveal she had been packing the whole night. Rhea knew tonight was gonna be the night you finally screamed her name.

“Come sit on my cock baby.” Rhea murmured, helping you align your hips with hers. Your head fell back as you began sinking onto her. A whispered “Rhea,” came from your mouth as you settled at the bottom of her strap. You slowly rocked your hips back and forth as you let your walls adjust to her size.

As you began slowly bouncing up and down her you threw your head into Rhea’s shoulder. Your hands clinged to the woman’s biceps. “So big…Rhea” You whined out, your nails digging into Rhea’s skin.

“Fuck!” Rhea groaned under her breath. “Taking me like such a good girl.” She complimented while her hands guided your hips to bounce faster. Your hands lifted Rhea’s bra off her chest. Whimpers filled the room while your hips traveled up and down Rhea’s length.

“That’s it…so good.” Rhea quietly reassured you. She did not expect how sensitive you’d be, the smallest movements leaving you overwhelmed.

Tears formed in your eyes as Rhea’s hands held you down, forcing you to rock your hips against her. You moaned against the woman’s shoulder, your clit rubbing against the leather of her strap-on. “Feels so good doesn't it baby,” Rhea comforted.

Your teeth clamped down on her shoulder once her hands guided you to bounce on her length again. “I know princess,” was said before a kiss was planted on your forehead. “You’re doing so good for me.” Was whispered in your ear. A loud yelp came from you as Rhea’s hands striked down on your ass.

Rhea’s hands tightly gripped your ass leading your hips to rock forward and backward as you bounced on her. You rested your head against Rhea’s cheek, tears escaping your eyes. Your walls tightened around her as your cries turned to screams. “I need you to cum all over me baby.” Rhea urged you.

“Rhea!! Fuck!” You screeched as your orgasm peaked. “God!” You yelped. Rhea helped stabilize you once your legs began shaking eventually she let you sink onto her length after your legs gave out.

Rhea’s hands brought your face to match hers, planting a long kiss on your lips while your final tears fell from your eyes. “You were perfect.” She praised, wiping your tears. She let you move your head to rest on her shoulder as you let out a pitiful whimper. “Shhh…it's all okay baby.” She quieted her voice, her fingers tracing in your hair.

The woman let you rest on her as you occasionally delivered weak kisses to her neck. “I got you darling…you have no idea how long I've been waiting to hold you.” She whispered, wrapping her arms around you. After letting you rest a while she lifted your hips off her length, shushing you as you whined. She slipped off her strap before lifting you off the sofa. “We gotta get you in the bath, pretty girl.”

Your back laid against Rhea’s chest while you bathed together whispering sweet nothings. “Hey…what was that secret you were gonna tell me earlier?” Your question broke the comfortable silence.

Rhea laughed before admitting “That wasn’t a real weather alert earlier.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” She had confused you.

“It’s some year old year old recording I found. I've been keeping an eye on the forecast and chose today as the perfect day. All I had to do was make sure it was playing before you got here.” Rhea grinned whilst coating your hair with conditioner.

You scoffed out. “And you think all that was easier than asking me on a date?” You teasingly asked. “Where’s the fun in all that?” Rhea quipped.

“You bought that game just for tonight, didn’t you?!” You interrogated Rhea. Her silence told you everything you needed to know. “You bought that game cause you were scared to make a move huh.” You accused.

“Woah hold on!” Rhea protested, “I was not scared, I just wanted to try something new.” She tried deflecting.

“You’re not fooling me Ripley, you’re a major softie. All clingy and jealous!” You teased. “I am not clingy at all!” Rhea fussed.

“Rhea, we are in the same tub and you are clinging onto me for dear life, what’s your excuse for that, hm?” Rhea tightened her grip on you more “I’m keeping you warm of course!” She chuckled.

You were absolutely right, Rhea was so infatuated with you she wouldn’t let you out of her sight until she had to go back to work a week and a half later. She went as far as trying to beg for you to be able to travel with her. Now that Rhea got to hold you, she never planned on letting go.

#rhea ripley angst #rhea ripley fanfic #rhea ripley oneshot #rhea ripley x reader #rhea ripley x you #rhea ripley smut #wwe smut

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jo-harrington · 4 months

Text

Disaster Preparedness (Eddie Munson x Store Manager!Reader)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: Maybe it's time to put a name to whatever it is you and Eddie are...but not without some misunderstandings first.

Previous Part: Peak Sales Hours

Warnings/Themes: AU where the Upside Down doesn't terrorize Hawkins. Reader works at the Claire's at StarCourt. Eddie works at TapeWorld. Angst, Jealousy, Fluff, and a series of unfortunate misunderstandings with a sweet ending.

Note: A day late, but what can you do. This was sort of always a pre-planned part of the Store Manager Verse (and actually set at Christmas Time at StarCourt) but a very special prompt made me switch it up. So without further ado @allthingsjoeq and @bettyfrommars please consider this collection of Holiday shenanigans inspired by I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus my take on Prompt 14 from your Holiday Prompt Party:

You can tell that the mall Santa is a babe under that beard, and you decide to get closer to investigate.

With a little twist...

You can find my masterlist here for more featuring our resident Store Manager and all of my other writing.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

---

The holiday season wasn't Eddie's favorite, per se.

Just like Thanksgiving, it was a time to make do. Couldn't really celebrate when you were reminded of the things you'd lost or didn't have in the first place.

Still it had its high points. Cookies were great, having a little extra cash between Wayne's holiday pay and bonus and the handful of parties he'd be able to deal at, and let it be known that...Eddie Munson was a sucker for snow and always wished for a White Christmas.

And for his friends? Eddie would always muster up the Holiday Spirit and Christmas Cheer. A special one-off campaign for Hellfire, a potluck dinner with Corroded Coffin, and handmade gifts that he spent way too much time on.

This year...working at StarCourt brought its own spin on Holiday cheer and it was a little annoying.

If he hadn't worked the closing shift on the 30th, and seen all of the overnight workers and maintenance vehicles that rolled out of the service corridors as he walked out, Eddie would have thought that it was magic that transformed StarCourt Mall into a true Winter Wonderland come December 1st.

Because it was night and day.

Lights were strung around every store entrance, wreaths and garland hung every 50 feet from the ceiling, soap snow fell down from special blowers in the vents onto the food court, and the space in front of Montgomery Ward suddenly contained a special gift-wrapping destination.

And suddenly the mall muzak had a festive flair to it.

It was honestly kind of sickening.

He wasn't a scrooge or anything, it was just overwhelming and appeared all at once. And after how overwhelming Black Friday had been, how was anyone supposed to cope with the bright lights, large crowds, and repetitive music? He intentionally started turning the shop radio to a higher volume to drown out the bells jingling and carols mingling for the next few shifts after the decorations appeared.

"It's Holidazzle," you told him as he leaned against the entryway to your store--"the conversion Eddie, for God's sake!"--and watched you hang a special banner in the window, featuring the Gift of Piercing and cartoon bears ice skating around a tree.

"It's overkill," he argued.

"It's Mall Life." You climbed down from your ladder and surveyed your work with a critical eye. "You get used to the big everything that is Christmas and just deal with it, and then, come January, it all dies. We're decorating today, and next week we start wearing reindeer antlers on the sales floor. It just is what it is. Gotta get the customers into the festive spirit so they buy more before it all tapers out.

"Surprised Kyle isn't already wearing like...a Santa hat and a cheesy sweater with ornaments hanging off it or something."

And Eddie wasn't sure if you were somehow clairvoyant or just knew his boss well enough, but that's exactly what Kyle wore to his next shift and, indeed, every shift for the remainder of December.

Santa hats in every color--and he'd bought hats for everyone else in the store--and if there wasn't a Santa hat, there was tinsel in his hair. A piece of glittery garland strung around his neck and a mug full of cocoa constantly present in his hand, even when he was on the sales floor. And, somehow, a different cheesy holiday sweater on every single shift he had.

Where did he even get them?

"Listen," he clapped a hand on Eddie's shoulder and shoved a candy cane in his hand. "I know you're Mr. Non-Conformity, but in this instance, you just gotta go with the flow. No one wants to give their money to the Grinch. But Jolly Old Saint Kyle? He's who they're trusting for their Christmas Gifts. You catch me?"

---

So Eddie tried.

He did. He tried.

For all of 3 days.

He wore the hat, he played the game, he did his spiel about gift certificates and BOGO, and he didn't even get a treat at the end of his shifts because you worked the opposite schedule from him. With school and all it was hard...

He just wanted to kiss you. Was that too much to ask for? It wouldn't be the most romantic place but he figured that he could set out some mistletoe by the baler and trick you into a festive smooch when you took the cardboard out. He could do that now, except he couldn't.

...but Wednesday night you'd both be closing. You'd swapped shifts with Mindy two weeks in a row so you could go to his show last week and she could go to her kids' Christmas Recital at the elementary school this week.

He definitely planned to make his move and get his reward. And give you a little reward of your own, seeing how hard you'd been working too. He wondered if this might be the chance to officially ask you to be his girl. Everyone had already made the assumption the two of you had been dating for months...why not put a name to it? And then he could take you out on a real date.

What could possibly go wrong?

Famous last words.

With a few minutes until his fifteen, anticipation building...Mike and Dustin ran into Tape World, looking out of breath and nervous.

Eddie was finishing up a special order for a customer when he saw them out of the corner of his eye. Little assholes, lurking by the door. Mitch had tried to walk up to them and give them the spiel but they waved him off.

"We're here for Eddie."

Great. This better not be about one of them missing Hellfire on Friday.

"What do you want?" he huffed, trying to be a little patient with them since it was the holidays after all. He picked on them enough at school. "It’s busy tonight."

"Well," Dustin shifted. "We were coming to see the new Ewoks movie--" Eddie snorted and grinned at them fondly. "--and we were just killing some time, when we passed by Mom's store."

Eddie couldn't help the bark of laughter he let out with that one. He told the guys to cut it out, this...continuation of calling you Mom since Halloween.

"You guys gotta stop calling her that," he scoffed. "Steve Harrington's your Mom. Get that straight."

"Well then Mom is upstairs right now flirting with not Mom," Mike sassed, hands on his hips.

Now that gave Eddie pause. Harrington? Upstairs with you?

Flirting?

“Kissing.”

Kissing?!

"What?" Eddie's voice broke a little as he reacted. He chuckled to try and alleviate some of his own nerves. "Isn't Harrington dating someone? Pretty sure I've seen him running around with that cashier from KB Toys."

"Well it was Wicks'n'Sticks."

"But we think they broke up!" Mike piped up. "Because Steve quit Scoops last week."

"Which means we need to pay full price for movie tickets again," Dustin nodded.

"But Nancy said that Robin told her…that he got a job at Santa's Workshop," Mike thumbed over his shoulder. "And we just saw Santa upstairs with Mom and she was wiping strawberry lipgloss out of his beard."

The first thought in Eddie’s head was that you didn’t wear strawberry lipgloss.

The next was that you didn’t wear strawberry lipgloss when you kissed him. What if you wore it for Steve?

No, that was ridiculous.

But unless Santa’s Workshop was operating as a functioning kissing booth and Harrington was looking for a quick and easy fix for a bunch of housewives smooching him after their kids asked for a new bike or Hot Wheels racetrack or Tina the Talking Tabby doll…there was no explanation.

Which, alright, Eddie wouldn’t normally consider himself a jealous person. An envious person. Yeah, he might have seen a little green at the edges of his vision when the kids fawned over Steve Harrington time and again, but ever since he was brought down a few pegs—humbled—he didn’t seem like the same old douchebag from Hawkins High that he used to be.

Eddie might even say Steve was kind of alright.

But you were his girlfriend…or something…

And the jealousy and possessiveness he often mocked others for over the years, as he watched meathead jocks tighten their arms around their girlfriends shoulders as he simply walked past, suddenly overcame him.

“Mitch I’m taking my fifteen!” He called towards the back of the store and strutted out of Tape World, all while Mike and Dustin called after him, fully intending to get to the bottom of this obvious misunderstanding.

---

He planned to ask you about Harrington the moment you opened the door to the loading dock, hauling the dolly of cardboard boxes behind you.

A simple "hey sweetheart, how was your day, anyone named Kris Kringle come to bother you?" and he would have had his answer and all of his doubt would have been alleviated once and for all.

Except that as soon as you appeared--with your disheveled hair and makeup, your slumped shoulders, and your groan of weariness--your eyes got brighter and you melted at the sight of him. So happy to see him, so relieved.

Then he melted.

"God, what a night," you groaned and let the dock door slam behind you. You abandoned your cardboard and walked right into his arms where he was standing by the baler; your arms wrapped around his waist and your face nuzzled into his flannel, just the way he constantly craved. "Some lady wanted an individual gift receipt for every single item she bought. Then Chrissy almost messed up this kid's piercing. Thank God I stopped her as soon as I saw."

"Oh yeah?"

"And then I swear I'm like...I just have one of those faces where everyone comes and complains to me as they're shopping. I have to hear about everyone's life story or their relationship issues, especially this one guy..."

Eddie's ears practically perked up at that.

"This one guy?" he urged you to continue, on the edge of his proverbial seat.

"I dunno," you sighed tiredly. "Not the first time he's come to me for advice. He's a nice guy and he means well, but it just seems I'm always the one. And I'm happy to help just...not during Q4, you know? He needs to figure out how to talk to his ex on his own. And not just...come in looking for extra glossy strawberry lip gloss thinking he's gonna kiss his way back into their good graces."

Extra glossy strawberry lip gloss.

Eddie wondered if he was pushing his luck if he were to ask if this nice guy was dressed in a Santa suit.

Still his heart soared nonetheless. He should have known that it was nothing to worry about, that those little shits just put two and two together to make five, and that mom wasn't actually kissing Santa Claus.

It was just a misunderstanding.

"How was your night?" you backed away from him slightly to look into his eyes. "I feel like I haven't seen you in days."

It was like a weight on his chest had been lifted, as he stared into your sparkling eyes.

"Same old, same old," he chuckled away the doubt. "Probably worse because no one knows what they want to give as gifts for Christmas and they're not listening to me."

"How dare they not take the advice of the great God of Music!" you feigned outrage.

"Gonna give me an inflated ego, sweetheart."

"You mean you don't already have one?" you teased.

Whatever fleeting bits of doubt remained disappeared as his fingers found your sides and he tickled you as punishment for the jab. Even more so as you grabbed his face and kissed him to get him to stop.

---

You'd spent the remainder of your break on Wednesday night softly kissing on the loading dock. You held hands as he walked you back to your store. Then once the mall was closed, you continued the kissing against the side of his van in the employee lot as the rest of the cars disappeared one by one.

With one last kiss goodbye, you agreed to Christmas movies and cocoa at his place on Sunday.

But as he sauntered into the mall on Sunday morning, twirling his lanyard on his finger as he headed to Tape World, Eddie swore that the universe was mocking him--

Or it was just that trademark Munson Bad Luck.

--because with a quick glance up towards your store, he saw you, holding the gate up with one arm, talking and laughing with someone conspicuously dressed in a Santa suit.

Well, he couldn't really see the holly jolly bastard that was up there making you smile, but just a quick glimpse of red velvet and white fur and all of his doubt was back.

The two of you still hadn't put a label on your relationship yet. He'd wondered the other night as he drove home if it was a little juvenile to want to call you his girlfriend. Was it too high school? What did a real life, grown up boyfriend do? He only had TV shows to go by and he figured you'd laugh if he tried to give you his '84 class ring that was stashed in his sock drawer. In fact, he was sure of it.

But how was he supposed to get past the visceral need to be your boyfriend when you were up there being wooed into potentially becoming the new Mrs. Claus yourself?

By Santa Harrington no less.

The doubt was back with a vengeance.

Kyle--decked in red onesie pajamas, butt flap and all--clocked his woes as soon as he walked into the store.

"Don't tell me she broke up with you," he guessed as he counted up the registers for the day. "I know it's not the end of the world, but you guys barely got started. What the hell did you do?"

"I didn't do anything!" Eddie answered honestly as he restocked the front display.

"Hmmm, actually come to think of it, that might be exactly the point."

"I don't think we were ever together, if I'm being honest."

"Dumbass," Kyle chuckled under his breath. Eddie, exasperated and just needing someone to commiserate with, explained the whole thing to his boss, who simply ate it up like a gossiping housewife and then laughed louder. "No seriously, you're a dumbass. This is the Mall at Christmas, dude. You're gonna start going cross eyed if you're looking around every corner for a suspicious Santa Claus flirting with your girl.

"Why don't you save yourself some heartache and just talk to her. You know, like you should have been doing this whole time? So, one time only because you're my buddy, I'm letting you take an extra break so you can go up there and talk to her."

And Eddie knew Kyle was right: it was all about communication.

Communication, or the lack thereof, was how the two of you had gotten this far, right? You'd known each other since May? June? And had only figured out that there was some mutual attraction in...what? September if Eddie was going to be honest with himself. Two weeks ago if he wasn't.

Lack of communication, caused by self doubt and fear, cost him...months...of getting to kiss you and hold your hand. And while he cherished the time spent being your friend, he was always gonna wish he had all that time being more.

So no, he shouldn't let it draw out much longer.

---

Unfortunately, he really was a dumbass.

So instead of taking advantage of it being so early in the day that there were practically no customers in the mall to go upstairs and clear things up with you and maybe ask you out on a real date...

Eddie booked it across the mall to Santa's Workshop.

There he stood, wasting his extra break in line with the handful of proactive parents coming in early to get their family pictures with the Big Man himself.

"What's on your wish list this year?" A little boy in a tiny navy suit tugged on the leg of his jeans and asked him.

"Uh..." He was at a loss when it came to kids and his hands wrung around his lanyard. But he couldn't just leave the little guy hanging. "A new amp...and maybe a Skeletor action figure."

The boy's eyes got wide and blabbered on about his desired Castle Greyskull while his mom ran a comb through his hair.

"Eddie?"

Eddie froze and his attention shifted from the kid, up and up green velvet clad legs then torso, to a familiar cherubic face and tousled curls covered by a pointy hat.

"Gareth?" he chuckled, staring incredulously at his friend dressed as one of Santa's Helpers. "...what is this? I didn't know you..." his eyes slid down to the little boy, then back to his friend. "...were an elf."

"I was trying to keep it under the radar," he shrugged and gestured down to his costume. "Especially since they have me dressed like this. Uh....anyway, why are you in line for Santa?"

"Uhh..." Eddie scratched the back of his neck then folded his arms across his chest. "Gotta get my wishlist in before all the good gifts are taken."

Gareth narrowed his eyes in suspicion and Eddie hoped that he would just chalk it up as another one of the million things he'd seen Eddie do over the years of their friendship.

"Can I keep the picture?" Gareth finally asked mischievously. "Or was Wayne planning on sending out a special card this year?"

"Nah man," Eddie nodded, grateful not to have to answer any more...invasive questions. "It's all yours."

"Nice." Gareth held his fist out for Eddie to bump and then let the family ahead of Eddie in to see Santa.

Which meant he was next.

Now, Eddie wasn't big on confrontation, so unless he was actively thwarting bullies and deterring them from picking on his friends, he wasn't the type to pick a fight. He also wasn't the type to have a calm and rational discussion and get to the bottom of a problem either.

So this was new territory for him.

What would he say?

What could he say?

"Now listen here Harrington," he muttered. "You...she...I..."

He ran a hand over his face and shook his head.

"I heard you're having some relationship issues," he tried again. "But you can't keep sniffing around my girl. My girl? Ugh...but what if she isn't."

There were a few flashes of a camera and by that time, Gareth was back to lead him to his execution.

"Alright, young man," he snickered. "Are you ready to meet Santa?"

"Shut up," Eddie shoved him and stalked along the carpet into the little photo area.

He was too preoccupied with the task at hand, too consumed with thoughts of you laughing with Steve Harrington and exactly what he was gonna say, that he didn't notice that it wasn't Steve under the beard and hat until he plopped himself directly on Santa's lap.

Santa groaned as Eddie settled himself and threw an arm over his shoulders.

"Aren't you a little too old for this Munson?" Santa deadpanned. "Or is this one of your little Hellfire pranks."

Eddie froze at the familiar voice, as years of hearing that grumbling gritty tone at Benny's and the police station and around town flashed through his memory.

"Hop?" he whispered in horror.

"Who were you expecting?" Hopper grunted.

"Why are you Santa?"

"...don't tell me you thought Santa Claus was real, kid?"

"No, I just--" Eddie stammered, looking for the right words. "I...Why?"

"I'm doing this to surprise Jane," he explained in exasperation. "Buddy of mine runs Santa's workshop and Joyce said she'd bring the kids to the mall today, maybe get a picture. So I pulled some strings. I don't know what to get her for Christmas; she's keeping her wish list under wraps."

It all started making sense for Eddie. Jane was friends with Dustin and the others so he'd seen her around Hawkins High, even though she wasn't interested in DnD. She was a good kid, if a little shy. Of course Hop was doing this for his adopted daughter, wanting to give her a perfect Christmas.

"But you...were up at Claire's earlier?" Eddie narrowed his eyes, the reason for him being there still eluding explanation.

"Because that's Jane's favorite store. I swear I'm single handedly keeping them in business with the number of earrings and scrunchies I buy every week. The manager promised she'd keep an eye out if Jane and Joyce popped in today, let me know everything Janie was looking at if this ended up being a bust."

Hopper shot Eddie a pointed glare and Eddie, correctly, looked ashamed of himself.

"Alright, less talking," the elf at the camera rolled their eyes and waved for Hop and Eddie to scoot closer. "More smiling. Say jingle!"

There was a flash and a polaroid was shoved into Eddie's hand as Hopper shooed him away.

---

"What is this?" you pulled away from Eddie's soft, warm lips as your hands felt something foreign in his back pocket.

The Year Without Santa Claus wasn't the most romantic Christmas movie, but Eddie was feeling a certain type of resentment when he had chosen the movies at Family Video, and it was mostly going ignored in favor of cuddling and kissing and sweet words.

Until your hands worked their way downward to pull Eddie's weight further into you, and you found--

"Did you go take a picture with Santa?" you giggled as you inspected the Polaroid. Eddie groaned and rested his head on your shoulder. "Can I keep this?"

"Believe it or not," he sighed, "Gareth already has dibs."

"May I ask why?"

"Because he likes to ruin my life. Pretty sure he's gonna take it to Fox Photos and get it made into t-shirts."

"No, why did you go take a picture with Santa silly," you shoved him. "It's really sweet."

He turned to look up into your eyes, to get the courage to just...tell you how silly he was being...to ask you out for fuck's sake...but the way you looked at him, the softness of your gaze, the way you reached out and pushed his bangs out of his eyes...he didn't want to ruin it all.

"I promised I was getting into the holiday spirit didn't I?" he shrugged pathetically. "Couldn't let the opportunity pass without getting photo evidence."

You stared fondly at the picture for another moment and then pressed a kiss to his forehead.

"It's perfect."

---

After Eddie had chickened out, you planned your get-togethers for the rest of December.

Or rather, the lack of them.

With finals coming up and the semester coming, and then mall hours getting later and later the closer to Christmas it got, the opportunities to hang out became sparse.

The best the two of you could unfortunately--or fortunately, depending on how you looked at it--come up with was Christmas Eve.

You'd fight off those final last-minute holiday shoppers, and come 6pm when the mall closed, you'd both be off to Benny's for the special pot roast dinner that he put up for anyone who didn't have family to go to, or didn't want to go see the family they had.

With Rick out making the rounds, and Wayne scheduled for that sweet time-and-a-half holiday double most years, Eddie usually ended up at Benny's anyway.

This year, with you, it would be perfect.

He just had to get through the next few weeks without a hiccup.

The universe, once again, decided to test him.

Mock him.

It was almost comedic at this point.

Santa was everywhere.

Of course, he would be, it was Christmastime but...everywhere in relation to you.

Thankfully, it wasn't Harrington he needed to worry about.

However, that meant it wasn't just Santa he needed to worry about.

It was all of the mall Santas.

Hop had shown his face in the red suit and beard once or twice more and scared the life out of him. Especially when Eddie walked smack into him on the way to drop an Orange Julius for you on the night you closed.

The church's community choir had spent one Saturday afternoon caroling by the Sears, all dressed as Santa Claus. As the two of you made your rounds window-shopping and chatting on your break, one of the Santas grabbed you and spun you around in a circle during a jazzy rendition of The 12 Days of Christmas where you, apparently, were the true love bestowing the many gifts.

How Eddie let a bunch of Santas serenade you before he got a chance to, he would never know. Nor would he let himself live it down.

And then one awful day, he found you sitting at your usual table in the food court with a charismatic older man in a Santa suit--sans hat or beard. The man sat in Eddie's usual seat and leaned quite close, making you look entirely uncomfortable; he couldn't help puff up his chest to ward off the intruder by the time he reached the table.

"This is Henry," you introduced as politely as you could. "He's gonna be the manager at the new Spencer's store when it opens in January."

"Figured I would do the neighborly thing and just say hi," he chuckled and looked down at his attire. "Oh? This? Figured that this would be a great way to do something nice for the community in the mean time."

"That's great," Eddie sniffed judgmentally, getting a weird feeling about this Henry. "Nice to meet you. You're in my spot though."

"Eddie!" Your eyes went wide and you bit your lip to stifle your laughter.

"Hey, nope, totally get it," Henry held his hands up and stood from the seat. "Those lunch breaks are short, especially when you want to spend them with friends and not a stranger like me. Nice to meet you guys. See you around."

Eddie dropped into his seat and you waited until Henry was well out of earshot to scold him.

"That was not nice."

"I'm not nice," Eddie grumbled. "He was looking at you weird, like he wanted to steal your soul or something. Did you not get creepy stalker murderer from him?"

"No, I totally did," you nodded. "He was like...dead behind the eyes. I know, that's awful to say. Anyway, are you feeling soft pretzels and cheese because I--"

"Are you a Santa magnet or something?" Eddie interrupted you and you looked like a deer in the headlights.

"What?" you giggled. "What do you mean?"

"I dunno," he shrugged. "Seems like they're just always around."

"It's Christmas, Eddie," you frowned in confusion. "Even I have a little Santa dress that I'm gonna wear to work. Everyone's just in the spirit."

"Yeah well..."

"I thought you were trying to get in the spirit too," you reminded him and then reached over and plucked at the fair isle sweater Kyle had gotten the whole TapeWorld team so they could match for a group picture. "Exhibit A, Mr. Grinch."

"I am trying," he whined. "It's just hard to be extra jolly when someone's always sniffing around your girl."

"Am I your girl?" you asked. You were obviously teasing him, but still...Eddie froze. "You haven't asked me if I want to be yet."

Everything inside of him was on red alert at that moment.

Evasive maneuvers? No, that was a bad idea. All power to the forward shields, which were holding but weakened. He didn't have enough firepower for this.

"No..." he replied awkwardly. "I haven't."

The way your expression dropped broke him, and he knew he had fucked up.

---

"I'm disowning you," Kyle shook his head in disappointment by the time Eddie got back from lunch. "In fact. We all are."

"Jesus Christ," Eddie groaned.

"Mitch! Paulie! Eddie's disowned."

"You can't fire him, he's closing tonight," Paulie argued.

"Not fired," Kyle pointed across the store with authority. "Disowned. And such a shame; Edward Tapeworldington, first of his name...you shall never be king."

Eddie stewed in the laughter of his coworkers.

"Why don't you ever listen to me?" Kyle threw an arm around his shoulder. "You could have asked her out right then and there. Been like 'hey you wanna be my girlfriend?' And it would have been like...the happiest day of your life. Hell, happiest day of my life. Cuz then I wouldn't have to hear you bitch about it all the time."

"Didn't know I complained that much," Eddie muttered self-consciously.

"All the time," one of the other guys chuckled.

"It's not complaining," Kyle corrected. "It's just that...we want you to be happy. As cliche as this sounds, we're like a family right? Hey, psst, all of you? Savor it, you're only gonna hear me say it once.

"If one of us is miserable, we're all miserable," he continued. "And you've been kind of a miserable piece of shit for a while, Ed. I'm sure your buddies would tell you the same thing. Lovesick puppy act's only gonna get you so much sympathy until you're the one getting in your own way."

Eddie felt his stomach turn because getting in his own way really did hit the nail on the head.

He thought about it for an eternity--really only 30 seconds--went about asking himself what had held him up for all this time. Fear of rejection obviously but even he started to think that some of the things that had gotten him so caught up were just...excuses.

Even now that he knew you liked him just the way he liked you, they were just excuses.

"So why can't I just...say something?" he finally asked.

Kyle clapped his hand down on Eddie's shoulder twice and then turned so he could head out for his own break.

"Only you can answer that question kid."

---

"Hey do you wanna go out sometime? Ugh."

So he practiced.

"So remember how we're supposed to go to Benny's for Christmas Eve? No."

For days he practiced.

"You know how the first time we went out for pizza I mentioned it wasn't a date? Well this one is. No god, you're an idiot."

Through the rest of the semester, during band practice, he even almost flubbed the lyrics at the gig at the Hideout on the Tuesday before Christmas. There were only so many days left until your dinner together at Benny's and he really wanted it to be your first official date.

But if Eddie was gonna fix this, if he was gonna ask you out, he needed to get it right.

"Hey sweetheart." He muttered as he counted down Paulie's register at the start of his closing shift. "I know I really flubbed it last time we talked but I really like you and I want to know if you'd be my girlfriend.

"We've already kissed enough for it," he added at the end and then winced.

"How about you just lose that last bit," Paulie offered beside him and signed a few receipts. "And then it's perfect."

"Yeah?" Eddie asked hopefully. "Alright. Cool. Great."

He would do it after work tonight.

"Edddiiiiieeee!!!" a screeching voice called from inside the mall and Eddie and Paulie both watched as a Santa with flailing arms ran into TapeWorld. "Eddie man, I really need a favor. I need to use your bathroom."

"What the f--Gareth?" Eddie looked around the store to make sure he wasn't just hallucinating. Gareth was already shedding the hat and the fake beard and unbuckling the wide belt from around his waist. "What the hell are you doing here? Why are you Santa? I thought you were an elf?"

"There's no time to explain," Gareth panted. "But there's a line through the food court to use the bathroom and I couldn't wait, so you either need to let me into your back room or I'm gonna exorcise a demon right here on your sales floor man. Please."

"Ugh," Eddie wrinkled his nose and pointed towards the stockroom. "Yeah, sure whatever. Gross."

"I owe you one," Gareth tossed the fluffy jacket of his costume over the counter at Eddie and then ran into the stockroom. Hopefully just in time.

"So glad I'm cleaning the bathrooms tomorrow night," Paulie scrunched his nose in disgust. "Alright, you and Mitch need anything before I go?"

Eddie was about to say no, was about to send Paulie on his way.

But then he looked down at the coat and got an idea.

An awful idea.

Eddie Munson got a wonderful, awful idea.

"Actually, now that you mention it," Eddie grinned and shrugged the coat on, then the belt, and as he glanced up at Paulie, his coworker groaned, clearly able to read Eddie's mind.

"I thought we agreed no more gimmicks," Paulie exclaimed. "You're just gonna go up and talk to her."

"Yeah," Eddie nodded. "I, Santa Claus, am gonna go up and talk to her. I'm not even gonna take my full break, just five minutes, and then you can leave."

"This isn't gonna work man."

"None of my plans ever do," Eddie shrugged and pulled Paulie into a big hug. "But if it does, I owe you my whole life."

And off he went, across the mall, and up the escalator. He adjusted the coat and the hat and then remembered that he forgot the beard on the counter.

No matter, of course; he really didn't want to get fake beard in his mouth when he planted one on you.

There was practically a line out the door by the time he got to your store. He was able to see you through the window, on the register checking one customer out after another.

You were in the zone, but you didn't look stressed. You smiled a smile that didn't quite reach your eyes, but every so often Mindy would crack a joke beside you and it did.

"This actually might be the worst idea," he muttered to himself.

But it was too late.

It was now or never.

You were gonna kill him.

Some of the younger kids in the store started muttering in excitement when they spotted him, only for their parents to say "that's not the real Santa" and "Santa doesn't wear ripped jeans" but you were oblivious until he was standing right beside you at the counter.

"Excuse me," he took a breath and lowered his voice like he would during Hellfire. "I heard there was something special on your wish list this year, young lady."

"Sorry sir," you answered without a thought. "I'll be with you in a second."

"You can't even take a second to help jolly old Saint Nicholas?"

You turned your head, obviously about to tell him off as you schooled your features into something plastic and robotic and customer friendly, until you realized it was him. Then something visibly short-circuited in your brain and he smiled brightly.

"I'd like to apologize to all the boys and girls shopping tonight," he announced to the customers theatrically. "But I have very important Christmas business with our dear Store Manager here. It'll only take a minute."

He was surprised when a few of them started laughing and clapping.

"Alright Santa," you finally composed yourself to answer, arms crossing over your chest in annoyance. "What official Christmas business can I help you with?"

"Well, I was reading over the wishlist that you sent up to the North Pole," he explained. "I don't have it with me, you see. Had to leave it down in the workshop so the rest of the elves could work on the scrunchies and the lipgloss you wanted."

"Uh huh."

"And the new windshield wipers that you refuse to let Santa replace."

You rolled your eyes and waved your hand to get him to go on.

"But there was one thing on the list that...maybe it's these tired old eyes--"

"Old?" you giggled and reached out to tug on his curls. "Your hair isn't even white Santa."

A bunch of nearby kids boo'd.

"Clock's ticking," you whispered. "Get on with it, or I'm gonna have to kick you out Ed."

"--maybe these tired old eyes weren't able to read. See I thought it just said friend. But my trusty elves Kyle and Paulie and Mitch assure me it says boyfriend."

Mindy cooed an awww from beside you and Eddie felt his confidence grow.

"So, Miss Store Manager," Eddie held his hand out to you. "Which one is it? Because I happen to have some high quality...boyfriend material that I can use to make your wish come true. Is that what you'd truly like this Christmas?"

Mindy immediately slammed a hand onto your shoulder and squealed, and although your lips were clamped shut and nose was scrunched, Eddie was sure that you were holding back a smile.

It was the longest 30 seconds of his life.

"Yes, actually," you finally responded. "That's exactly what I want for Christmas Santa."

Eddie's heart surely grew 3 sizes in that very moment as a bunch of customers clapped. And he was eagerly about to jump forward and plant a kiss right on your lips when your hand slammed against his chest to hold him back.

You laughed and your eyes sparkled with promise as you pointed to the door, a silent understanding that you'd continue this conversation later. But for now?

"Get out of my store!"

---

Eddie found you leaning against the side of his van when he clocked out. Your car was parked beside his, running idle, as you waited. The radio softly played the Nutcracker Suite and you hummed along to it.

"Alright," he began when he got close enough. "I know that what I did was a big no-no, but I think everyone was in good spirits about it."

"You're lucky they were," you glared at him in--what he hoped was-- fake annoyance. "I really would hate it if my DM got a call complaining about that. Then I'd have to break up with you before we were actually even together."

"I wouldn't blame you," he winced and then looked down at his feet. "So...do you wanna go out sometime?"

"Like a date?"

"Yeah," he glanced up at you and then back down at his feet. He shuffled them back and forth. "Dinner at Benny's on the 24th? How does that sound."

"Ugh, I dunno," you sing-songed and took a few steps to close the distance between you. You grabbed the lapels of his jacket and shook him a few times.

"Wh-what are you doing?" he questioned as you lifted his hair and turned his head back and forth.

"I'm looking to see if this was the quality boyfriend material that Santa just promised me a few hours ago."

"Hey now," he grabbed your hands in his. "I most certainly am. We've just...been friends for so long. I didn't know if..."

"I do," you answered before he could finish.

"But what if I..."

"You aren't."

"I was gonna say 'what if I fart under the blankets while we're cuddling.'" He deadpanned. "See, this is why it's important not to make assumptions."

"Alright, Fartmeister," you challenged him. "If you want to Dutch Oven your girlfriend, I guess I can't fight you. But don't be shocked when I do the same thing to you eventually."

"That's all I want from a girlfriend," he said. "A strong sense of retaliation and justice."

"Alright then."

"Alright." He shook your hand like you were making some kind of deal. "Christmas Eve at Benny's for our first date."

"Sounds perfect," you agreed.

"Good."

You launched yourself in his arms and pressed your lips to his and he swore, probably for the first time in his life, he believed in the spirit of Christmas.

---

Next Chapter: Standard Operating Procedures 1.06

#promptparty #Eddie munson x reader #store manager verse #eddie munson fluff #Eddie munson fic #stranger things fic #Eddie munson #christmas fic

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ash5monster01 · 2 months

Note

ello love! (for ur val celebration) can u write rafe Cameron for #4!! maybe make it grumpy r x sunshine rafe?

The Perfect Day

Valentines Celebration Prompt

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x FemReader

Warnings: grumpy reader x sunshine Rafe, fluff, confrontation, slight betrayal, language

4. You’ve always pretended you hate love to avoid getting hurt but then he stumbles upon a journal where he discovers you romanticize everything, including him.

word count: 1.6k

Masterlist

Rafe was not used to being the upbeat friend with absolutely anyone. That was except for you. You were just as annoyed with the world as him if not more. So somehow he took on the job of making sure you keep an open mind on everything around you. When someone talked to loud on their phone he was the one to keep you from saying anything and when an old couple kissed on the beach he was the one to remove to scowl on your face. He wasn’t sure whatever made you see the worst in everything and everyone but he knew you deserved more. You deserved hope. So even though he had been tainted by the world himself he still wanted to make sure it was a good place for you.

Which is why most of his weekends are spent taking you on small adventures, trying his best to get you to see the beauty in the world. So just like every Friday night he sits on your bed and waits for you to finish your shower so you could start off the weekend together. Other than today he was extremely bored. His phone had died and your bedside charger hadn’t quite brought it to life yet and he didn’t know what to do with himself. Which probably explains why his hand reached to pull your bedside drawer open.

Of all the things he expected to find in there the last was a diary. You hated everyone and everything. There was almost no practical reason for you to ever have an item intended to romanticize the life around you. And yet, leather bound and all is a dainty pink journal that has clearly been touched everyday. He doesn’t want to open it, but the more he stares the more he realizes he can’t even picture you lying here in bed at night and spilling every thought you had in the journal. So he opens it to prove himself wrong.

Today was a perfect day. Not only did Rafe make the most perfect fluffy pancakes for breakfast but he used strawberries to add a smiley face to them. He’s so good like that. Taking such small gestures and making them resonate within your entire being. I told him I wasn’t a child the whole time but secretly I loved it. It was adorable to think of him standing in my kitchen, smiling to himself as he crafted a perfect smiley face just to put a smile on mine. I could barely eat my pancake. I just watched and appreciated him. He hums while he eats, no particular tune but I never want to forget it. It’s my favorite song. I also love the way his nose scrunches when I make him laugh. It’s the cutest wrinkle that makes me wish I could smooth it out with my thumb every time. People are always so worried about getting laugh lines when they’re older but they’d look so handsome on Rafe. A constant reminder of all the times he saw me for me and accepted who I was. I hope I get to see those laugh lines for the rest of my life and be reminded I was the one who put them there. No one else deserving of the radiance that is Rafe Cameron. He makes every day a perfect day.

“What are you doing?” your voice startles him, the journal flipping from his hands and landing to the ground on the side of your bed with a thud.

“I- uh. My phone died, and I was just-. I thought you’d have a book or something” the excuse is weak and his stutter confirms his lie even more. Your hair is damp over your shoulders, more than likely soaking the black fabric of the small shirt you have on.

“I have a whole shelf over there, this is private” your words are sharp as you move to grab the journal from where he had lost it. He watches as you lift it up only to discover the pages he was on. Your eyes move fast across the page and then dart up at him quickly. “Did you read this?”

“Um, I uh-“ but your standing and hugging the notebook that just revealed you are so much more than a girl that’s hates the world but a girl that’s in love with it for all the things that make it beautiful. Including your relationship with him.

“Oh my God you read it” and now you’re pacing, unsure if you should fight off tears or the panic that’s lodged its way into your throat and is making you sick.

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s no big deal” Rafe is scrambling off the bed, grabbing your shoulders to ensure you stop pacing.

“It is a big deal Rafe, this is humiliating. These are my private thoughts” you tell him, a bit exasperated to even be in this predicament right now.

“I know but I thought your private thoughts would be more along the lines of ‘not only did Rafe wake me up early for a surprise breakfast but he put a smiley face on my pancake like a kid. Mornings suck and smiles are for ignorant children’” and you hate that he knows you so well, or at least the person you hid behind. A girl can only wear her heart on her sleeve so much before it finally gets torn apart.

“Ugh, you really did read it” you groan out, moving to sit on the end of your bed and Rafe lightly chuckles, still filled with shock over his discovery and attraction towards you. It must be that adorable pout.

“Yes, but it’s not a big deal. I thought it was sweet” he says sitting beside you and wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

“Ew, do not call me sweet” you groan and a laugh bellows out of him.

“Oh please, you love it. And me too apparently” and now your face is as red as a firetruck because Rafe knows everything. That you really don’t hate the world around you.

“I can’t even deny it anymore” and now that you weren’t entirely embarrassed and owning up to the situation, Rafe feels the seriousness hit him like a wave. Suddenly his arm is wrapped around a girl he’s liked for a long time and never thought would like him back. Yet now he knew that she did.

“If it helps, I like you too. If I didn’t I wouldn’t be making you pancakes early in the morning” he tells you, body nudging into your own, and you lightly laugh. You always assumed that your love for Rafe would be hidden by your hate for everything but now that the truth was out it made sense that it didn’t. Secrets never stay secrets for long.

“You still shouldn’t have found out that way” you say lifting the journal in your arms and he smiles softly at you.

“Can I ask why you pretend so much?” Rafe asks after a beat and you sigh, turning to face him which makes his arm fall off your shoulder. He watches as you finally release the journal on your bed and he knows you’re ready to open up.

“A girl can only wear her heart on her sleeve for so long until it becomes ruined. When you expose things to people, put them out there in the real world, they’ll always come back a little less perfect than before. I was tired of getting hurt and if you already assume the worst there is no chance of ever breaking down” you tell him, knowing how silly it sounds. To pretend to be so mean and vile towards everyone and everything when in reality all you ever wanted to do was love.

“I can understand that” Rafe says, thinking of all the times his own father had tainted his heart when growing up. Why Rafe was willing to do anything to get his Dad to love him. See him as something good, just like Sarah.

“I didn’t mean to lie, I just thought if you knew how I felt you would hurt me too” you say and Rafe sighs before scooting closer, hating that you had put distance between you both.

“Honey, I hate everyone and everything except for you. You should’ve known everytime I cheered you up and made pancakes at the ass crack of dawn was because I liked you” he says and the laugh that bubbles past your lips makes Rafe’s heart soar.

“I suppose you’re right, I guess I just couldn’t take my chances” you say and Rafe is grinning, hands wrapping around your hips, and pulling you flush against him.

“I’m going to kiss you now” he tells you and your heart doubles in speed as your eyes glance into his own. Rafe smiles briefly before ducking close and nudging his nose against your own. When your lips part for him he quickly seals against you. A soft hum of delight somehow finds its way from your throat and it has Rafe squeezing you closer as his tongue dips into your mouth. Once you’ve been kissed dizzy he pulls away, eyes glossed over as he looks back at his perfect girl.

“I was right” you say as he glances at your face, lips swollen from your own.

“Yeah, about what?” he asks with a teasing tone to his voice and you wrap your hands around his neck, grinning widely at him.

“You make every day a perfect day”

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loviingpedri · 5 months

Text

one of his girls tonight - hector fort

prompt: he can’t get enough of you.

warnings: cursing, drinking, clubbing, suggestive content, grammar issues, not intense smut (viewer discretion is still advised)

please let me know if more since this is going to be a little explicit.

any italicized texts are lyrics

credits to owners for all images

what else do young adults do in their free time? party, of course.

nothing like a hot saturday night in barcelona when the city was awake as people went out.

“y/n! my sexy girl, let’s go!” going out with your friends at least once a month was a must. meeting new people, kissing strangers, waking up next to someone random.

everything felt like a fever dream. especially that one boy you shared an unforgettable kiss with. last month, you were drunk out of your mind. you met this one guy, he had brown fluffy hair and touched you in the right places. your friends always said you were gonna go home with him and make him yours for the night. until, a random girl walked up to you and slapped you. either you just made out with someone’s boyfriend or someone was a complete control freak over him.

you hoped to see him tonight. some reassurance of what happened last month. and if he’s single, maybe you’ll keep him wrapped around your finger this time.

“alright! i’m ready!” you grabbed your small purse that barely fit anything in it and ran into the uber with the 10 other people in it. “a bit crowded?” you laughed as some people were sitting on each other’s laps.

“anything to save money and not have a designated driver tonight. today’s the day where all hell will break lose.” going out with a group of people was safer, calmer, and more fun.

lately, your life had been hitting every single positive goal in life. you spent your days with the people who brought out the best. little did you know, you would meet the person who would see you inside and out.

getting out the car was a hassle. thanking the driver and running to show your ids to the bouncer. already pre-gamed at your tiny apartment, it was finally time to let loose.

“it’s fucking hot in here.” one of your dearest friends spoke to you as you tried to mingle on the dance floor.

“i just finished my makeup 20 minutes ago and i can feel it melting already.” you fanned yourself to keep composed.

“y/n, that guy keeps staring at you.” looking behind your shoulder. you saw the one and only boy, the one with the best lips you’ve ever felt on yours.

“holy shit. that’s the guy with the crazy girl that slapped me.” you looked at your friend in disbelief. he must’ve went out to the clubs a lot if you continued to see him.

“go up to him. i don’t see her around. ask him what that whole fight was about. take a shot though, you’re gonna need it.” turning around, you could already see his eyes going up and down from behind you. meeting with your friends at the bar and downing shots after shots. finally feeling the alcohol in your system, a new boost of confidence was found.

walking up to him, you spotted different girls surrounding him. as you got closer, he sat up straight and tried to distance himself. sitting down next to him, he sat there frozen.

“hey, aren’t you the guy from a few weekends back?” for a guy who seemed popular around the ladies, he seemed pretty fucking nervous around you.

“yeah i am. sorry about that slap. i don’t know what happened. she’s not my girlfriend by the way. just someone random.” he spoke so fast, fidgeting with his hands. considering you already made out with him, there was no reason for him to be scared.

“you seem very popular. met anyone you like?” he wiped his sweaty palms on his pants. you listened closely to the song in the background as he tried to form an answer.

push me down, hold me down.

spit in my mouth while you turn me on. i wanna take your light inside.

“you. can’t ignore a pretty girl like you.” he began to play into your little game. slowly, you touched his shoulder and sat closer to him in a comfortable position.

“oh yeah? well, this ‘pretty girl’ has to know your name first.”

and i’m screamin’ out. give me tough love.

“my name is hector. yours?”

“i’m y/n. you have a little something on your neck.” spotting a red kiss-mark on his neck, obviously not from you, you smudged it off.

we don’t gotta be in love no. i don’t gotta be the one, no.

i just wanna be one of your girls tonight.

“wishing it was your lipstick?” he give a little grin, trying to rile you up. you looked at him, his way of words trying to get into your pants was working.

“i don’t need to wish.” within seconds, your lips happened to be on hector’s. your legs straddling him while he rubbed your thighs.

he knows how to get the best out of me.

his hands were grabbing your waist as you felt the material of his pants under you. he continued rubbing your thighs, but he slowly made it up to your ass. as you gasped for air, he decided it was a good time to slip in his tongue.

finally breaking the kiss, you hear him whimper for more even over the loud music. smiling at him, you made your way to his neck and jaw. you planted a few kisses here and there, then you could feel his hand start to go under your dress.

“not here, but i know a few places.” making eye contact, you already knew where this was going.

hector wanted to you to be his girl every night.

————————————————

author’s note: author gone wild. imagination got the best of me and i know this is not likely of my stories. let me know if i did good for these kind of storylines!

#football x reader #football fanfic #football imagine #spotify #fc barca #fc barcelona #hector fort #hector fort x reader #hector fort imagine #hector fort x y/n #hector fort fanfic #hector fort x yn #Spotify

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heesdreamer · 1 year

Note

omg the mention of camping in your new heejake fic has me thinking of scenarios in a TENT why am i blushing gn

LOST TIME

PAIRING ➩ heeseung x reader (ex beomgyu x reader mentioned)

SUMMARY ➩ you and your bestfriends, growing up together since you were babies, had a tradition of going camping together every summer. this year you get paired up to share a tent with the boy you’ve been in love with since elementary.

WC ➩ 7.7k

AUTHORS NOTE ➩ honestly this was meant to just be a straight up PWP work due to the request but i got way too into the friendship dynamics and backstory lol.. idk if any other writers relate but sometimes smut just doesn’t feel like it fits in stories but i hope you still like this and maybe ill write something more nsfw later on with this prompt (not proofread and written at like 6am like always lol)

It wasn’t like camping was something you absolutely hated. In fact, for the first 20 years of your life it had been the single thing you looked forward to most throughout the busy year.

At some point it had developed into a promised tradition, an accidental hobby that you and your friend’s coincidentally carried on all throughout your shared childhood and high school.

Your parents had all grown up together too and lived on the same street once they were old enough to start their own families, keeping their tight knit connections and extending it to their partners and children later on in life. You grew up with a community because of this, your neighbors being people you’d spent your entire life around as they were basically family now.

It wasn’t a surprise to any of your parents and their friends families when they all also had kids around the same time, the biggest gap between babies being just over 4 years.

This was how your best friends came to be, as smooth and naturally as gaining a sibling or meeting a soulmate. You grew up surrounded with the same kids, going to the same school and spending holidays together at one of the houses on the shared culdesac.

The camping tradition was started before you even could register what was happening, photos of your parents lined up in bathing suits, holding different sized babies down near the lake shore with bright smiles and sunburns were your only proof that you’d been there as long as you have. As you got older and could enjoy the activities more, it became your favorite thing to do.

Your parents all got older right alongside you and they eventually stopped coming with, knowing you and the other kids would have fun out there while also being safe and smart.

So you continued on like that, all pitching up tents for the weekend and spending your time relaxing on tubes in the river or talking around the campfire, letting off the stress the year had brought you as you finished up high school and entered different colleges.

So it was slightly out of character that you were groaning as you packed your suitcase, complaining to Sunoo on the other side of the phone as he carried out the same action a few houses down.

“It’s just terrible timing.” Your voice was louder than normal as you disappeared into your closet in search of something warm for the colder temperatures at night. “Beomgyu and I are barely even broken up and I’m so behind on class work I could die.”

“Well you know it’s the same time every year Y/N, it’s not like it was sprung on you. Plus Beomgyu broke up with you last fall. I’d say you’re officially over by now.” Sunoo’s voice was barely audible from back in your bedroom but you still sighed and leaned your head onto your dressed with a thud.

He was always brutally honest with you considering he’d known you since you were infants, being the two closest in age out of the rest of you. When you first started school most of the teachers had assumed you were twins, wearing matching clothes and stuck at the hip everywhere you went.

You’d ditched The Shining like fashion now that you were adults but you still were the closest to him out of everybody, having applied to the same college together.

“Plus we haven’t seen the others since the holidays. This is the longest we’ve been apart, aren’t you excited?” His voice was picking up a hopeful tone as he tried to cheer you up and change your mood around.

You sighed softly again and walked back to your bedroom, grabbing your phone from the bed and holding it to your ear so you could hear him better. Leaning forward to look out your window across the small chunk of yard that separated you from your neighbor, you could see him sitting in his chair with a big smile on his face.

“You’ll be sick of them in an hour.” You remarked and knocked on the window, his head picking up to look over at you.

“I’m always sick of them.” He was rolling his eyes and you watched his mouth move in silence as the phone audio lagged behind a few seconds. “That’s the best part.”

You smiled at that and nodded although he wasn’t looking at you anymore, turning back to his bag. You did miss your other friends, almost an impossible amount.

You spent a lot of nights in your dorm room thinking about them and how horrible it was to be apart, replaying the goodbyes you all gave each other at the airport over and over in your mind as you tried to remain hopeful for the next time you could reunite. Nothing could prepare you for how difficult it was to separate for them, your parents all watching you with sad smiles in the background as you cried and hugged each other.

Coming home for Christmas felt like you’d gained a piece of your heart back, spending the entire break inseparable and having more fun than you possibly could with the more casual friends you’d met in school.

Your parents hadn’t nagged you for not being home a lot or felt sad that you all rather be together than with them for Christmas Eve and morning, understanding more than anybody else what it felt like to have such friendships.

“Aren’t you excited to see Heeseung?” Sunoo’s voice cut into your happy daydreams and the smile fell from your face at his teasing tone, stiffening slightly as he glanced at you from his room again, an eyebrow raised in amusement at your reaction.

“I’m excited to see everybody.” You said stiffly and he let out a small laugh at your sudden serious tone, knowing you had caught on to what he was implying. “Sunoo, don’t make it weird.”

“I’m not.” He gasped like it was an offensive thing to suggest, standing and approaching the window so you could see him better as he continued to tease you. “I just think it might be interesting considering this is the first time you’ve seen your childhood lover since being single again.”

“Do not call him that.” You were groaning and flopping back on your bed to which he let out another amused laugh.

You loved all of your friends equally, each one of them bringing a different set of pros to your life and helping to shape your personality as you grew up and molded into the person you were now. They were your family, brothers you never had and they felt the same way about you, resulting in no one ever dating within the group or causing awkward moments that could potentially upset the harmonious balance.

Lee Heeseung was the exception.

Despite Sunoo’s ridiculous phrasing he had never been your lover, not even remotely coming close to it. In fact things were almost more platonic with him than anybody else, never hugging you for too long or jokingly flirting to try and get on your nerves.

You weren’t exactly sure what it was about Heeseung that you liked so much. You’d seen him grow up the same as the other boys and while their changes annoyed you, scrunching your nose at classic boyish humor or lack of hygiene as they all shot up in height and their voices started cracking, Heeseung was the most beautiful person you’d ever met in your entire life.

He’d been born first out of all the babies but he never took advantage of being the eldest, always kind and generous as he drove everybody around and asked for group opinions instead of just doing whatever he wanted out of seniority.

He was funny in a way you didn’t know boys could be funny, not even meaning to make you laugh sometimes and just coincidentally being a beacon of light and humor that left all of you bending over trying to catch your breath at the dinner table. You liked this about him but you liked the small proud smile he’d have after everytime even more.

It certainly didn’t help that he was handsome in an unreal way. He had seemingly barely dipped a toe in the awkward phase you all went through before he was shooting up in height and his features were sharpening, solidifying into somebody who could’ve been intimidating if he wasn’t always smiling and goofing around.

But Heeseung was never your lover and he never would be considering your crush for him, that you had mistakenly spilled to Sunoo at some point during your senior year of high school, was completely dead and gone as far as you were concerned.

You’d even gotten a boyfriend to prove this to yourself, meeting a sophomore on your first day of college and immediately being taken by his style and humor. He reminded you of your friends back home as much as somebody could manage and he helped you adjust to being away from everyone outside of Sunoo. You’d even brought him back home with you last thanksgiving, letting him meet your friends before he abruptly dumped you on your drive back to the airport.

When you’d gotten out of the car with swollen eyes and red cheeks, your friends who had been waiting in the lobby to say the round of goodbyes had immediately crowded around you in worry.

Heeseung was standing back a bit and you tried not to make eye contact with him, humiliated as you murmured to them that Beomgyu had just broken up with you only a few minutes ago.

Jay was furious and attempting to go and confront the boy who was checking your bags in with security but Jungwon was quickly reminding him that you had to spend the next 4 hours sat right beside him on the cramped plane and they didn’t need to make the silence anymore uncomfortable than it already was going to be.

“I can drive you back.” Heeseung’s soft voice was coming from behind the bickering pair and you glanced up at him with wide teary eyes, not liking the pitiful gaze he was peering down at you with.

You felt sick at his suggestion as your heart skipped a few beats, the harsh reminder of how kind and generous he was immediately followed by the realization that no matter how hard your tried or how long of a relationship you had, he’d still make your stomach light up with butterflies. You turned down his offer and said your goodbyes with more tears than usual, promising to see them soon.

Heeseung hadn’t come to Christmas for the first time in your lives and as much fun as you had seeing each other again, the balance was always off whenever one of you weren’t present. He’d claimed he was busy with work and that he’d tried to get time off but he simply couldn’t, a message in the group chat about how he couldn’t wait to go camping being the last time you’d heard from him.

By the time Sunoo spoke again you could see him throwing his backpack over his shoulder and wheeling his suitcase out the door. “This could be the year you know. You should make a move.”

“Don’t be stupid.” You shook your head although he couldn’t see you anymore. “There is no move to be made, we’re bestfriends.”

“That’s because you- Hi Mrs L/N.” You could hear your front door open both through the phone speaker and your own ears. “Are too pussy to do anything about it.”

He whispered the last part so your mom wouldn’t hear and you laughed at the way he stopped mid insult to greet her with an affectionate tone. You hung up the phone and laid flat on your back as you waited for him to climb the stairs to your room.

He was pushing the door open only seconds later and he paused in the doorway when he saw you pathetically sprawled out in your own self pity, sighing softly before climbing on the bed besides your head and petting your hair gently as he kissed his teeth.

“Poor thing. In love with the village idiot.” He was shaking his head and you shoved his hand off of you as he let out a laugh, shielding himself from your attacks. You were sitting up to push him again when three long honks were ringing from outside, catching both of your attention.

You were off the bed and grabbing your bags before you could say another word, a childlike excitement washing over you as you giddily ran down the stairs and gave your mom a rushed kiss goodbye as she complained about the fact Jay had honked and didn’t come in to say hello.

By the time you got outside the other boys were already out of the car, meeting you halfway in laughed filled hugs and you and Sunoo ran to embrace them.

“Oh my god, when did you get so tall?” You were pulling away from Riki in exclamation as you held his arms and shook his frame slightly, scanning him all the way up to his face that was now having to look down at you. “What are they feeding you over there?”

“Straight protein.” Jake was answering before the youngest could, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and he also admired Riki’s growth spurt, although slightly envious considering he hadn’t grown much since high school.

“Protein won’t make you grow idiot.” Sunghoon was leaning against the van with a judging expression as he looked at his friend and roommate, him and Jake going to the same school about an hour away.

You’d stayed in pairs or groups for the most part since moving out. Sunoo and you, Jake and Sunghoon and then Jay, Jungwon and Riki had all moved in together at the best school in the state neighboring yours.

Heeseung was the only one who hadn’t applied alongside any of you despite the belief you all were going to try and stay together as much as possible while still supporting your individual dreams and wants. He had applied to all the same schools as you all did, getting accepted into every single one. Yet when it came down to choosing, he moved the furthest away on his own.

When he had sat you all down in Jungwon’s basement to announce this you remember feeling betrayed. Hurt at him leaving and even more upset that he hadn’t picked the school you were attending considering that was the option he seemed to be leaning towards according to what he told you

You can recall the others cheering in celebration at the fact he’d gotten into an extremely good college despite the sadness that settled in on everyone’s faces when they realized what that meant. You caught his eye at some point during that exchange and he flinched away, not wanting to look at you the same way you did to him at the airport.

Not similarly to the way he was looking at you now, rounding the front of the van as he got out of the passenger seat and made his way to where you were all gathered.

You tensed up for a moment when you first saw him and Riki noticed, following your gaze over his shoulder as he turned around and smiled once he saw what you were looking at, walking over to Heeseung and dragging him towards you with a pat on the back.

“Hey.” He was breathing out as he looked down at you and you took a second to take in his appearance.

It hadn’t been that long since you’d seen him but somehow he looked different, or maybe he just felt different considering how much broader his shoulders were and how much more sure of himself he seemed. You weren’t exactly sure what it was about him that was striking you as new but you were momentarily stunned as you took him in.

Sunoo was nudging you with him elbow suddenly and you realized you’d been completely zoned out checking Heeseung out as you ignored his greeting. “Hi Hee.”

He smiled down at you softly but didn’t say anything else, just standing there for a second before Jay was smacking the hood of the old van and announcing you had to hit the road or else you’d miss the site check in time. You gave him a quick glance before moving to carry your bags into the trunk, stopping when big hands were overlapping yours on the handle.

“Let me do it.” You looked up from under your eyelashes to see Heeseung bending over slightly as he gathered your stuff for you.

You were too stunned to say anything and he smiled again, fuller this time as he turned with your stuff and started to load it up. Sunoo was chuckling from beside you and you whipped your head to the side to shoot him a glare, a silent warning for him to be quiet and not draw attention to the blush on your face or the fact your stomach was lighting up with the same familiar feeling it always did whenever you were around the oldest boy.

The ride was uneventful for the most part, three hours passing as the boys in front of you caught up and told childish jokes, at one point having a competition to see who could catch the most goldfish in their mouth before they were gagging.

Heeseung hadn’t joined in with them from his seat in front of you but you could see his cheeks rising with a smile every time Sunoo squeaked out a laugh or Riki started to tease Jay who was driving. You and Sunghoon were in the back, playing games on his phone as you passed it back and forth and tried to ignore the eyes you could feel looking back at you every once in a while.

You were all just starting to reach your boredom limit and the car was filling with groans of pain as you stretched your legs out onto others and complained about your back pain, when you finally were pulling up to the familiar area.

As you shuffled out of the van, you took a deep breath and squeezed your eyes shut. It was rare to find this type of visual anywhere you were used to, the large trees surrounding the clear lake with small mountains out in the distance.

The air felt clear and light in your lungs and the temperature was perfect, just hot enough that you could go swimming still but also bundle into a sweater to avoid getting an overwhelming amount of bug bites.

You helped unload the trunk with the others, setting up the grills and coolers in a small area a few feet away from the main camp site. It was empty now, a small lot of perfectly mowed grass but you’d seen the process enough times to know with only a little bit of work, it could turn into a comfortable home for you to spend the weekend. Jake helped you moved some of the heavier stuff, giggling when he almost tripped over a branch walking backwards.

“Here comes the worst part.” He was leaning over to whisper to you as you walked back to camp.

Jay was sitting on the picnic table the campsite offered to people who stayed multiple nights, the hat he had been wearing in his hands as Sunoo ripped up little pieces of paper next to him.

Jake was right in the sense that this was the most meticulous part of the weekend but you never completely minded it. Your names would all be written on a piece of paper and put into the hat, then you’d draw two at a time and be given your tent roommate for the trip. Sunghoon and Jake often got paired and he’s complain the entire time, citing him as a blanket hog.

For 90% of the years you’d done this tradition you’d gotten Sunoo, eventually you imagined it had something to do with the fact he was the one who always got to call out the names being pulled.

Nobody ever called him out for it despite the way they’d roll their eyes as he put on a show of surprise, gasping and covering his mouth in shock and you laughed and cheered him on. So you weren’t thinking too much about the mischievous look on his face, figuring he was just planning out how his performance was going to go this time around.

“Okay first up to bat.” Jay was calling out in a serious tone, shuffling the slips around now that they were all accounted for.

“Jake.” Sunoo was announcing as he pulled the first one out, unfolding it and showcasing it slowly to your eager eyes. Jake nudged your side with an excited look on his face, crossing his fingers and squeezing his eyes shut in anticipation. “And…. Sunghoon!”

“Oh no fucking way.” The boy next to you was groaning loudly as he dropped to his knees dramatically, holding his head and trying to block out the sounds of Sunghoon laughing and cheering as he mocked him.

You laughed with him, looking at Sunoo who winked at you and bunched the papers up in his hands. You bent down to wrap your arms under Jake’s arms, tugging him back up to a standing position as he dramatically leaned against you.

Sunghoon was excitedly skipping over to the two of you, face lit up with pleasure at the sound of his friends complaints. He helped you hold up Jake who had gone completely limp as he feigned death. “Hurry up, he’s heavy.”

“Alright next up is…” Sunoo paused dramatically like he was waiting for a drum roll, sighing and muttering how you guys weren’t any fun when nobody humored him. “Jungwon and Sunoo.”

Jungwon let out a cheer and a swift clap, although not moving from where he was lounging in a camping chair beside the picnic table. Sunoo gave you another look, the same mischievous grin on his face that he had before, although now it made your blood run cold as you quickly realized what he was attempting to do.

“Riki and Jay.” You were proven right as the third pair was announced and you stiffened up completely in shock and betrayal, not even paying attention to the two boys and they agreed they were going to get the best and biggest tent since Riki was the tallest.

“Looks like it’s me and you.” To make your situation worse, Heeseung’s low voice was suddenly hitting your ear and you turned to glance at him.

He looked slightly awkward, not nearly as awkward as you were feeling, and you felt a wave a guilt at the fact he had most likely saw your upset reaction. You hoped he just figured it was because you liked to be close with Sunoo, although right now you were considering drowning him in the lake, and didn’t think it had anything to do with him.

“Looks like it.” You gave him a tensed smile knowing it absolutely everything to do with him.

——

The day was so fun you were almost able to forget your unfortunate sleeping situation. Everybody had gone down to the lake the second the tents were properly set up and secured into the ground, greeting familiar campers who lived on site full time during the summers and splashing each other aggressively until somebody was screaming and blowing water out of their nose.

It exhausted you fast and you were back at the camp only a few hours later so you could conserve your energy, watching Jay and thanking him as he grilled enough meat for all of you to eat multiple servings.

Now the sun had set and your first night was coming to an end in the most peaceful way possible, listening to your best friends have low voiced talks around a crackling campfire. You weren’t saying much but you liked to hear them tell stories about their months apart from you and drink in their voices that you had missed so dearly.

“Shit just changes in college.” Riki was mumbling and you watched him with tired eyes, nodding your head as he spoke about how he’s felt slightly out of place now that he was away from home.

“That’s because everybody is either having sex or trying to.” Jake was remarking from beside you and you turned to glare at him.

He was playing with the dangling netted cup holder of your foldable chair and you slapped his hand away at his statement, causing him to chuckle and nudge you with his foot as he shrugged. “Hey, it’s true.”

“Not for everybody.” Sunghoon was shaking his head and giving him the same grossed out look you were. He was sat across from you and he glanced at you from behind the fire with a nod of agreement. “Some of us have better stuff to do than go to parties every weekend and dick off.”

Jake was scoffing in disbelief and you watched Sunghoon shoot him a pointed look like he was telling him to keep quiet, your mouth dropping into a surprised laugh at the fact he had tried to lie and pretend to agree with you.

“Don’t let her fool you, she complains about her virginity every other day.” Sunoo was casually saying as he took a sip of his drink, his head tilting back to finish it and missing the reaction from the group.

It had fallen completely silent and you stiffened up awkwardly in your chair, a wave of embarrassment washing over you at your friends blunt phrasing. He had always been known to tell the truth about anything and everything but he seemed to realize this was too far, even for him, putting his cup down slowly and offering you an apologetic grimace.

“What?” Jake was sitting up in his chair and turning to fully face you, leaning forward and tugging on your sleeve with an urgent look on his face. “You’ve never had sex?”

“Dude you were with Beomgyu for like 3 years.” Jungwon was muttering from a few spots over and you glared in his direction at the mention of your ex boyfriend.

“Eight months.” The voice from the other seat beside you was speaking for the first time in a while and you turned your gaze slowly to see Heeseung stiff in his chair, staring into the fire as he played with his empty cup absentmindedly. You wondered if he even realized he had said something, let alone suddenly announced the exact amount of time you’d been in a relationship.

“Regardless dude, weren’t you guys like super serious?” Riki was adding on and you looked over to him, happy no one else had realized how weird what Heeseung had said was.

Despite how open you all were with each other, it was rare the conversation about sex lives ever extended over to you. As much as you didn’t really mind the idea of talking to them about your experiences, or lack there of, you also weren’t totally oppose to them never asking and you never telling.

You would’ve laughed at the fact they all looked personally offended you hadn’t gotten laid, maybe even joined in on the banter, if it wasn’t for the boy next to you and how embarrassing it was for him to be hearing it all. As much as you wished you thought of Heeseung the same as the other boys, you didn’t and this proved it.

“It’s not a big deal guys… he never tried or anything. I didn’t think much about it.” You were flushed bright red, thankfully hidden underneath the dark night, and shaking your head as you tried to feign casualness.

“Not a big deal?” Jake was laughing in disbelief and leaning forward more so you’d fully understand the sincerity in his words. “He was with YOU for almost a year and never made a move? He’s crazy.”

You were turning to glare at him at his wording and he leaned back a few inches, keeping a hand on your chair.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” You groaned as you realized this wasn’t something they were going to just let go and move on from, being presented with the most interesting conversation point of the night.

“You’re hot.” He said it like it was something obvious and clear and you faltered in shock, mouth parting and you leaned forward to smack him on the shoulder. He winced and flinched away from you with an upset whine. “I’m just saying dude! We all think it.”

You turned away from him to scan the rest of the circle with wide eyes and furrowed eyebrows, watching the other boys awkwardly avoid your gaze or just outwardly nod their heads in agreement with Jake. (Sunghoon and Jay.)

You weren’t stupid and you knew the boys were attractive, each of them fit and handsome constantly drawing attention all throughout high school, subjecting you to glares from girls in the hallways and boys trying to befriend you in an attempt to get closer to them.

Still, you’d never considered the fact that they thought about you in a similar way. You never thought too deeply into your own appearance at all, both positively and negatively but you figured the idea would never cross their minds considering they strictly treated you as a close friend or even a sibling at times, minus Jake and his meaningless flirting.

For some reason your gaze fell to Heeseung, who was still completely stiff beside you. He hadn’t been looking at you before but now he was and you faltered slightly at the hard expression on his face, eyes low with something you couldn’t make out in the dark.

“Shut up Jake, don’t be so stupid.” You were turning away from him quickly as you muttered the words and they dropped it quickly the second they realized you were actually uncomfortable and not just messing around.

The conversation moved on for now but you imagined they’d bring it back up at some point during the weekend. You felt a bit better now that the attention was mostly off of you, Jake’s hand resting on your arm as he played with your sleeve softly. You figured he must be feeling guilty for making such a big deal out of it so you ignored him, happily accepting the invitation to go to bed when Jungwon was standing with a yawn.

The awkwardness of that conversation had made you complete forgot about your sleeping situation but you were reminded quickly as the other boys stood to also head to bed, Heeseung standing slowly and hovering near you.

He followed behind you closely as you ducked into the tent but neither of you spoke as you zipped it up, sitting down on the sleeping back to shuffle through your bag as you searched for your pajamas.

You felt bad it was so awkward between the two of you. You’d always felt more cautious around him considering your past crush but you never let it show, not wanting him to think you liked him less than the others or worse, realize the truth was the direct opposite. Still there was something clearly different in their air now and it was suffocating you a bit as you waited for him to joke around or say something stupid to break the tension.

“Are you into Jake?” When he finally spoke it threw you off completely, not expecting him to say something like in such a hardened tone.

You froze in your movements inside your bag, looking up at him in confusion. “What?”

He was halfway sat leaning against a few pillows, watching you from the other side of the tent with that same unreadable expression he had by the fire. He didn’t clarify what he said, knowing you had heard him and you watched him for a few seconds in silent bewilderment.

“Why would you ask me that?” You mumbled, shaking your head and looking down at your disorganized clothes pile again. It slightly agitated you that he hadn’t spoken to you for most of the day and yet that was the first question from his mouth.

“Just wondering.” He shrugged like it wasn’t a completely taboo topic to be questioning you about but his face was anything but casual. “Are you into any of them? Would you hook up with one of us?”

“How can you ask me that? Would you ask one of the boys that or is it because I’m the only girl?” You glared at him as you spoke.

“I’d ask them if I cared.” He stated and you scoffed, not fully understanding what he was attempting to imply in his statement.

He wasn’t acting like himself and you felt a bit worried that maybe you had done something to upset him or weirded him out with your awkward demeanor. You didn’t bother to reply again, grabbing your toothbrush with the pajamas you’d chosen and leaving the tent swiftly through the zippered door.

You were speed walking down towards the public bathrooms and showers on the other side of the camp site, flustered from his random interrogation and replaying the day to decide if you’d done anything that could make him think that.

Jake was touchy with everybody, especially you at times since you objected the least but he always had been and it definitely wasn’t a new and shocking thing for him to be touching your arm or hugging onto your side. You contemplated it potentially being due to his comment about you being hot but considering the context in which he said it, you didn’t think that was the reason.

A hand around your arm was snapping you from your thoughts and you let out a small yelp, spinning around to see Heeseung who was panting slightly.

His eyes were wide a bit like he was worried and you saw a flash of guilt pass through then when he saw your flushed face. He squeezed your arm for a second before letting it go and you gave him a questioning stare at the fact he had seemingly rushed out of the tent to follow you into the darkness.

“Let me walk you there.” He blurred out and gestured to the fact he was also holding his pajamas and night hygiene products. “It’s dark, you shouldn’t be out here alone.”

You scoffed slightly at his concern, both of you knowing you weren’t in any danger at the campsite and it was barely a ten minute walk through a lit trail, but nonetheless you nodded at him and continued walking with him now at your side. He didn’t say anything else and neither did you, parting ways silently once you got to the building and he went to the male side.

You took a second to breathe once inside, leaning your elbows on the counter and looking at yourself in the mirror underneath the yellow flickering lights. You brushed your teeth quickly and changed into a comfortable sweater and shorts, wandering back outside to see Heeseung already there and leaning against the wall.

He watched as you walked past him silently, lingering for a second before jogging to catch up with you.

“I’m sorry.” He was muttering and you looked at him for a second before focusing back in front of you so you didn’t trip over the bumpy terrain. “I shouldn’t have asked you that.”

You shrugged softly and you felt his arm bump into yours as you walked side by side, approaching the tent in silence. You didn’t want to talk about it anymore, certainly not wanting to hear the reason he thought you’d be hooking up with Jake of all people.

When you finally were back inside and putting your toothbrush away you tried to ignore the fact he was climbing onto the large sleeping bag waiting for you to join inside it before he could zip it up completely. Your heart was pounding thinking about sleeping next to him and you suddenly felt overly hot despite the cold chill of the night.

You’d slept next to Heeseung before, all accustomed to sharing beds or living room floors during sleepovers, sometimes even all smushing together inside Jungwon’s van when you had a particularly long late night adventure. Yet it felt extremely intimate to be alone together and zipped up inside a sleeping bag.

Still you had no other option and the cold was starting to get to you considering your pajama shorts, so you scooted over onto the staticky fabric and held your breath as he leaned over you to seal it.

He laid back onto his back and you fell into more silence, not quite touching but you could feel his shoulder only a few inches from yours, rising and falling as he took deep breaths. He was shifting a bit to try and get comfortable and directly bumped into you, freezing at the contact but not making any move to scoot further away.

“I really am sorry for asking you that.” He was suddenly speaking but his voice was so quiet you barely heard him at first, a tired rasp lacing his words.

“It’s fine Hee. Not a big deal.” You whispered back, the air feeling strangely delicate. His hand was touching your wrist randomly but you assumed it was an accident, sparing him a glance at his touch and finding him staring at the roof of the tent.

“Pissed me off when he said that.” His voice was still low but it was hardening again like it had earlier and you winced slightly, confused at his mood changes. Heeseung was never the type to get angry and definitely not somebody who would voice it so openly like this. “Is that weird to say?”

“I’m not sure I get what you mean.” You were bending your legs so your feet were flat against the tent floor and your knees were pointed upwards, feeling strangely vulnerable at the conversation topic.

His hand that was barely grazing your wrist was moving now and you stiffened when he completely grasped it, sliding slowly down your arm until he could feel your palm under his finger tips. You sucked in a breath at his strange actions, never really directly touching him before despite how close you all were to each other.

“I don’t think I know what I mean either.” He was letting out a small self deprecating laugh but he squeezed your hand now that they were intertwined. “I just know whenever he touches you it makes me feel crazy.”

Your heart felt heavy at his sudden confession and you were slightly dizzy as you were trying to process what he was saying and what it meant if he was implying what you thought he might be. It seemed like he was trying to tell you that he was jealous of Jake, jealous of him for touching you earlier and for the way he playfully flirted.

“Jake’s harmless.” You whispered back and you’re not sure why that’s what you chose to address instead of asking him why on earth that would upset him.

“I know.” He said it like he was frustrated, like you were missing the point he was trying to make. “It’s not about that, I don’t know forget it.”

He was unraveling his hand from yours but you instinctively caught him in the middle of his arm, panicked at the thought of him pulling away now that you’ve finally made some progress towards… something you still weren’t fully understanding. But you’d never even toed the line with Heeseung before and you weren’t going to take it for granted.

He was finally glancing at you now that you were practically hugging his arm and his face wasn’t hard anymore, instead having a nervous unsure look that you hadn’t really seen on him before.

“Help me understand.” You loosened your grip on his arm but kept it held against you, breathing heavier as you looked at each other.

He watched you for a while but didn’t say anything just yet, you tried not to flinch when he rolled over on his side so he could face you better and it seemed to work considering his free hand was coming up to push some of your hair behind your ear, resting on your cheek for a second before going back to his side like he hadn’t meant to do it.

“Why did you never have sex with Beomgyu?” He was whispering again and his words sounded particularly vulgar although he sounded like he was genuinely curious.

You didn’t answer for a while because you honestly didn’t have one that wouldn’t make you sound like you were desperate and insane. You could halfway lie and tell him it just didn’t feel right but you had a feeling he would be able to see right through you like he always could.

“It didn’t work right?” He started speaking again before you could and you were turning on your side too so you could look at him in confusion, still holding his arm that was resting in the middle of you. When he saw your confused look he explained further. “Using him to get over me, it didn’t work.”

You froze and your mouth fell open, almost worried you were going to cry considering how embarrassed you felt that he had apparently known your biggest secret this entire time. A sick feeling washed over you and he seemed to notice because he shifted closer to you slightly with a worried expression.

You thought back to how Heeseung had acted on the trip you’d brought your ex boyfriend to. He was more distant than usual but you figured he was just busy and stressed since he had been working so hard, this being confirmed when he couldn’t get time off to attend Christmas.

Now a large part of you was wondering if it was something else, if he had lied so he didn’t have to face you after your breakup. If Jake, somebody he knew and trusted, flirting with you had bothered him tonight then there was no way he hadn’t been even slightly upset considering you and Beomgyu were openly affectionate the entire break.

You tried to not blame yourself for the fact he had missed out on movie night that week, citing he wasn’t feeling well and barely sparing a glance to the two of you curled up together under a blanket on the couch. Remembering how he stared at you over dinner when you were introducing the boy with a bright smile on your face, avoiding his heavy gaze all night because it made your heart feel guilty.

It also made you feel incredibly stupid. Not only did he seem to know you were in love with him but he also determined your entire reasoning for rushing into a relationship.

“You knew?” Your hurt was shown clearly in your tone and his eyes saddened a little.

“Of course I knew, I thought we both did.” He shook his head a little like he was finding himself stupid. “Imagine my surprise when you come home with a boyfriend.”

“You left.” You spat out to him, squeezing his arm at the reminder he had willingly moved farther away from you than anybody else. Despite the fact you’d spent multiple nights together talking about the colleges you’d choose and he assured you he wouldn’t go far if he didn’t pick the one you were set on.

“I had to.” He sounded pained and stressed out like it had been weighing on him and your heart clenched considering you knew exactly how he felt.

As frustrated as you were at the situation you imagined it would’ve been hard for him too, having feelings for you the same way you did but never being sure. You definitely did your best to hide it to keep your friendship steady since it was your priority and you tried to think about how hurt you would be if he suddenly brought a girlfriend to your holidays, stomach turning at the thought.

“I am over you.” You said it forcefully as you tried to salvage any bit of friendship that was left but neither of you believed the words you were saying, his eyebrow raising as he watched you with a curious expression.

“Yeah?” He was mumbling and you squeezed his arm instinctively at his deepened tone and the way his voice quirked up in a question. You nodded your head and hummed softly in agreement, standing behind your claim.

He was shifting closer again and your nose bumped against his, causing you to suck in a sharp breath.

You tried not to think about the fact this was the closest you’d ever been to him, tried not to think about how he basically just confessed to you and taken almost two decades worth of weight off your shoulders. You especially tried not to think about the fact his eyes were flicking down to your lips every few seconds.

You didn’t think about anything at all when he was finally kissing you, closing your eyes immediately and leaning into each other like this was something you did often. Despite how constant you’d thought about what it would be like to kiss him one day, you were still surprised by how natural it felt.

It didn’t make you nervous to lean into him, not even when he let out a small huffy groan when he rolled onto his back so you could be laying halfway on top of him.

Something about kissing Heeseung came naturally to you and he seemed to be thinking similarly considering the way he let out a small relieved sigh when you pulled away to breathe, big hands coming up to tangle in your hair and hold your face still above his as he studied your swollen lips and dazed expression.

He gave you a soft smile and your lips quirked up at the sight of it, feeling content and happy despite your stomach lighting up with those familiar butterflies, leaning back down to kiss him again before you wasted any more time.

#enhypen #enhypen drabbles #enhypen fanfiction #heeseung #jake enhypen #heeseung drabbles #heeseung x reader #heeseung smut #sunghoon enhypen #jay enhypen #jungwon enhypen #sunoo enhypen #riki enhypen #niki enhypen #enhypen au #enhypen smut #enhypen fic #heeseung au #heeseung fluff

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sapphicvqmpires · 10 months

Text

❁ཻུ۪۪♡ eyes on me

Pairing - nerd!shuri x black!fem reader

Word Count - 10.7k (just vibe with me)

Contains - smut (18+), switch!shuri, switch!reader, cunnilingus, fingering, edging, choking/gagging/breathplay, throat-fucking, overstimulation, dacryphilia, strap-on, breeding kink, slight bondage (not really) mean!reader, just FILTH, some angst, some fluff

Divider From - @firefly-graphics

Sneak Peak - “What’s that you’re working on, baby?” Your tone was low, sultry, a tool to invite her in to observe the way she would give into you. She looked up at you, a hint of thrill masking her beautiful face at the question and your heart grew at the way she lit up. She began to talk about nonsense that meant nothing to you, growing in excitement as you grew in boredom. True to your slightly mean nature, you yawned, almost intentionally knocking down her enthusiasm and her face grew saddened, choking down her words as you belittled her

Tags - @inmyheadimobsessed @amplifiedmoan @vampzxi @abenomeiiii @heejayy @shurislover @shurismainbxtch @shuriszn @naomis-daydream @prettymrswright @pocketsizedpanther @gardenof-venus @tiii-iiiiii @venusdraco @verachii @ihearttish @playhousedistee @somethingcleaverandwhitty @niyahwrites @tishsrealwife @oceean @sookiesookie @myaraines @cafehyunji @6-noir @ventingfanfics @ririslove @marsolgy (comment if you wanna be tagged in future fics, 18+ please)

Writers Note: this is 100% inspired by @oceean and her story as well as her nerd!shuri head cannons she wrote, I fell in love instantly and just knew I had to write her! Thank you so much for your inspiration! I was also inspired by at least 2 of @pocketsizedpanther writing prompts (I won’t say which ones until the end) but thank you so much to you both for your incredible ideas! I apologize in advance for some of the readers actions but bear with me…enjoy this filthy fic!

❁ཻུ۪۪♡ The night before clouded your mind as you sat with the girl in front of you: Amari. While she wasn't officially your girlfriend, she meant more to you than just "friends with benefits" as defined by society. Amari fucked you hard enough to keep you around, yet you hoped she would take the initiative to make your whatever relationship you had with her official. However, that day never arrived, leaving you questioning if it ever would. And it’s not like you were afraid to take charge and ask her to be yours, but deep down you knew she simply wanted to have a good time with you, using you at her own convenience and keeping you close without the obligations of having to care for you beyond your body's physical needs, without having to love you beyond the way you made each other feel in bed.

And that is why your mind wandered to your previous night.

Your academic abilities were never impressive; in fact, you often questioned your overall intelligence, especially considering your past choices in romantic partners. However, Shuri willingly stepped in to assist you with your studies. Yet, the more time she spent helping you, the more you became aware of her remarkable beauty—the sharp contours of her face and the enticing fullness of her lips. Unable to resist, you found yourself captivated by her gaze, leading to an unexpected, breathtaking kiss between you both. It caught you both off guard but possessed a mesmerizing allure. She treated you delicately, and that moment was all it amounted to—a kiss that stirred emotions within you that you weren't certain you wanted to experience, yet undeniably, you did.

A firm kiss on your knuckles brought from Amari’s lips settled your mind back to her and your surroundings. Once she realized she had your attention, Amari reached out, intertwining her fingers with yours and placing another kiss upon your knuckles, evoking a forced laugh from you.

“What’s wrong, y/n? You’ve been quiet the whole time and don’t say ‘nothing’ cause I know your ass don’t know when to shut up, always talking. So what’s wrong?”

Nothing was wrong, per se, but how were you gonna tell her how you invited Shuri to your little brunch ‘date’? It was hardly a date though. Amari didn’t take you out on dates.

“Nothing,” you replied, subtly rolling your eyes in a way that you had hoped she wouldn’t notice but she did.

“I saw that.”

“You saw what?”

“You always rolling your eyes at something, so tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong, I should probably just tell you I invited Shuri today. She’ll probably be here soon actually.”

“Shuri? Like…Udaku?”

“No, the other Shuri,” you replied sarcastically, rolling your eyes yet again.

“The fuck? What is she coming here for?”

Truth be told, you weren’t entirely certain what possessed you to invite Shuri to your brunch with Amari. You didn't even bother mentioning to Shuri that she would be there. But what you were certain of was this: you desired to experience her presence once more, to have her in a space that extended beyond the confines of your bedroom. You longed to observe how she would make you feel while Amari stood before you, curious if her mere presence would overshadow Amari's, despite your hopes that it wouldn't.

“Because why the fuck not? No one ever invites her to anything and plus she’s always helping me and shit with literally…everything. She deserves to get out every once in a while.”

The cafe was fairly quiet, allowing the gentle jingle of the door chime to catch both of your attentions simultaneously. It was Shuri, looking slightly awkward with her book bag slung over her shoulder and a petite bouquet of flowers in her hand. Amari couldn't help but release a soft yet teasing chuckle, prompting you to retaliate by lightly hitting her shoulder.

“Be nice,” you demand.

“Yuh huh.”

“I’m being for real, don’t fuck around.”

“Yeah y/n, whatever.”

Shuri scanned the café until her gaze finally locked onto yours. An intense gulp passed through her, her grip tightening on the book bag as she navigated her way toward the two of you. Seeing you accompanied by another person caused her head to droop slightly, her heart sinking as she held onto the bouquet of yellow and pink tulips. While taking her seat at the vacant spot around the table, she licked her lips causing Amari to release yet another derisive chuckle. You glared at her, using your eyes as a means to tell her to shut up.

“Shuri, Amari. Amari, Shuri,” you say, acquainting the two girls to one another.

“Hi,” Shuri responds, making eye contact with no one but the wooden table underneath her. For a brief moment, a pang of guilt washed over you. You could simply sense the deep nervousness emanating from Shuri's entire being, evident in her difficulty to maintain eye contact with either of you. You alone had the power to make her tremble, make her trip over her words, but with Amari now present in the equation, her nervousness seemed to escalate beyond measure.

Amari looked at you, raising an eyebrow in question of your decision to invite her here but you shrug your shoulders back at her. Initially, you made an effort to engage Shuri in small talk, but your questions were met with short responses, her voice trembling with nerves. It reached a point where frustration and annoyance welled up within you, irritated by how Amari seemed to have Shuri so flustered. As a result, you chose to ignore Shuri for the remainder of the brunch as you indulged in flirtatious behavior with Amari. You sulked in every kiss and hold she gave you, fully aware that Shuri was observing, despite her attempts to appear uninterested. Shuri eventually retrieved her work from her book bag, delicately placing her textbook on the table as she chose to focus on her tasks rather than the moments you were sharing with someone else. An eye roll escaped you once more, a sign of your annoyance. You couldn't help but perceive her as a bit of a loser—a cute one, admittedly, but still a loser.

The brunch gradually drew to a close, marked by a scarcity of conversation between you and Shuri, who remained absorbed in her own world, diligently attending to her tasks. You exchanged your goodbye’s with Amari as she made her way out, allowing a sense of relief to settle over you. At last, you found yourself alone with Shuri.

You turn your body to face hers and for the first time in what seems like the whole time she was there, her eyes met yours. You ignored the way your heart skipped a beat with the way her gaze made you feel, eyeing the bouquet of tulips that rested beside her text book.

“Who are these for?,” you teased, plucking a petal off and flicking it at her face. Shuri winced at the gesture, pressing her glasses into her face as she gathered the courage to tell them they were meant for you. The sight of Amari holding your hand, kissing you, embracing your body made her feel small. Weak. Nothing compared to the sharp presence the other girl carried.

“Well…I brought them for you but then…I saw you with her. So nevermind I guess.”

A gentle chuckle escaped your lips, a mix of delight and uncertainty, as you appreciated the gesture of her gift. Being given flowers was a new experience for you, especially after sharing such a small, insignificant moment. Shuri, however, looked down in a state of embarrassment, wishing to disappear into a void as she set the flowers on the ground. She found no amusement in the situation but your laughter persisted, raising her sense of humiliation. Gradually, your laughter subsided as you composed yourself to find the right words.

“No Shuri, no. I love them, it’s just…look baby. Just because we shared some lame kiss last night doesn’t make us lovers, ok? Don’t get that shit twisted.” Your words were a bit harsh, that you can admit, but you wanted the point to get to her. “Do you understand me?”

She nods and a small smile appears on your face. “Good.”

You look down at her work, almost entranced by numbers and letters that scatter across her paper in patterns unknown to you. Truly, you couldn’t care less about what she was working on, but you wanted to hear Shuri talk, listen to her voice and the quality it carried.

“What’s that you’re working on, baby?” Your tone was low, sultry, a tool to invite her in to observe the way she would give into you. She looked up at you, a hint of thrill masking her beautiful face at the question and your heart grew at the way she lit up. She began to talk about nonsense that meant nothing to you, growing in excitement as you grew in boredom. True to your slightly mean nature, you yawned, almost intentionally knocking down her enthusiasm and her face grew saddened, choking down her words as you belittled her.

“Come on Shuri, I’m playing. You know I don’t actually care about this shit. Don’t act all surprised now.”

Shuri sighs, shutting the textbook as she stuffs it back in her book bag. She stands up, preparing to leave and her action catches you off guard.

“Uh uh..sit down. Where do you think you’re going?”

“I…why did you invite me here? You clearly don’t want me to be here and you’re being mean.”

You couldn’t help but let out another small laugh. As much as you were trying to fess up to her, fit into her bubble, she made you giggle. You grabbed her wrist, pulling her back down onto her chair and she complied without objection. You tenderly pinched her jaw, forcing her to look at you because you were tired of the lack of eye contact she was making with you.

“I’m not being mean, Shuri, you’re just too easy to poke fun at. Loosen up and have a little fun.”

Her eyes beamed at you, a sly smile appearing on her face as you began to subtly caress her strong features. She surrendered to your touch willingly, almost as though she had yearned for this moment for an eternity. Your fingers brushed against her glasses, causing Shuri to instinctively recoil ever so slightly from your embrace.

“What’s the matter? You look adorable in these,” you mention, lightly tapping the frame. You pull them off of her in a playful manner and instant fear strikes her gaze.

“Please don’t…don’t break them please.”

You smile, placing them on your face. You scan the room, unable to see a thing through her glasses.

“Damn, Shuri. You got some shitty ass prescription, don’t you?”

Her throat tightens as she struggles to respond, fearing that you may damage her glasses. You observe her unease, her fidgeting, yet you choose to disregard it. Instead, you open up your Snapchat camera, relishing in how pretty you feel in her glasses.

“How do I look?,” you asked playfully, ruffling your fingers through your curls. Shuri’s eyes disconnected from yours once more, looking down at the ground as she mumbled.

“You look really pretty, y/n.”

You clenched her jaw once more, this time with a tad bit more force as you made her eyes bore into yours for what you hoped to be the last time.

“Hmmm? Look at me angel when you say shit like that. Again, Shuri. How do I look?” You found immense satisfaction in the power dynamics that enveloped your interactions with her. The dominance you exuded in her presence delighted you to no end. Shuri's trembling before you served as a subtle affirmation of her desire, a constant reminder of how deeply she yearned to be with you and it made you feel desirable; a feeling you hardly felt when you were with Amari.

“Y-you look really pretty…with my glasses on.”

You smile tenderly, placing the glasses on her face as you bop her nose with your finger, making you both giggle. Her smile made you feel warm.

“There’s a party going on tonight, can you come please?” You weren’t going to take no for an answer.

“I’m not really a party person, y/n. Plus I got stuff to do.”

“Yeah? Like what? Sit at home and do this boring shit all day?,” you say, mentioning Shuri’s school work. “Have some fun for once. And I’m not taking no for an answer.” Although your words were demanding, your tone was soft, more gentle as you didn’t want to frighten the already trembling Shuri in front of you.

“I’m not leaving here until you agree…I wanna see you again Shuri.”

She grapples with crafting a response to your stern words, driven by a strong desire to satisfy you and bring you joy, because she too wanted to spend time with you, engage in conversation, but ultimately, she craved your undivided attention. She longed for you exclusively and alone.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, Shuri? Speak to me.”

“Where’s the party gonna be?,” she mumbles, and this time you allow it.

“At Amari’s house.”

She subtly crinkles her nose, a faint eye roll following and you raise an eyebrow at her mannerisms. You were well aware of the motive behind her reaction, but you wanted to hear it verbalized by her.

“What?”

“What’s wrong with Amari’s house?”

“Nothing…”

“Then what’s the long face for, Shuri?”

She releases a weary sigh, opting to remain silent as you patiently anticipate an answer she chooses not to provide. You roll your eyes in response as you pull out your phone to text her the address.

“Party starts at 9:00, I’ll see you there. And it’s not a question.”

As she attempts to open her mouth in protest, you swiftly bring your finger to her lips, silencing any words before they can escape. The tension in her throat becomes apparent as she swallows hard, the bobbing motion a testament to her internal struggle. With a tender kiss upon her lips, you convey your longing to meet again without having to explicitly acknowledge it verbally. But to Shuri, it meant something completely different; she yearned for you deeply but you just didn’t have the capacity to reciprocate her needs. Not yet anyway.

“I’ll see you later, Shuri.” Your final words before taking off, leaving Shuri with nothing but the pink and yellow tulips she brought for you.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

You leaned your body into Amari’s, red cup in both of your hands as you indulged in the liquid inside. The pulsating music coursed through your veins, dictating your every movement as you sensually pressed your body against the woman behind you.

“You look so sexy tonight,” Amari whispered into you, her voice sending a deep chill up your spine.

“Yeah…that’s all I look like to you nowadays.”

“What does that mean?”

You took another sip of your drink, savoring the sting that poured down your throat.

“Nothing,” you replied. You continued to sway in rhythm, moving sensually as Amari handled every inch of your body like she owned you. It seemed as though she genuinely desired you, and for an instant, her actions almost swayed you. You were aware of what she craved in that very moment – she yearned for your submission, for your vulnerability, wanting you to surrender completely to her touch. And with each passing second, you found yourself succumbing a little more to her allure. However, your attention abruptly shifted as you noticed who had just entered through the door; her bookbag on her shoulder while still grasping onto the tulips you were meant to take earlier and your heart sank at the image. You had underestimated the hurt that Shuri must have felt, leaving behind the flowers she had brought you. Your mind had been too preoccupied with other matters to fully comprehend your actions.

“I’ll be right back,” you spat, chugging down your last bit of alcohol.

“Where you going, baby?”

“I said I’ll be back.”

Amari picked up on your tone and you're thankful she chose not to engage in an argument at that moment. She pulled you closer, pressing your back into her chest as she placed a tipsy kiss into your cheek before harshly letting your body go. Shuri patiently waited for you by the door, visibly exhaling with relief as you made your way towards her. With a discreet gesture, you beckoned Shuri to step aside, hoping to avoid Amari's notice. You appreciated the fact that Amari resided in a spacious house with several roommates, as it allowed you to swiftly guide Shuri into the bustling crowd, sinking into a secluded corner where prying eyes would not find you. Shuri trembled, but this was nothing unfamiliar. It was precisely the way you wanted her to be.

“You made it,” you playfully remarked, draping your arms around her neck, initiating a gentle swaying motion in sync with the music. Shuri quickly caught on to your intentions, recognizing your subtle efforts to coax her into dancing with you.

“I-I’ve never done this before,” she stammers, clearly tense from her own self-doubt.

“You’re doing amazing, baby, just follow my movements.”

It took a moment or two, but Shuri gradually let her guard down, slowly allowing herself to indulge in the intoxicating combination of your presence and the music. Once you notice her growing comfort in your embrace, you dangerously decide to escalate the intensity. You spun your body around, pressing your back into her chest and it initially caught her off guard, but she adjusted to the new dynamic. You gently pressed your ass into her crotch area, igniting a deep fire within Shuri that caused her face to grow warm. You smiled, because even though she wasn’t directly facing you, you could sense the heavy pound of her heart break out of her chest and fall onto your back.

“Just relax, Shuri,” you whispered and she obliged, resting her head into your shoulder and you couldn’t help but notice the dampness that began to form in between your legs. It was silly to you, how easily you became aroused with Shuri with just her presence alone. She bravely pecked a kiss into your neck and you figured that was your que.

“Wanna go upstairs?”

“Hmm?”

You turned around to face her, met with a body that screamed in fear but eyes that longed in desperation.

“You heard me, baby. Answer me.”

Her head sunk low as she gathered the courage to reply to you. Shuri wanted you desperately. She wanted to explore you, feel you, make you feel good and watch you as you gave into her touch. This, her mind was absolutely sure of so she did not let her mouth betray her. Not this time.

“Yeah.”

“Louder Shuri, I can’t hear you.”

“Yes, y/n. I wanna go upstairs.”

You smile. “Perfect.”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“What’s on your mind, Shuri? Open yourself to me.”

Shuri’s hands trembled, her palms growing sweaty as she anxiously waited for you to make the first move. For a moment, the room seemed to close in on her, suffering her with a mix of anticipation and self-doubt but once you pressed your lips into hers, it was as if all fear had been lifted, basking in the way you carried the kiss. You wrapped your arms around her neck, your nose bumping her glasses and you giggled at the touch. Your lipgloss smears on her lips, and she savors the taste of you, lingering in the love you gave her now.

“You’re so beautiful Shuri,” you say, and you mean it with every fiber of your being. “Tell me you want this, that you crave this as much as I do. I want to know that you’re ok.”

“I want this,” she replies instantly, her fast response quickening the beat of your heart and the beat that began rising in between your thighs. “I want you so bad, y/n.”

Shuri scrunches your mini dress up to your hips, her eyes growing wide at the damp spot that formed on your panties. You opened your legs wide for her as she became more and more mesmerized with the way you soaked through the material.

“C-can I touch you? Please…?”

“My legs are open for you, baby. Do whatever the hell you want to me.”

She swallows, consuming a huge intake of oxygen as her fingers trace the contours of your body. With affectionate care, she caresses you, as if desiring to prolong this moment indefinitely. Once her hands find your pussy, she pulls off the fabric and swiftly discards it aside, all while her eyes become deeply fixated on your glistening center. Without delay, she glides her tattooed fingertips between your sticky folds, causing you to sharply inhale at the sensation. Your nerves quiver under her touch as she drags her fingers across your pounding clit. She takes the tips of her index and middle fingers and applies pressure to the sensitive bud, moving them in a circular motion that forces a moan to escape your throat.

“Do you like this?,” she asked and you grew confused because here you were, a moaning mess with her fingers covered in your slick and she was asking if you liked it.

“Yes, unh, yes Shuri…ooo fuck yes. Just like that baby, keep going. Unh.”

Her hands were skillful, pressing into your bundle of nerves that made your throb intensify, your gut beginning to clench as you felt your release approach. Shuri skillfully directed her fingers down to your entrance, pressing against your tight opening without fully submerging herself into you. She traced delicate circles around your entrance, watching the way you squirmed in desperation as your pussy grappled with her fingers, trying to draw her in. A crooked smile graced Shuri’s face as she witnessed how hungry your body grew for her, how needy your pussy became for fingers and the sight of you made her own pussy clench around nothing. Finally, she dipped her fingers into you, and your mouth fell open in awe as her skilled digits effortlessly found that precise spot inside you that yearned for her touch.

“Oh my god, Shuri, yes. YES. Right there.”

She thrusted into you, your pussy clenching her fingers frantically as your legs squeezed together in pleasure, but Shuri wasn’t having it. She wanted to see you, get lost in the sight of your longing and how much your pussy swallowed her fingers.

“Please y/n, keep your legs open. I want to see you.”

With a deliberate motion, she spread your legs apart once more, granting herself a perfect vantage point of what belonged to her. She observed you intently, studying the way your mouth dropped open, the way your eyes rolled back and refocused to meet her gaze, the way her name sounded falling off your pretty, sinful lips.

“You’re so pretty.”

And with that, she brought her fingers from her other hand into play, pressing them against your sensitive clit while her other hand remained immersed in your soaked pussy.

“Tell me what you’re feeling, y/n. I wanna know that I’m making you feel good.”

“Shuri…fuck. Oh my god…you make me…you make my pussy feel so fucking good.”

And this much was true. A feeling that left your entire body tingling, your chest heaving up and down as you struggled to keep up with your shattered breathing pattern.

“Mmm. H-how are you s-so…unh…fuck…so good at this? UNH.”

“I know my human anatomy very well.”

“Of course y-you do, baby. Of course you fucking do. Shit. FUCK. I’m gonna…fuck Shuri.”

“You’re close. I can feel it, y/n.” She was absolutely correct. “Can I taste you?”

Your head swings forward in surprise at her question, almost inclined to shake your head in disagreement as you were already overwhelmed with the way Shuri was fucking you like you meant nothing and everything all at once; but there was a desperate plea of innocence coated in Shuri’s eyes for how much she longed to place her mouth in between your thighs that made it so much more difficult to deny her request.

“Go ahead Shuri, taste me.”

With wide eyes and a shy grin, she positions your legs over her shoulders, eagerly indulging in the act of pleasuring you with the ways of her tongue and the way she devours you is nothing short of orgasmic bliss.

“Ah! Oh my fuck, Shuri. UNH.”

The Shuri who could calculate the most impossible calculations in a spliff or create the most inventive of things in days was sucking your drenched pussy as if you were her own experiment, her own assignment to complete until you were shivering in her grasp.

Her tongue was skillful, coated with your cream as she flicked and pressed into you. She brought her chin and nose into play, swiping through your slit and the sensation was euphoric, sending electric waves throughout your pussy that radiated throughout the rest of your body in thick motions.

“Oh fuck Shuri, fuck baby, keep doing that. You’re doing in-incredible. Mmm, yeah, Unh.”

You looked down at her, dark orbs never leaving your gaze as she basked in the sight of you. She wanted to keep you like this forever, and this proved evident through the way she placed her fingers back into your snug cunt.The overwhelming pleasure consumed you as her tongue caressed your clit and her fingers delved inside, expertly targeting your g-spot simultaneously. The sensation of her glasses brushing against your inner thighs heightened the experience, as she continued to ask for your reassurance.

“Please, y/n. Tell me how I’m doing. Do you feel good?,” she asked before proceeding to suck on your puffy clit.

“I’m so wet for you, Shuri. Don’t stop…I’m s-so close. Fuck .”

You placed your hand on the top of her head, grasping her soft curls as her fervent stimulation at your core became sloppier and heavier. Your pussy clenched her fingers, your clit fluttering against her taste buds and the double penetration propelled you swiftly towards your climax. With a few more dual pumps and licks, you were sent over the edge, completely vanquished from head to toe by the deep and slow pulsations that coursed through your pussy walls.

“Yeah! YEAH! AHH…yes Shuri, oh my…f-FUCK.”

Your cries in pleasure did not force Shuri to stop her movements both in and on you, continuing to fuck you as your cunt spasmed beneath her touch, your vision becoming nothing but a foggy haze.

“Shit Shuri, I’m cumming babe, I’m cumming!,” you struggled to say, trying to squirm out of her grasp.

“I know. I heard you. I just like seeing you like this,” she hums into your pussy.

She released her fingers from inside you as she stuck her tongue out fully, allowing you to ride your throbbing clit against her tongue. Your slick was audible against her, a loud sloshing sound that mixed in with your vile moans; a musical duo that made Shuri’s pussy clench in satisfaction.

“SHURI.”

As your mind and body struggled to descend from your blissful high, the shaking girl beneath you raised her body to meet your gaze once again. Her face bore the evidence of your intimate encounter as your cum glistened against her, staining the lenses of her glasses. You reached out your hand to caress her cheek in an attempt to soothe her nerves.

“W-what’s wrong baby? Why are you shaking?,” you managed to say through your own post-orgasmic state.

“Was…was that ok?”

You almost scoff at her unbelievable question.

“Baby…your head was between my trembling thighs and my pussy’s still beating …how are you even asking me this shit right now?”

She remains silent as her eyes scan your face, never quite connecting with yours as her face flushed with warmth. Your lips press against hers, savoring in your flavor, and she responds with a soft yet passionate moan.

“Let me take care of you, Shuri,” you say, beginning to unbuckle her pants but she holds your wrists, pausing you midway. With a deep inhale, she presses her forehead on yours, bringing your knuckles to her lips.

“Not tonight, y/n. I just wanted to make you feel good.” Her voice was low and husky, probably the clearest words she’s spoken today and it made your pussy pulse. She reaches down beside the bed, grabbing the flowers you were meant to take earlier. They weren’t as fresh as they first were, but the gesture made you want to cry.

“Fine…but don’t think I’m done with you,” you replied, retrieving the pink and yellow tulips. “I’ll see you tomorrow? 4:30? I need help with another assignment.”

“I’ll be there.”

After planting a final kiss on her swollen lips, you make your way to the bathroom to freshen up. It's important to you that there is no evidence of Shuri's touch remaining on your body when you return to face Amari. You know that she will undoubtedly be curious about your absence at this very moment, although deep down, you're aware that she doesn't genuinely care.

You make your way to the bathroom to restore yourself. With a touch of powder, you freshen your face and carefully apply a new layer of gloss to your lips. You took a moment to adjust your dress, which no longer hugs your body as it should, and ensure it falls perfectly. With a final adjustment to your hair, you gaze at the reflection before you, appreciating the image that stares back. You discard the flowers into the trash as it was the final evidence of your time with Shuri before heading downstairs to rejoin the party.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

The next day approaches, waking up in your dorm room with Amari beside you, both of you absolutely fucked out from the intense night you two shared after the party. You groaned in frustration, pulling your blanket over your head as your previous night came flooding back to memory. You looked at your clock that read 4:17pm and you cursed under your breath immediately.

“Shit, shit, shit.”

The realization dawns on you that you had completely lost track of time after the party. It was nearly 4 am when you finally made it back to your room, fucking with Amari for a good amount of time after before you had finally passed out from exhaustion. Shuri promised she’d be in for 4:30pm to help with your assignment and you were far from ready. You opened your messages to text her, hoping she’d be ok to reschedule for a later time.

*Hey does 7 work? I got caught up in some shit*

Three bubbles pop up on the screen almost immediately.

*Yeah, that works.*

*thank youuuuu*

*you’re welcome :).*

You started pushing at Amari to wake her up. “Babe, wake up. I got shit to do.”

“Hmmmm?,” she replies, still half asleep.

“I said get up. I need you to go.”

After a few minutes, she finally gets up, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Damn y/n, what’s the rush?”

“We overslept.”

“It’s a sunday babe, we can sleep however long we want.”

You sigh, pinching the top of your nose as you inhale deeply. “Look Amari, I just need you to go. I got shit to do.”

“What’s with the fucking attitude?”

Truthfully, you weren’t entirely sure where the sudden attitude was coming from but what you did know was you were beginning to grow deeply frustrated with how much Shuri was fogging your mind.

“I ain’t got no damn attitude but I will if you don’t get the fuck out of here.”

Amari scoffs. “The fuck is your damn problem? Don’t tell me this has anything to do with that girl.”

“Don’t know who you’re talking about.”

“Uh huh. I ain’t stupid, I saw those flowers in the trash can yesterday. Those same damn pink and yellow flowers. Who were you with last night when you were gone?”

A tight feeling began to wrench in your gut, accompanied by a sense of embarrassment short after.

“You just opening your legs for anybody now??”

“Does that bother you??”

“Yes that fucking bothers me, y/n.”

“I don’t see what your damn problem is with that, we ain’t even together.”

“Here your fucking ass goes again with this stupid conversation.”

You theatrically express your annoyance, intending to make your way towards the bathroom, but Amari seizes your wrist, halting you from proceeding forward. She loomed over you as she rose to her feet, and a brief surge of fear gripped you as her anger became transparent. Her eyes grew in that sense of possession that flared up everytime she thought you had been with someone else.

“Just can’t keep your legs closed, huh?”

“What is it to you?? What am I to you?? Besides a pussy you can fuck whenever you want because you know I’m so fucking easy.”

She lets go of your wrist, taking her place back down on the edge of the bed.

“She ain’t ever gonna fulfill your needs, princess. You’re too much of a brat.”

“I’m only that way when people bring that shit side outta me! How many times have I made it clear that I wanted you?? And you lured me in just to keep me around at your damn convenience, I’m sick of being your plaything!”

“Well apparently you for everybody now, so I don’t know why you’re so upset.”

Your frustration grew exponentially the more words pooled out of Amari’s mouth, driving you to a point where you could no longer tolerate being around her. You made your way towards the door, opening it with a deep aggravation.

“Leave.”

“What?”

“You heard me. I said leave. I don’t wanna see you.”

She snickers under her breath, making her way towards the door. Before she exits, she pauses at the threshold, turning around to face you as she leans on the doorframe.

“I’ll be at my place when you're done being a bitch.”

You roll your eyes at her, nudging her body out of the door frame before slamming the door in her face. Amari’s laugh rings through the door causing a shiver down your spine.

“Ain’t no way some nerd gonna fuck that pussy better than I can, y/n!,” she yells through the door. You exhale in relief, grateful to finally be alone.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

As 7pm approaches, you prepare yourself, donning a stylish two-piece pajama set that accentuates your figure just right, revealing the perfect hint of cleavage without appearing overly eager. You gathered your curls to the top of your head in a pineapple hairstyle and lightly applied makeup to rejuvenate your complexion. When the doorbell chimed, excitement surged through you, though you tempered your emotions. You opened the door to Shuri wearing a modest smile. You welcomed her inside, noticing a hint of weariness and sadness in her eyes, but you chose to ignore it for the time being.

“Hey y/n,” she said, and you most definitely noticed her eyes trail to your chest for a split second.

“Oh my god, thank you so much Shuri for rescheduling, some shit happened earlier and I just couldn’t fucking make it, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s ok.”

The evening progressed with Shuri assisting you, fulfilling her usual role, yet an inevitable tension filled the room, causing your muscles to tense, a sensation you were able to contain. Shuri, on the other hand, struggled to maintain her composure, her voice quivering and her hands trembling with increase as the study session unfolded. Although she helped you as she normally would, her words were briefer than usual, and you couldn't help but detect a subtle undertone of attitude in her words. You allowed the tension to soak up a bit more, until you realized you had both reached your limit.

“Shuri, baby, what’s wrong?”

“What do you mean?”

Of course she was going to play dumb.

“Don’t give me that. Don’t act like you ain’t got a little attitude right now, you think I don’t notice? Shuri, you’re shaking.”

Shuri looked away, purposefully avoiding both you and your question, seemingly hoping that you would relent and let the matter go. But she should have been aware by now that you were persistent in getting what you want…almost always. Determined, you firmly clasped her jaw, gripping her chiseled face tightly, as if to convey that this should be the final instance of reminding her to maintain eye contact when speaking to you.

“Shuri, my eyes are here. How many fucking times do I got to force your eyes on me?”

She trembled within your grasp, your signal to loosen your grip on her.

“Now talk to me…what the fuck is your problem?”

You let go of her as she takes a sharp inhale. “I saw her…come out of your dorm earlier…what-why was she here?”

“Who? Amari? Yeah, and what about it?”

“I…why was she there? What even am I to you?”

You erupted into a bitter, cynical laughter, a sound that pierced through the air causing Shuri's entire being to tremble, while her heart sank in despair. The minute you left her side last night, she grew overwhelmed with an intoxicating love for you. Seeing, tasting, touching, smelling and hearing you in the most intimate of ways while you cried out her name made her fall deep. However, arriving at your dorm mere minutes before your scheduled meeting, only to witness Amari exiting your room, shattered her in ways she never thought imaginable.

“Shuri…Shuri be fucking for real,” you finally say, coming back down from your laughter. “What are you to me?? Real question is who do you think you are to me? Cuz you out here acting like we dating just cuz we fucked once, buying me flowers and shit. You need to chill.”

The room fell into an oppressive silence as your words pierced right through her; the sadness, the heartbreak, it was all etched on her face but she knew where you were speaking from. She recognized the source of your words, realizing that you, too, spoke from a place of wounded vulnerability, pouring from a fear of receiving the care and treatment you deserved for far too long now. This understanding resonated within her, for she understood all too well but the impact of your words hurt her, and she grew weary of your indecisive language.

“Where did you put the flowers, y/n?”

“Huh?”

“You heard me.”

“After all I just said, you worried about some damn flowers?? I tossed them in the trash.”

Determined not to shed tears in your presence, Shuri started gathering her belongings, preparing to leave the room and undoubtedly escape from your hurtful presence. It was in that poignant moment that you finally recognized you had overstepped a boundary. As you observed Shuri, you saw yourself reflected in her, witnessing the vulnerability of her shattered heart so openly displayed, just as you had once felt when Amari had treated you similarly. This realization struck you deeply—this time, you were the one inflicting pain, resembling the role Amari had played in your own life.

“Wait…Shuri, please. I’m sorry.”

She didn’t dare turn around while she continued to slip on her shoes, determined to leave through the door and leave you behind forever. Despite your initial resistance, you couldn't help but allow your guard to crumble, impulsively rushing towards her and enveloping her in a tight embrace. The intensity of the hug was so overwhelming that it felt as though your ribs might just crack under the pressure.

“What are you doing, y/n?”

“Please don’t go. I’m just…I’m sorry. I’m so sorry Shuri.” You loosened your grip, wrapping your arms around her neck as she looked down at you. “Just…please don’t leave. Please.”

In a fleeting moment, soft glances were exchanged, and Shuri's eyes involuntarily drifted down to your lips, though she attempted to make it not seem so.

“You wanna kiss me, baby?”

She nodded.

“Then do it.”

She paused for a moment before pressing her lips into yours. Both of you embraced each other with a deep intensity, as if you had both yearned for this moment with equal longing, and as if it was a moment you wished to hold onto indefinitely. She grabbed your thigh, wrapping it around her waist as she drove herself deeper into the kiss, pulling a moan out of you that drove her insane. She was wet, absolutely salivating over you and you needed her. All of her. You wanted to hear her, taste her in the most intimate of ways. She picked you up, gently placing you back onto your bed. You wrapped your legs around her, trapping her body into yours as you continued to consume one another through heated kisses.

“I…I have something for you,” she admitted.

“Yeah? And would that be?”

“I-I want to try something…with you…if you’re ok with it.”

“I’m down for anything, my love. Just tell me what you need.”

Shuri's body shuddered against you at the choice of your words, "my love." She was aware of the potential regrets that may come from surrendering herself to you wholeheartedly, uncertain of the person you would be tomorrow but the power of your words and the warmth of your embrace compelled her to cast aside her concerns and fully surrender to you, embracing this ephemeral moment where you belonged to one another.

“I made a…a…strap.”

You raised an eyebrow at her. “You made one? You did not...”

“I did though. I made it so I can feel you like it was my own, I’ll be able to feel you wrapped around me.”

Her words ignited a warmth within you, causing your heart and pussy to pound in unison, your body aching to feel her. In that moment, she became your genius, playing with fire as she brought her invention into the picture. With a gentle touch, you caressed her face and she relished in the lingering embrace between you both.

“My poor princess, I’ve corrupted you…haven’t I?”

Her face wore a smile that was impossible for her to suppress, ridding herself of her clothes while securing her strap around her waist. She gracefully leaped onto the bed, resting her back against the headboard and the sight of her made your already dampened folds even more so, adding to the throb that coursed between your thighs. Her dark skin was flawless, her breasts impeccably placed on her chest, and it was no secret that she had put a meticulous effort into the details of her strap as it was visually apparent.

“Take off your clothes y/n…please. I wanna see you.”

You obliged, removing yourself from your pajama set but keeping your undergarments on. You made your way towards her, wrapping your hand around her dick as you began to pump slowly and sensually causing her to breathe in sharply at the sudden contact. Your unwavering gaze penetrated deep into her soul, forcing a fragile moan to fall from her vulnerable lips.

“How many times a day do you think about me Shuri?,” you ask, your voice seeping in lust as you proceed to stroke her. Her throat bobbed as she swallowed hard. “Don’t be shy…tell me.”

“A…a lot.”

“Mhmmm…and what are we doing when you think about me?”

It was obvious she was trying to hold back, fighting inevitable moans that fought to escape the depths of her throat yet this only fueled you to pump her harder.

“Answer me when I’m talking to you baby.”

“Mmm, unh…we…we’re naked.”

“Don’t be shy, tell me what we’re doing.”

A soft whimper escapes her lips as your strokes push through her, revealing her struggle to maintain composure and hold herself together.

“I’m fucking you…with my dick.” Those were the most provocative words that have ever escaped her lip, a captivating melody to your ears that compelled you to keep going.

“There you go, my dirty fucking girl…was that so hard?”

She shakes her head back and forth as she finally lets her guard down, softly moaning at the throbbing sensation that coursed through her strap, pushing it back into her clit. You slowly caress her dick downwards, until your hand is wrapped at the base of her, leaving room for you to pull the rest of her into your mouth. You graze her tip with your tongue, circling around her and her breathing quickens. You waste no time pulling her all the way in, sucking on her while your hand works the base of her.

“Y/n…unh.”

Her moans began to escalate beyond her inability to swallow them down. This is exactly how you wanted her; helpless, wiggling under your control as you worked her through it. You push your mouth down on her, choking as your throat closes in around her girth. You felt everything, every twitch and every throb grazed the inside of your mouth only pushing you to keep going. Drool poured out of your mouth as her size blocked your airways, gagging and choking sounds coming from your throat as you sucked her like you hate her.

“Shit y/n…ah…bast.”

In that moment, she disregarded any concern for the intensity of her actions and the assault she had on your throat, fully immersed in the experience without regard for the impact it had on you. Your wet strokes and pumps sent her over the edge, a rhythmic wave-like sensation surged through her dick reaching towards her tender tip. She grabbed your curls, gently guiding your head to reach further, causing you to immediately gag as her tip hit the back of your throat.

“I’m…I’m sorry,” she manages to say between her breathy moans, but you kept going with no intention to stop until she spilled into your mouth. She created its size with true intention, wanting to feel you wholly and fully as she spread you open. She loved the way you looked, the way your mouth was so full of her and how your mascara poured down your cheeks as you maneuvered between sucking and choking below her.

“I’m…y/n I’m so close. Please don’t stop…please. Mmmm, ah.”

“Cum for me baby, spill into my mouth.”

Immediately, Shuri’s moans pierce your ears, an erotic scream filling the air as her thick cum poured into the back of your throat. You swallowed every drop of her, licking her tip dry as she wailed in pleasure.

“Shit y/n…oh my…ah-ohmygod!”

Your tongue swirls around her tip a few moments longer, and even though the sensation was overwhelming her, she allowed you to proceed. She let out a whimper, teetering on the edge of tears due to the slight overstimulation, yet the mere sight of you provided the strength to push through it. You bring your face up to meet hers, immediately pushing your tongue into her mouth as she tastes herself.

“You taste delicious,” you hummed. “What else do you wanna do with this?,” you ask, proceeding to stroke her with your hands. She doesn’t answer, instead shaking her head left and right frantically, her tip becoming so swollen with the way you continue to caress her.

“I…I can’t.”

“Ssshhh, yes you can princess, you can. You’re ok. Just tell me what you want.”

“Unh.”

“I can’t give you what you want if you don’t use your words, baby.”

She bit her bottom lip, holding back a quaking moan that sat on the edge of her tongue, overwhelmed with your words as your hand remained around her, squeezing just enough to soothe and intensify all at once.

“Y-y/n…I..unh…”

You grabbed her throat, pressing firmly into her windpipe that caused her to gasp and you smiled. You couldn't help but feel a deep admiration for the delicate and vulnerable appearance she presented in front of you, surrendering herself entirely to your control.

“Quit all that whimpering Shuri, talk to me. I wanna hear you say it.”

“I w-want you to f-fuck me. Please, y-y/n,” she struggled to respond between her trembling and your hand firmly wrapped around her throat.

“That’s a good girl…my pretty fucking princess.”

You let go of her throat, causing her to cough and you smirked at the sight. You took off your undergarments, leaving you entirely naked and open for Shuri’s gaze. You leaned back, opening your legs for her display and she practically salivated over the sheen dew that glazed your dark folds, paving way to the fleshy color that hid underneath. She attempted to crawl towards you, eager to rub you with her tip but you closed your legs instantly, pressing her back into the headboard behind her. You take your bra, tying her wrists together and she did nothing but let you, because she knew there was nothing she could do to stop you. She did not want you to stop.

“Give me a safe word, Shuri.”

“What?”

“A safeword…come up with one.”

“Tulips.”

“What?”

“T-tulips.”

You chuckled, absolutely drawn into her. You kissed her once more, and she moaned into your mouth.

“You got me fucked up, you know that?”

She nods vigorously.

“Now listen to me baby, I’m not gonna stop fucking you until I hear the word ‘tulips.” If you say ‘stop’, I’m not gonna stop. Do you hear me?”

She nods again and it’s not enough for you. You retaliate by snaking her throat once more, applying a firm pressure into her windpipe.

“Use your words. I wanna hear you, make sure you fully understand what I’m saying.”

“You’re not gonna s-stop fu-fucking me until I say ‘tulips’.”

“Perfect.”

You sling her constricted arms around your neck, her wrists still tied together with your bra as you gently place your pussy on top of her strap, swallowing her whole and you both moaned in unison. Her dick stretched you in ways you had never been before, in ways Amari had never done to you, initially creating a slight burn inside you but the more you bounced, the more your pussy became accustomed to her size. With each movement, you ascended and descended, leaving Shuri in awe as her jaw dropped, overwhelmed by the feel of your tight squeeze.

“Y/n…oh my…fuck.”

“That’s it, my love. Keep doing that. Just….fuck…unh, just let it out for me. Give it all to me.”

Both of you felt each other immensely; you felt her massage your throbbing walls, her tip pressing into your g-spot repeatedly while Shuri whimpered at your clench. Your movements were filthy, deliberate; pressing harder onto her dick with your needy grip. The sight of Shuri before you, completely vulnerable to your movements, was a sight you could cum from alone. Her mouth was open, moaning in her utmost pleasure as she watched the way your breasts bounced with your obscene tempo.

“Y/n…AH…I’m so close. You feel so good. W-wanna fill you up. Fill you u-up so f-fucking bad. Shit.”

She lost her mind the more you squeezed her, her mouth running obscenities in ways it never would if her body were not feeling this abundance of pleasure. She rolls her head back, her eyes following but you grab her chin, forcing her eyes on you.

“Look at me while you’re all fucked up, baby.”

She’s always had trouble with eye contact.

“UNH…y/n! AH.”

“What does it feel like, Shuri? Tell me how my pussy makes you fucking feel…shit.”

“I can-can’t. I can’t!”

“Yes you can…fuck. Yes you can.”

“Mmm.”

Once again, you grab her throat, wrapping both hands around her as you proceed to ride her. Her eyes bulge open, coming back to meet yours without hesitation as she attempts to breathe under your tight grasp. She so desperately wants to clasp your wrists or forearms for support, but her cuffed wrists will not allow it.

“Nod if you’re ok,” you demand for reassurance. She nods.

“Now tell me how I make you feel, Shuri.”

“You make me feel so good, y/n. You make my dick feel so fucking good, ah! I think I’m gonna c-cum.”

“Hold it.”

“I…I can’t, y/n, please.”

“Yes you can…and you will. Now open your mouth nice and wide for me.”

She obliged, her mouth wide open while her tongue sticks out, coated in her saliva, a perfect node for you to stick two of your own fingers down her throat and that’s exactly what you do. Shuri gags, a guttural sound as her throat bobs and it turns you on immensely. You do it again. And again. And she’s crying, tears spilling down her cheeks as your fingers plunge into her throat.

“You’re so beautiful, Shuri,” you moan, sucking harshly on her throat.

“Are y-you…close?”

“Don’t worry about me, baby. Shit…ah. This isn’t about m-me. Focus on you.”

“I’m gonna cum, y/n.”

“I know my love, I know. Go ahead….f-fucking spill for me.”

Shuri let loose a resounding scream, originating deep within her core and erupting from her mouth. Her moans carried a profound weight, echoing with sheer ecstasy, as you absorbed her throbbing dick that grazed your g-spot, her warm cum pouring inside you. It should have served as a warning, a signal to cease the merciless pumps, yet you persisted. Your pussy continued to caress her through it, fucking her until her sight became nothing but a black night. Tears cascaded down her cheeks, delicately clinging to her beautiful lashes at the way your pussy overwhelmed her.

“Bast…Y/n…pl-please. St-stop. UNH.”

“You want me to stop?”

“Mhmm.”

“Then look me in the eyes and tell me to stop.”

Her eyes come back to face you, her lenses stained with her tears that refuse to cease and she says nothing. Sobs rip from her mouth, a second orgasm approaching before she can even climb down from her first one.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

Shuri’s heart rate escalates beyond control, her chest tightening as the room around her becomes a blur. She’s panting, moaning as she’s taking it all in. An immense build up of pressure builds up in her dick once more, and she cum’s for the second time.

“Y/N.”

You don’t stop. The third time.

“Fuck! ANH!”

Fourth.

“STOP!”

“Stop?”

“Mhmmm.”

“No.”

You readjust yourself so your back is facing her, giving her the most perfect view of the way your cunt swallows her whole. You’re both so wet, so stained with cum as you proceed your brutal movements. Her hands that were at the back of your neck, are now at the front as she brings one to wrap around your throat for leverage. At this point, you had given up holding your composure of wanting to hold back how she felt inside you because she was heavenly and the more orgasms she had, the more swollen she became, filling you up more and more as her tip repeatedly hit that sensitive patch inside you.

“Fuck Shuri…just right there…r-ight fucking there, baby.”

“Y/n…”

“Mmmm. You’re such a good girl, Shuri. Cum again. Fill me up.”

“Y/N! UNH!”

“SHURI!”

You made no attempt to hide your orgasm this time, allowing yourself to be completely unraveled by her and the way she felt inside you. The blood coursed through your walls, causing you to expand and compress as you moaned through your pleasure. You placed your hand on top of Shuri’s hand, the one that gently compressed your windpipe and you pressed down, wanting her to squeeze harder.

“Choke me, baby. Choke me while I’m cumming for you. Please.”

She swallowed down a sob, but managed to perform the act. Shuri pressed firmly into your throat, forcing drool to pour out of your mouth as she choked you through your orgasm.

“Y-YES. AH!”

“I’m cumming again y/n, I’m cumming!”

Her grip on your throat increased as she suffered through her orgasm, unaware of how much she was restricting your oxygen intake but you were ok with that. As her hold on you is released, you come back around to face her, beginning to ride again in a tempo that shows how tired you truly were.

“S-stop…please.”

“Hmmm…?”

For a moment the room went silent, with nothing but the resounding sloshing of your bodies becoming one down below. She looked so ruined, so completely overtaken by you and your body and she was beautiful. Her eyes were so full of suffering yet so gentle as she took in her last view of the picture you created on top of her. You too were fucked out, mascara ruined and curls no longer as perfectly coiled as they once were but she reveled in the sight of you before she said it:

“T-tulips.”

You exhale. You sat on top of her, holding her as her strap remained inside you and you remained that way until your breathing patterns became somewhat normal. You hopped off slowly and the caress made her flinch.

“You are incredible, Shuri.”

As you release her bound wrists, she flinches at the slight pain. Faint indentations mark her skin where the tight material had pressed into it, and you tenderly plant affectionate kisses on those marks, filled with care and affection.

“You’re so beautiful,” you say, proceeding to kiss her wrists.

“Kiss me,” she begs. “I need you.”

She appeared so desperate, overwhelmingly craving your presence in that moment, and you couldn't help but discreetly roll your eyes and let out a soft chuckle. Not because Shuri's plea bothered you, but because you had come to a realization that you needed her just as deeply.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

You wake up to the embrace of unparalleled warmth, experiencing a level of comfort that had been absent from your life for some time. Shuri's tousled curls peek out from beneath the blanket as she lies beside you, her smell now sinking into its fabric. But that feeling was interrupted when you glanced at your phone and see numerous missed calls from Amari and you groaned in frustration as you pulled the blanket back over your head.

“Why is it you keep spending time with her if she makes you feel this way?,” Shuri asked, her voice startling you at first. She turned over to face you, both of you underneath your blanket.

“It’s none of your business, Shuri.”

For a moment, Shuri remained silent, a silence that became unsettling until she finally found her voice and spoke up for the first time.

“Last night you made me tell you what was bothering me, so now it’s your turn. Talk to me, y/n.”

“Uh huh…anyways.”

“Y/n.”

“What?”

“Can I tell you what I think?”

A genuine question, one that you know she’d most likely answer absolutely correctly and the thought bothered you, but you let her proceed anyway.

“Go ahead, Shuri. What will your brilliant mind conjure up this time?,” you say with an attitude causing Shuri to slightly giggle.

“I think you keep Amari around because…she makes you feel wanted just enough to make you stay. I think you’re a little broken, and it’s not your fault, because people keep hurting you. I think…I think you love deeply and passionately but you suppress that part of yourself because no one has ever made you feel the same, and so you dim your light in order to keep yourself from getting hurt again when in reality, all you want is to be loved the way you love.”

You felt a need to sob, to break down in front of her. You wouldn’t allow it, not yet anyway. You pulled yourself from underneath the blanket, and she did the same. She rests her back against your headboard and you straddle her, pulling her in for a kiss.

“And how did you figure all that out,” you say, allowing a feeble tear to escape your eye but you quickly wiped it away.

“I did really well in psychology.”

Her answer made you both laugh, a sound that made you desire her that much more.

“Of course you did, pretty girl…of course you did.”

“You know…you’re the first person to ever call me pretty. No one’s ever told me I was beautiful before.”

“What?? No way.” Your surprise was authentic, for while Shuri may not have been regarded as the epitome of coolness, she was undeniably one of the most breathtaking individuals you had ever encountered. Her visage possessed a divine quality, sculpted for the gods. Her curls sat perfectly on the top of her head, tumbling like a cascading waterfall upon her brow. Her lips were irresistible, difficult to pull away from, yet it was her eyes that captivated you the most. Deep and mysterious, almost concealed by her the frames that surrounded them, yet they always revealed a yearning that didn't go unnoticed by you.

You pull her in for a kiss once more, her lips leaving yours as she begins placing firm pecks into your neck. You grasp her curls, sulking in the way your body heated up at her touch.

“Can I taste you again? Please…”

“Damn…what’d I do to you?”

Shuri chuckles. “You’re so pretty y/n, literally the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.”

You feel a tear escape your duct once more and you do nothing to stop it.

“You have the most beautiful body, I love your stretch marks and your dimples on your back. And I love your rolls and your thick thighs, and I love how you’re unashamed to show them off. And this face…such a beautiful face.”

“Shuri…”

“And even though you’re mean, I kind of like that too. Because you’re a challenge…and I’m good at those.”

Her words flowed effortlessly, flawlessly woven together. It was a stark contrast to the hesitant, stuttering Shuri you had come to know. This version of Shuri standing before you had no trouble articulating her thoughts, stumbling over no obstacles. She exuded confidence in her desires, and her desire was directed solely at you. She nuzzled her face into the curve of your neck once more, sucking on the skin as she rendered you powerless. No one had ever made you feel this way, making love seem like a genuine and attainable possibility.

“Are you still gonna see Amari? Because I don’t want to have to compete for you…b-but I will if I have to because I want you.”

You remained silent for a moment as tears began shamelessly pooling out of your eyes as you grasp into her, holding her tightly as if it was your last time. A soft sob fell off your lips, pushing your face deeper into the nape of her neck. She smelt so good, a welcoming aroma that began to fog all your senses. Amari was no match for Shuri, there was never a moment you spent with her that made you feel as you’re feeling now with the woman before you at this very moment. Amari was one that only wanted you at her convenience, when you benefitted her, but Shuri…

“I want you, y/n…all the time and all to myself.”

“You don’t have to worry about her anymore, Shuri.”

You pull out your phone and block her immediately, your first sign to Shuri that she would have your full attention.

“Wow…look at you go,” she replies in a sarcastic tone.

“Oh, so you got jokes?”

“I’m actually really funny…you have yet to see that side of me.”

Vulnerability. Not your strongest suit, nor was it the easiest. But you wore it well. To Shuri, you looked beautiful, a testament to yourself that your heart was still as big and radiant as it once was, even after the numerous hurt you’ve endured that seemed to weather you down. And Shuri loved you, wanted to show you what it meant to feel as such, and for the first time in a long time, your shield of protection had been set aside as you allowed your tears to flow freely in expression of how much you absolutely loved her. ❁ཻུ۪۪♡

Prompts used by @pocketsizedpanther were:

Using Shuri’s throat as leverage while reader rides her

Tying her down and overstimulating her

#shuri x you #shuri black panther #shuri x reader #smut #shuri fanfiction #shuri smut #fluff #switch shuri #lesbian #sapphicvqmpires

649 notes · View notes

say-al0e · 2 years

Text

Don’t Let Go

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Steve Harrington was your best friend. He was the one person you swore would never hurt you. But when high school rolled around, Steve went searching for a place to fit in while you went searching for yourself. Now, years later, the universe has brought Steve Harrington back to your life and he doesn't plan on leaving again. | Ft prompt request: “I want you to be happy.” “You make me happy.” + “I think I’m in love with you.” + “You’re the only one who gets to call me that.”

Warnings: Absent parents (Steve’s parents), emotionally abusive parents (reader’s parents), Steve was kind of an asshole in high school (but not really), best friend!Eddie, Steve listens to Hall and Oates unironically.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!Reader

Word Count: 17.9k (I’m so sorry. I really, truly, terribly am.)

Stranger Things Taglist | Stranger Things Masterlist

Steve Harrington, dressed in a striped polo and the garish green Family Video vest, didn’t so much as bat an eye as you approached the counter.

There was no greeting, no forced customer service voice or Harrington charm - or lack thereof, as of late. Instead, he delivered a deadpan, “Someone else rented The Evil Dead,” as he continued stacking return tapes. “You really should just buy it at this point.”

The scent of his cologne, something woody that had always made your head a little dizzy - always blurred the sharp edges of your biting jabs and warmed the ice in your chest - enveloped you as you leaned against the counter. The surface was sticky beneath your elbows, as it always seemed to be, but you ignored it and grinned at him, cloyingly sweet.

“If I did that, how would I get to annoy you weekly?”

Annoying Steve was, originally, not your goal. The first time you stepped into Family Video, you’d only wanted to rent a movie - a handful of them, actually, for a movie night with Eddie. You’d been expecting to see Keith behind the desk, prepared to deal with his wandering eyes and slightly off-putting smile, but the sight that greeted you instead was a surprise.

News of Steve’s hire had spread - Robin was a friend, she’d excitedly shared the news almost immediately - but, almost naively, you believed Keith would remain at the desk and you would, blessedly, avoid Steve’s presence. You’d been doing it for years, sidestepping him every chance you got, but your luck ran out.

Though Steve was surprised to see you - the last time you interacted, it was after your high school graduation and you’d run off the moment you were allowed - he was polite, professional, almost friendly. There was a light in his eyes when he recognized you, a genuine curiosity when he asked how you were doing, and you were baffled because Steve Harrington hadn’t been nice to you in a long while.

You weren’t sure if it was the shock of seeing him, the surprise when he made an effort to be polite to you, or maybe it was the years of repressed anger at how he’d treated you in high school. Regardless, you could admit that the interaction wasn’t your finest moment. Every nicety he shared was met with snark, bitter and biting, and he deflated almost immediately.

Guilt bubbled on your drive home but some small part of you felt glad that you’d managed to leave with your dignity in tact.

Since that day, your interactions became more frequent - there was little else to do as you spent your summer in Hawkins - and seeing the twitch of Steve’s jaw when you met his kindness with snark made you feel just a touch better before it made you feel worse.

The roll of his eyes, the quiet huff of breath as he focused on sorting tapes into genres, made you laugh. “I’m not here for The Evil Dead this time, though. I’m looking for Nightmare on Elm Street. I want to make my parents regret locking me away on a Friday night.”

In a rare moment of annoyance - directed at you, anyway - Steve scoffed. “As if you were doing anything better with your night.” He paused, hands hovering above the counter as if he’d only just realized what he said, and you huffed. When you rolled your eyes, he spared you a glance out of the corner of his eye.

“It’s about the principle, Stevie. Spiting the parents and all.” You waved a hand, silver of your rings glinting in the florescent light - drawing soft brown eyes, half-lidded in exhaustion and exasperation - and frowned as you fixed him with an accusing look. “Tell me you wouldn’t do the same.”

Though it had been years since you’d last spoken about anything other than surface-level bullshit - chemistry exams and pep rallies, basketball scores and the weather, a fallen tree blocking the road to your houses - your bond had been forged in fire by commonalities few knew you shared.

The only real difference between your parents and his was that yours were occasionally racked by guilt - just enough self-awareness to demand a family night once every few months with the declaration that things would change, family time would become more important - before starting the cycle of neglect all over again.

Steve grimaced, a look that confirmed your assumption, as you shrugged. There was no need for him to confirm what you already knew to be true so you carried on. “Anyway, my brother’s coming home for the weekend so it’s time to pretend we’re a functional family.”

Another grimace - this one stemming from a place of understanding as Steve Harrington knew all too well what it was like to be forced to pretend - as he turned to face you. He leaned against the counter and folded his arms over his chest with a thoughtful frown. “I thought your brother got married. What’s he doing back here?”

He didn’t just think, he knew - he was at the first wedding, offered you a cigarette and sat with you in silence as you both sipped beer in outrageously nice outfits neither of you would wear again; a kindness you hadn’t expected from him, one that seemed to make no difference when he ignored your presence at school the following Monday - but you still smiled at him just the same, as if you knew something he didn’t.

This was the first time Steve Harrington had really looked at you - soft brown eyes fixed on your face, intent and flecked with something warm - in years. The weight of his gaze settled on your shoulders, suddenly made you feel fourteen and shy again, but you did your best to keep your hand from trembling as you reached out to straighten a stack of pamphlets.

“Haven’t you heard? He’s been married, and divorced, twice.” Steve winced - he’d looked up to your brother once upon a time, just as you had, and you knew that the trajectory of his life hit home for Steve - and you weren’t sure what possessed you to be so flippant (maybe it was payback, a sick desire to make him hurt in the same way he’d hurt you for years) but you added, “And you thought your personal life was shit.”

It was a low blow, you knew that - you regretted it the moment you said it - but it escaped before you could think twice. The flicker of good will, something more hopeful than you’d seen from Steve Harrington in years, disappeared in an instant. It was replaced with a roll of his eyes, an exasperated sigh that made your stomach turn, and you bit the inside of your cheek as he turned back to the pile of tapes.

“Nightmare’s on the horror shelf. You know where to find it. If that’s all, I’ll ring you up and you can go. I’ve got shit to do.”

As Steve focused his attention on the dwindling pile in front of him, you swallowed a heavy sigh that tasted bitter. There was no point in apologizing - neither of you had done that; him for abandoning you in pursuit of popularity, you for resenting him for wanting somewhere to belong - so you ignored the pang of regret stabbing at your chest.

“By all means, keep working, Harrington. The longer I linger, the less time I have to spend with the mirror-verse Cleaver’s. Annoying you is just a bonus.”

Though he made no effort to turn his attention back to you, you could see the way his brows furrowed in confusion. He blinked and the question was slow to escape. “Mirror-verse?”

“Yeah. From Star Trek? It’s, like, the evil twin universe.” Steve swallowed hard, a reaction that left you minutely confused, and grimaced as he shook his head. When he scoffed, you huffed. “You’re best friends with Dustin Henderson and the merry band of losers, dude. You’re, like, nerd bait. Don’t judge me.”

Steve sighed and turned back to you, ready to deny the obvious - or remind you that just because he spent time with nerds, he hadn’t exactly learned much - but before he could so much as open his mouth, the bell above the door chimed.

All too quickly, his demeanor changed. Steve smiled, his most polite, parent-pleasing grin, and you bristled. Warm brown eyes flickered to your face and away again so quick you were almost certain you imagined it but you averted your gaze, anyway, as you clenched your jaw.

Across the store, your mother stepped inside Family Video with a grimace. She looked entirely out of place, pristine and pretty in a grimy den of movies she’d hate even the thought of, but she still brightened considerably at the sight of Steve Harrington.

Once upon a time, she - like his mother - swore the pair of you were destined to be, fated to be married and spend the rest of your lives together. The only attention they ever paid to the pair of you was when you were together and, when Steve left you behind, you fleetingly wondered if that was the only reason he ever looked at you in the first place.

That wasn’t the case and you knew it.

Once upon a time, Steve was your best friend - had loved you more than anyone, spent every waking moment glued to your side - and it was because you were more alike than you were different. You lived similar lives, had similar childhoods, and complemented one another in ways that made your lives significantly better. Steve made you happy but, more impossibly, he made your parents happy.

When things changed, when your best friend Steve became King Steve and you turned invisible - became friends with Eddie Munson and tried to find yourself amongst the chaos of high school - your mother blamed you for ruining the future she’d imagined you’d have. She huffed and puffed, bitter and biting, when you started wearing black and listening to metal. And when you declared you would rather die than become a trophy wife for some rich asshole - someone like your father; someone you thought Steve would never be but could easily become, if he wasn’t careful - she refused to speak to you for a week.

When you lamented high school and all its difficulties, informed her that Steve Harrington was no longer your friend because he’d rather join Tommy and Carol in their relentless teasing than even pretend he knew you, she sniffed and reminded you that it was your own fault for choosing to be different. She told you that if you tried a little harder - put some effort into your clothes, wore a dress and fixed your hair and makeup - maybe things wouldn’t be so hard. And maybe Steve would still be your friend.

So, it was no surprise that she was happier to see him than you.

“Steve!”

She smiled, bright and brilliant, and paused just a step from the counter to take in the sight of him. Though you could both see her disdain - she’d lamented what a waste it was for him to remain in Hawkins, how awful his parents were being by cutting him off only to turn around and contemplate doing the same when you decided to attend a private university within driving distance rather than a larger school in the city - she was still glad to see him.

“What a pleasant surprise. How are you, sweetheart?”

As charming as he could be, Steve’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes as he spared you a fleeting glance. His shoulders were too stiff, knuckles a little too white as he held tight to the counter, but to someone like your mother - someone who didn’t bother looking any deeper into anything not entirely about her - he looked perfectly pleased to see her.

“I’m good.” Steve nodded, though you weren’t sure who he was trying to convince - her or himself - and, just as he’d been raised, politely declared, “It’s nice to see you. It’s been a while.”

The last time Steve had the (dis)pleasure of interacting with your parents was at graduation. Your mother and father showered him with praise, congratulated his barely passing GPA in a way that neglected your own straight A’s - lauded his accomplishment in a way they forgot to do for you - and didn’t bother batting an eye as he sheepishly explained away his own parents’ absence. It was fine that they were busy, your parents told him, he could just join your family for dinner at Enzo’s.

For three miserable hours, you sat pressed close to Steve - neither of you sharing so much as a single glance, picking at food neither of you really cared to eat - while your parents prattled on about nothing in particular. He shared another cigarette with you in the parking lot after but the only words you exchanged were half-hearted congratulations, a soft acknowledgement from him that your speech had been nice, uttered right before you ran from the parking lot to climb into Eddie Munson’s awaiting van.

Now, Steve spared you a tentative glance as your mother set her sights on you.

Beneath his understanding, there was something unreadable. The look in his eyes was a little sad, a little soft, but a fire blazed in them that you couldn’t quite comprehend. It wasn’t quite anger, didn’t burn that hot, but a sort of determination that you decided not to question.

Whatever Steve Harrington felt, it was no longer your business.

Still, the combined weight of their stares - hers an icy disappointment, his a warm understanding - flooded your mouth with a bitter copper. Your skin heated and heart hammered against your ribcage, battering your chest in a way that ached. And instead of chancing a glance at either of them, of meeting their eyes and being reduced to embarrassed tears, you pretended to study the tarnished metal of one of your rings.

With the pleasantries out of the way, your mother seemed to realize that you had yet to find a tape and huffed impatiently. “Why are you just standing here? And where is the movie? I told you to find something your brother would like. We should’ve been home fifteen minutes ago.” From the corner of your eye, you could’ve sworn you saw a twitch in Steve’s jaw as his gaze fell to the counter. “Next time, I’ll just find something myself.”

Another huff, one that needled at your already rubbed raw nerves and had frustrated tears prickling at the backs of your eyes, escaped your mother’s painted lips as she reached for a tape on the new release shelf. “Steve, dear, what do you think of this one? You know my son. Do you think he’d like it?”

When you finally chanced a glance at Steve, the weight on your chest grew impossibly heavier. He was never quick to anger, never outwardly volatile, but you remembered the little tells. The twitch of his jaw, the narrowing of his eyes, the set of his mouth; he was annoyed and you were embarrassed.

Without so much as a glance at the tape, he nodded. “Definitely.” His agreement was easy, sure, but his tone was mild and disinterested. He wanted her - and you - gone. “It’s been a hit. Everyone likes it.”

Steve’s less than glowing review was more than enough for your mother. She didn’t care, not really, so she nodded and slid the tape across the counter with a satisfied smile. “Then we’ll take it.”

In her own way, you knew that your mother meant it - she did really like Steve, though most people who got to know him seemed to, irritatingly enough - but that didn’t matter.

The only thing that mattered in that moment was how long it would take for you to make it out of the store and back home, how long until you could lock yourself in your bedroom and hide until your parents demanded you be sociable, how long until you could sneak out your window and ask Eddie for something to help you forget - how long until you could escape the suddenly pitying look Steve Harrington shot you as your mother dug through her bag for her wallet.

The look in Steve’s eyes - a nauseating combination of understanding and sympathy, sorrow and contempt - made it that much harder to hold yourself together. He knew your family, knew what your life was like behind the large house and rich parents, just as you knew the same about him. That mattered little, however, when you no longer knew one another.

Steve’s sympathy meant nothing to you, was more embarrassing than comforting, and he seemed to realize what you were feeling as he blinked and returned his attention to your mother. She simpered and Steve’s answering smile looked entirely artificial to you.

“Always so helpful, Steve.” She shot you a withering look then, one that clearly read ‘unlike some people,’ before offering him something a little more real. “It really has been nice seeing you, sweetheart. Don’t be a stranger.”

Then, without waiting for his reply and without so much as a word to you, she turned and headed for the door. She wouldn’t leave you - that would potentially tarnish her reputation, someone seeing you trudge home on the side of the road - but she would huff and puff the entire ride home, louder the longer you took to follow.

With a weak smile, one you knew Steve could see right through, you took the tape from the counter. “See you around, Harrington.”

If he offered a reply, it was lost to the ringing in your ears as you rushed from the store and into your mother’s idling car. And though she spent the vast majority of the drive home lamenting what could’ve been - “Steve is so handsome. If you hadn’t decided to be different, just to spite us, the two of you would’ve made such a beautiful couple. You might even be engaged by now! He’s such a nice boy. What a shame you spend all your time with those… freaks.” - you were grateful to have escaped Steve’s scrutiny.

The last person you wanted to pity you was Steve fucking Harrington.

When you arrived home, despite your mother’s sharp demands for you to stay put, you bounded up the stairs and locked yourself in your room. There was no chance she would follow - no chance anyone in your family would so much as make it halfway up the stairs to berate you - so you did little to stop the frustrated tears that fell as you took a seat on the floor beside your record player.

As you dug through the crate of records, searching for something loud your family would hate, you spotted the little white shoebox hidden behind it all. Your fingers shook as you reached for it, hesitant as you hadn’t opened it in nearly four years, but it was already difficult to catch your breath - tears already blurred your vision - so you tugged it free.

Very rarely was your mother right. In the case of Steve Harrington, however, she was rarely wrong.

Though you hadn’t decided to be different - you just were; your existence serving to spite your parents was just an added bonus of finding yourself - the decision to live the life you wanted rather than the one they wanted for you was the catalyst that destroyed your friendship with Steve.

At fourteen, Steve wanted nothing more than his parents’ approval. He was desperate, almost, in a way that you never were for them to pay attention to him. It mattered, more than almost anything else, and the thought initially made you sad.

He deserved better than a family that never really wanted him - a family that made him feel as if he had to earn their love - and you told him that. But Steve wasn’t quite ready to listen.

Steve liked sports but he pushed himself to the limit, practiced basketball and swimming in hopes of earning his father’s praise. He didn’t particularly care for Tommy or Carol or any of the other pretentious douchebags he managed to befriend, but their parents knew his and his were the most well-off, meaning he became something of a leader. His father seemed pleased he’d managed to become the leader of the pack, clapped his shoulder the first time he saw Steve take charge - grinned when someone called him ‘King Steve’ - so he kept at it, despite your declaration that he deserved better.

While he desperately tried to make his parents happy, you accepted that nothing you could ever do would be good enough for yours. There was no point in making yourself miserable seeking approval that would never come, no point in trying to be someone you weren’t. They would never be happy - even if you’d been their perfect little doll, they would’ve found some kind of flaw to fixate on - so you did what made you happy.

In the process, you and Steve lost one another.

In the beginning, Steve stood frozen whenever Tommy or Carol or one of his other friends chose you as the target of the day. He always looked conflicted, as if he was considering stepping in, but he never said a word. A few months into freshman year and he made himself scarce whenever you became the center of attention. There was always a girl he wanted to meet or a coach that needed him or a bathroom break he couldn’t wait to take and you wondered who he was really protecting - you or himself.

Though you’d known the same kids for most of your life, everyone seemed to have forgotten your friendship and you figured that, one day, Steve would, too.

The older you got, the less care Steve took to avoid being a part of Tommy or Carol’s tirades. He never instigated the attacks on you - was never the first to call you a freak or toss erasers at you in class - but he seemed almost resigned to their occurrence. Even the slight wince he once wore, a barely there twitch of his mouth whenever he realized you were the target of the day, disappeared with time. Instead, he looked on almost passively, as if he were watching something on television, not watching as his one-time best friend blinked back tears.

Eventually, he joined in on the fun.

For nearly two years, the sight of Steve filled you with as much dread as the sight of Tommy or Carol. He never took the first shot, was almost robotic in his mistreatment of you, but his jabs always managed to hurt the worst. The quips he hurled at you were never as graphic as Carol’s, never as biting as Tommy’s - always half-hearted, muttered because eyes were on him - but they cut far deeper than anything anyone else could level at you.

Steve’s insults were always performative but they chipped away at your heart each time. He knew you, had been the most important person in your life for so long, but that no longer seemed to matter.

Hellfire become your sort of protectors near the end of freshman year - Eddie Munson was never quick to violence, always had a worse bark than bite, but he ended up with his fair share of bloody noses and bruised knuckles on your behalf - and you grew to hate Steve Harrington.

Something changed in the middle of senior year - Steve came back from winter break almost resigned, deflated; seemed to become a shell of himself months later when Nancy Wheeler dumped him - and he suddenly kept his distance. He huffed orders for Tommy and Carol and the like to leave you alone, a sudden change of heart from the boy who’d been content to sit quietly for so long, but you no longer trusted him. You avoided him - turned your head any time he so much as glanced your way - and would’ve been content to forget you ever even knew him in the first place after graduation.

The universe, however, could be a bitch when provoked. Somehow, you’d managed to make a cosmic enemy and, for reasons unbeknownst to you, Steve Harrington began to worm his way back into your life.

First, he befriended Robin Buckley. For years, she’d been one of the only people outside of Hellfire you deemed safe enough to interact with at Hawkins High. Steve was once a pain in her side, too, but after a summer of working with him, she deemed him alright. Still, Steve was a forbidden topic when you spent time together - something you demanded, unfairly, you knew, but she respected - though, she did manage to sneak in a few words of praise here and there.

After that, he managed to become passively acquainted with Eddie by way of Dustin Henderson. The teenage pain was their only commonality, a shared ward who latched onto them both and received endless support in return, though both lamented their respective babysitting duties. Still, even Eddie had to give Steve credit where credit was due.

Outside of high school, away from Tommy and Carol and bullshit popularity politics, Steve Harrington wasn’t a bad guy and, as much as you hated being told, you believed it.

The Steve you remembered from a lifetime ago would’ve hated King Steve. He would’ve been horrified to see him be so complacent in your misfortune, would’ve called him pretentious and been annoyed by his very presence, and it hurt to be reminded of the past each time someone deemed Steve a nice guy. Your Steve, the Steve that was your best friend from age four to fourteen, was solidly good.

Sometimes, you missed him.

As your breathing grew more erratic, harder to control even as you inhaled through your nose and exhaled through your mouth, you dumped the contents of the shoebox onto the carpet. Immediately, a handful of photos caught your eye. The pile consisted of strips from a carnival photo booth, a stack of faded Polaroids, and a few photos taken by your mother on joint family vacations. In each one, Steve had an arm wrapped tight around your shoulders and was grinning bright, smile wider than you ever remembered seeing.

Scattered among the photos were little objects, trinkets Steve had given you - a charm bracelet he chose for your eighth birthday, including each charm he’d given you every year that followed; a snow globe from his trip to New York, featuring a miniature Statue of Liberty; a baseball, the first home run he ever hit, scribbled with a message thanking you for practicing with him; a locket, the gift he gave you on your thirteenth birthday, with a photo of you both stuck inside.

The most important object was the one that made you wonder if maybe your mother was right - if you’d just given in, lived the way they’d wanted and tried to be perfect, the daughter they imagined they’d have, maybe you and Steve would be engaged, well on your way to marriage by now.

It was a small, plastic ring - plucked straight from a bubble gum machine, complete with tacked on gemstones - but you remembered thirteen-year old Steve presenting it to you with a bright grin and glowing pink cheeks. He’d kissed you on the cheek, a quick peck that made your face heat, and held your hand for the rest of the night. You wore it, stuck on the same finger as your mother’s garish wedding band, until the first week of freshman year.

Now, instead of living in that world, one of which you dreamt nightly as a child - one you continued dreaming of occasionally until age sixteen, when Steve finally joined in on the fun of making your life hell, even if it was passive - you were stuck living in a world in which Steve Harrington just barely tolerated your presence.

This world, one in which you struck down every potentially positive interaction with him, saw you still mired deep in your betrayal. You still hurt, still tasted something bitter each time you allowed yourself to wonder ‘what if’ but you had half a mind to call Family Video and apologize for lashing out.

That was out of the question, however, as Steve would likely think you were joking and hang up on you. So, instead of humiliating yourself, you shoved the objects back into the box - taking great care to avoid breaking or creasing anything - and hid it away again, locked in the past where it could no longer hurt you.

With the box safely stowed away once more, you reached for the record player and switched it on - waited a moment for it to crackle to life. When Stevie Nicks began to flood your room, you fell back against the carpet and stared up at the ceiling. If you kept still, focused on your breathing, there was a chance your thoughts might slow as the opening notes of Bella Donna replaced the ringing in your ears.

As was usually the case, you lost track of how long you spent lying on the floor. The record needed flipping - you’d been lying in silence for what could’ve been hours, could’ve been only minutes - but the sounds of life carrying on around you played on a constant loop.

Your mother’s voice carried through the large house as she brushed off your absence by describing it as a temper tantrum. Your brother lamented the end of his second marriage, though you all knew it was his infidelity that brought him here. Your father clinked bottles as he mixed himself a drink, stoic and silent through the bullshit.

It was never-ending and you hated every moment of it.

A sharp tap against your window, long after night had fallen, finally broke the feedback loop. It captured your attention almost instantly, pulled you up from the floor with a stiff groan, and you scrubbed at your eyes - no doubt swollen and bleary from frustrated tears - as you wandered over.

It was likely a branch, fluttering in the cool spring air, but it could’ve just as easily been Eddie, bored and eager to break you free for a smoke session.

To your complete surprise, it was neither.

The sight that greeted you was enough to make you blink, rub your eyes a little harder and wonder if you’d fallen asleep - if this was some sort of truly ridiculous fever dream, inspired by your afternoon. But, as you pinched your wrist and blinked away the blur in your eyes, you realized that this was no dream.

Just as he had when you were barely teenagers, Steve Harrington stood beneath your window with a handful of pebbles and the ghost of a smile. He looked almost sad, melancholy, and you swallowed hard as you slid the window open halfway. When he realized your attention was squarely on him, Steve dropped the remaining pebbles in his hand and gestured for you to climb down.

There was a moment of hesitation, a question of why, but as a round of laughter echoed through the house - raucous and enough to make your blood simmer - you decided you didn’t care. His pity was the last thing you wanted but, in that moment, it seemed like a better alternative to remaining at home. You’d take Steve Harrington laughing at you over another moment trapped in your home.

With uncoordinated limbs, you gestured for him to wait before turning to rummage through your drawer for a sweatshirt - a security blanket of sorts. With it slipped over your head and shoes jammed onto your feet, you shoved the window open the rest of the way and pushed yourself through.

Steve stepped forward to help you to the ground, hand warm even through the fabric of your sweatshirt, and nodded - uncharacteristically quiet - at your soft declaration of thanks. The second you were steady, standing on your own two feet and blinking at him in the darkness, he took a step back. He cleared his throat, shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket, and gestured for you to follow him with a nod of his head.

A split second of hesitation and you followed.

The path you’d forged in the woods as children was still there, renewed by Steve’s trudging in the darkness, and muscle memory pulled you along the few yards that separated your backyard and his. He held back limbs for you, careful to keep from hitting you with them as he stepped steadily through the brush, and held open the gate when you finally stepped into his backyard.

When the limbs cleared, you could see that he’d prepared for your arrival. Two sodas sat on the small table by the pool - a Coke for him, a Sprite for you - and a blanket rested on the chair to the right. Steve didn’t bother looking at you as he continued on. He crossed the concrete, settled into the chair on the left, head tipping back without so much as a word, and you were grateful.

Whatever this was - whatever reason Steve had to be nice, to go out of his way to resurrect a long dead practice from your childhood - brought tears to your eyes. You scrubbed at them to keep them from falling, swallowed the emotion burning the back of your throat, and followed him.

If he noticed - and, fleetingly, you assumed he had; Steve had proven himself to be a quick study, understanding in a way you didn’t remember - Steve said nothing. He remained uncharacteristically silent, not a single witty quip, and seemed content to sit side by side, sipping sodas and staring up at the stars.

As you draped the blanket over your legs, you allowed yourself a moment to reminisce.

This was, at one point, a regular occurrence for you both. After rough days - days your parents were particularly harsh, days his parents broke another promise - Steve trudged through the woods to fetch you. He plied you with soda and candy, junk your parents never let you have, and waited - patient, quiet - for you to decompress.

When your heart began to calm, the hammering against your ribs slowing to a steady thump for the first time since leaving Family Video, you realized just how much you’d missed it.

Steve remained silent beside you for a long while, stretched out in the chair in a way that told you he’d continued this practice long after you were gone, and you took the opportunity to study him.

There were elements of your Steve still there - the depth of his eyes, brimming with a thousand different emotions so deeply felt; the slight frown as he lost himself in thought, lips curling in the corners; the flutter of his lashes as he blinked away something that could potentially truly trouble him - buried beneath the hair and the cologne.

But, just as he did when you were thirteen, Steve Harrington still made your stomach flip.

It always irked your nerves that, even when he was the bane of your existence, you still believed Steve to be the most handsome boy you’d ever seen. It was unfair, cruel, but you blamed the years you spent in love with him for your infatuation.

Now, the sight of him bathed in the moonlight - worn by the world, older and maybe wiser, but still just as handsome as ever - had you spiraling in a way that you didn’t like at all.

The longer you stared, the more desperate you felt to break the silence. And though you hated to pop the blissful bubble surrounding you, the words filled your throat and threatened to choke you. There was nothing you wanted more than to pretend - to lay in silence as if nothing was wrong, as if your lives hadn’t changed entirely since you last shared a moment like this, as if you could exist beside Steve Harrington and not panic a little - but you couldn’t.

“Steve?” Even at a whisper, you flinched at the sudden sound. Steve, however, looked unsurprised by the call of his name. He tilted his head, flashed those warm brown eyes at you - glittering with a look you couldn’t quite read - and waited as you blinked. “I’m sorry.”

Whatever he’d been expecting, your apology was clearly not it. His mouth curved into a soft, confused frown as he pushed himself up to rest on an elbow. With furrowed brows, he asked, “You’re sorry? For what?”

For shooting down his efforts at civility, for dragging him into an awkward moment with your mother, for not following his lead in high school, for falling in love with him as a child and desperately hopping he would remain your Steve, for not being a person he could’ve loved in return - for being a mess who, despite no longer being friends, still needed his saving.

Each reason you considered sounded more pathetic than the last and you regretted breathing the words aloud in the first place. But when he looked at you, imploring you to speak - to give him an answer you couldn’t give anyone else - you shrugged.

“You’ve been trying. I’ve been mean.”

Immediately, Steve shook his head. He pushed himself to sit up straight, tossed his legs over the side of the chair and rested his elbows on his knees as he looked at you - really, truly looked at you.

It felt as if Steve could see into your soul as he searched your face. Gone was the boy you knew - a little awkward, a little misplaced confidence, a lot of heart - and in his place was a man you barely recognized. He shook his head once more, eyes falling to his hands, and laughed quietly.

“That’s… Don’t apologize for that. I deserved it.” He sighed then, a sound so exhausted you wondered how you hadn’t noticed the light purple beneath his eyes before that moment, and ran a hand through his hair. “I deserved a lot worse than that, honestly. I’m the one who should apologize. I’m sorry for…” He laughed, a rueful sound that made your chest ache, and dragged his hand through his hair a little harder. “I’m sorry for high school. I was a dick. I didn’t… I never meant to -“

Steve cut himself off with a sharp breath, words running together as he searched for just the right thing to say - the words he needed to adequately convey his feelings, his remorse - and you shook your head.

“I know. It’s okay, Steve.”

It wasn’t - not really - and you both knew that.

Though you understood, to a certain degree, there were still moments that left you reeling. There were moments seared into your memory that you would likely never get, regardless of his explanation, and a sense of betrayal that would fade with time.

But hearing a real apology from him, something heartfelt and sincere - honest, raw and vulnerable in a way he once often was with you - would break the dam holding you together. It would clip the fragile thread of stability you were clinging to desperately and, though he’d seen it before, Steve was now the last person you wanted to witness you breaking into a thousand little pieces.

Steve knew, seemed to realize just how close to shattering you were, and nodded. He turned, settled back into the chair, and rested his head against the metal bar. He shifted, weighing his words, before sparing you a glance from the corner of his eye. “It wasn’t cool, though.”

Your quiet laughter, tinny and hollow, covered the soft sounds of night. “No, it wasn’t. But it is what it is.” Though you knew you should bite your tongue, accept his apology for what it was and move on, you couldn’t help yourself. “It hurt but I wasn’t surprised.”

A flash of hurt crossed Steve’s face, so quick you almost missed it, and you wished you could take it back. However, before the words could linger too long - before you could stumble through another apology - he turned to look at you. There was something sad, a little more upset than you would’ve imagined, as he searched your face. “What d’you mean, you weren’t surprised?”

“We just… we went in different directions.” You laughed again - a soft sound that lacked any humor - as you shook your head. “Everyone loved you. Star basketball player, swim captain, prom king, ladies’ man; you were the shit. I played Dungeons and Dragons with Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson and spent my days hiding from guys who thought it was so funny to ask me out as a joke. I didn’t expect you to, I dunno, save me, or something, just because we were friends when we were kids.” You shrugged, avoiding Steve’s eyes as you leaned back against the chair. “Our friendship was too perfect. Nothing that good lasts forever.”

Steve’s jaw twitched, the only outward sign of his frustration - not at you, something you realized the moment he sighed, the moment he dragged a rough hand through his hair - as he smiled, a rueful grin. “Pessimism looks good on you.”

A surprised laugh escaped as you shook your head. “Thank my parents. One of the many impressive things they’ve given me. I can make myself, and everyone around me, sad in two seconds flat.” You scoffed, shook your head and turned your attention away from Steve’s sudden look of understanding to the stars glimmering above you. “It’s a real gift.”

Silence lingered for a beat and you had half a mind to apologize, this time for giving in to the instinctual cynicism you used to protect yourself, but Steve spoke before you could walk back your statement. His words were careful, almost hesitant, as he began, “Your mom today…”

That explained why he’d made the effort.

Your sigh was heavy, long suffering, but Steve was not someone you had to pretend with. If anyone understood what it was like to live with parents who never really cared one way or another, it was Steve. The foundation of your relationship was built on comforting one another, swearing that you would be better than your parents someday, and it wasn’t as if this was the first time he’d witnessed something like this.

Steve had seen worse - so had you - so, despite your embarrassment, you made no effort to apologize for her behavior.

Another sigh, this one impossibly heavier, escaped as you spared Steve a glance out of the corner of your eye. He looked conflicted, his fingers twitched as if he was contemplating reaching out - offering the physical comfort he knew you once loved, once craved - but seemed to think better of it and wrapped his fingers around the nearly empty Coke can.

“They’ve gotten worse over the years,” you began, words bleeding into the dark as you tapped at the metal of your can. “I’ve been working, saving up money. I want to transfer to a school in Indy. I had a good scholarship when we graduated but I qualify for a full one now and I’ve almost got enough saved for a few months’ rent on an apartment.”

“Why’d you stay in the first place? You got into a bunch of schools, had a ton of scholarship offers.” When you spared him a cursory glance, unsure how he knew - hardly anyone knew, not even your parents - Steve smiled. “Robin told me.”

Since learning the story of your former friendship, Robin had made it her mission to reunite you and Steve. She swore he was still the guy you remembered, if only a little bruised by time, and promised to keep him in line. “It’ll be easier,” she declared once, “if we can all just hang out together. You guys are acting like divorced parents and I’m the kid in the middle.”

Steve’s searching gaze made your skin prickle. You warmed considerably beneath his scrutiny as he waited, patient as ever - genuinely curious, for your answer.

“I got a few good scholarships, but none of them were full rides. My parents would’ve paid the rest but I just… I didn’t want to owe them anything.”

Once again, Steve understood. He knew what it was like, desperately trying to avoid being indebted to parents who would hold even the smallest gift over your head, and made a quiet noise of understanding as he sipped at the remainder of his Coke.

As the conversation lulled, neither of you quite certain what to say to one another, you turned to study Steve.

There was a certain air about him that had always been there, an easy confidence that often saw him asking for forgiveness rather than permission, but he was older now. His confidence was less showy - less flash, more substance; an earned knowledge of who he was, who he had become - but beneath it, there was a softness that he no longer seemed to shy away from.

Steve was, once upon a time, vulnerable with you and only you. He trusted you, showed you a softness that no one else was privy to, but these days, he seemed to wear his heart on his sleeve and you were glad. It made him more approachable, easier to truly see, and you saw flashes of him - little moments here and there as he flirted with girls at Family Video, pieces of his heart as he interacted with Dustin and Robin and Eddie - but there was a sadness beneath it all that hadn’t existed the last time you were this close.

Years had passed since you’d spoken to Steve for this long, let alone this in-depth, but you were reminded of just how easy it had always been to let him. Steve understood you and the ease with which you spoke, the way your heart calmed and your breathing grew easier, frightened you deeply.

There were still bitter feelings lingering, shards of hurt buried deep in your chest - anger, betrayal that he’d managed to forget your past in a matter of moments when it haunted you for years - but you understood. His apology would’ve explained what you already knew to be true, that he was just trying to belong, doing what he felt he had to, and that was the hardest pill to swallow.

Steve never meant to hurt you - the guilt that lingered in every glance he spared you assured you of that - but you still feared letting him into your life once more. There was no fear that he would repeat his past actions - that, you could handle, though you knew without so much as a second of doubt that he wouldn’t dream of it - but you feared the return of feelings long since buried.

Every feeling you ever harbored for him had been locked away tight, shoved into a box in the back of your mind - one that resembled the little shoe box in your room. Steve was your first love, the first boy you’d ever even considered wanting as more than a friend, and getting over him the first time had been nearly impossible.

Deep down, you knew that you’d never fully gotten over him - regardless of how awful he’d been at the time, of how earth shattering it had all seemed, he’d been your Steve for so long that it was almost denial. There was little chance you could escape a second round with your heart firmly in tact but, when he turned to look at you and offered you a small smile, eyes shining with a sort of hope you couldn’t recall ever seeing from him, you knew that you were doomed.

When he spent the next four hours plying you with embarrassing stories about Robin, about Eddie, about the children - all featuring him as the bumbling idiot, likely played up for your amusement - just to make you laugh, the impending sense of doom faded into something a little more resigned.

And when he walked you back home, shuffling in the first slivers of sunlight with a hand on your elbow to keep you upright as you blinked away sleep, your fate was sealed. As he helped you climb back to your room, standing beneath the ledge to make sure you made it safely - throwing a hand up in parting, a genuine smile on his lips - you knew that there was no use fighting it.

The universe had, without any sense of mercy, thrown Steve Harrington back into your life.

Still, change didn’t happen overnight.

Though something shifted - your world, the planets themselves - there was no expectation on your part that Steve would suddenly return to the best friend you once knew no did you want him to. You needed time, as did he, and you appreciated the little distance he kept as a week passed without any sort of contact.

There was no deluding yourself into thinking that he would become a near permanent fixture in your life again. If you were honest, you imagined his friendship would be relegated to mutual hangouts with Robin or the odd encounter as you waited for Eddie and he waited for Dustin. There was potential for a movie night, stuffed on the couch with him and other friends, or another night by his pool - both lamenting your lives.

But, as if summoned by the thought of him - the question of whether you should call and say thanks, tell him you appreciated his heroism in your hour of need - Steve popped back into your life.

You marveled as you found yourself standing in your kitchen, watching as he piled pizza onto a plate. He’d stopped by with the order you used to share weekly - half his favorite, half yours - after dropping Dustin and Robin at their respective homes. He knew your parents were out of town, as were his, and figured you hadn’t eaten yet.

Steve was almost sheepish as he explained himself, a little shy in a way you never would’ve associated with Steve Harrington previously, but you didn’t bother questioning it. Instead, you let him in and watched as he moved about your kitchen with startling ease.

It was almost surreal, watching him wander around the space as if he’d always known it - watching him gather plates and glasses, shuffle through the fridge in search of soda. But, in a way, he had. As children, Steve spent more time at your home than he did his own. Not much had changed since the last time you’d lived this exact moment - the only real difference was your age and his hair - but it still surprised you that he’d managed to remember his way around after all these years.

Another key difference, one that reminded you exactly how much time had passed, was the silence.

As children, it was nearly impossible to keep the pair of you quiet. Steve spent many nights at your house, lying in bed with you, and nearly every time, you were reprimanded time and again by your annoyed parents for being too loud. Hours were spent giggling, chatting about nothing - just listening to yourselves speak, so your parents alleged, but you’d shared everything; dreams, plans for the future, declarations that things would be different.

Now, it seemed as if neither of you knew where to start the conversation.

The silence wasn’t uncomfortable - over the years, you’d both grown used to it - but, in that moment, your chest ached in a way that made you feel as if this particular silence needed filling. You’d spent the week desperately trying to avoid thinking about Steve - something that backfired and managed to turn most of your thoughts into ones about him - and what you wanted to say to him. There were years of thoughts and feelings bottled up tight, ready to be spilled, but uncorking any of that had the potential to ruin the delicate work being put into rebuilding your friendship.

So, you opted to smile at him - soft and sweet, saccharine in a way he wouldn’t expect - and play it safe.

“I think it’s nice, you know?” Steve lifted his head, glanced away from the pizza he’d been piling onto his plate, and raised an eyebrow in search of the context missing from your statement. “The time you spend with Dustin, Henderson, the kids,” you supplied as you glanced away and reached for your own plate. “Being all dependable and shit for them, being a good friend to Robin. Being civil to Eddie. It’s nice.”

Steve faltered for a brief moment, uncertain, before shaking his head. He looked ready to deny the obvious, something dismissive on the tip of his tongue, but you laughed before he could. “I’m serious. You’ve always been a good guy beneath all that hair, Steve. I’m just glad you found your way back to it, let other people see it. You got away from Tommy and Carol and all their bullshit, you left the high school rat race behind. You came back to the Stevie I knew way back when and I’m glad.”

A beat of silence, marked by Steve’s lack of response, pulled your attention away from the pizza box and back to him. His expression was unreadable, warm eyes clouded with something that made your stomach flip - something uncertain, something a little sad, a little introspective - but he covered it quickly with a half-smile when you met his eyes.

“You’re the only one who’s ever gotten to call me that, you know?” Steve’s smile grew a touch brighter when you blinked, surprised. “Stevie. It was always your name for me. It never felt right coming from anyone else.”

The declaration was soft, spoken into the warmth of your kitchen with a reverence that made your heart skip - one that made your cheeks heat and had your stomach filling with butterflies - and you swallowed the emotion gathering in your throat with a sip of soda. It was a small gesture, something that likely meant nothing, but it filled you with a blinding warmth, just the same. “I’m honored, Stevie,” you returned, smile soft, tone just as reverent.

Silence settled again - this one significantly more tolerable; less awkward, more bashful - but, as you watched Steve move, you felt no need to break this one. He stepped around you easily, moved with you, and you smothered every thought of how natural the interaction felt.

As you bother attempted to gather yourselves - you, choking down every returning teenage dream, every fantasy long since buried; Steve, swallowing the uncertainty, the guilt - you spared fleeting glances at one another. Each time your eyes met, you both turned away, suddenly shy, suddenly ashamed at being caught. The tips of Steve’s ears tinted red, burning bright when he tilted his head just so, and you knew that your face was warm to the touch.

It was strange, feeling this bashful in his presence, when a week ago, you had no problem looking him in the eye and snapping something that would hurt his feelings. Realistically, you knew that it was a safety net - a way to keep yourself safe, to guard your heart from any further damage at the hands of Steve Harrington - but before you could make a joke, return to your snark, Steve cleared his throat.

“I, uh, I know you said it was okay,” he began, voice quiet as he glanced at you from beneath his lashes, “but I’ve been thinking.” He leaned against the counter, folded his arms over his chest, and swallowed heavily as he took a moment to gather himself. “I just… I need to say this, okay?”

There was little room for you to question where the conversation was headed - there was only one topic that was relevant enough to warrant proper discussion. His apology was a long time coming, something you knew he needed more than you did, so you nodded. “Yeah, okay.”

Steve ran a hand through his hair, fingers dragging through the strands a little too rough to be a casual gesture, and you bit the inside of your cheek so hard you tasted copper as you waited with bated breath. He kept his eyes on the floor, not quite able to look you in the eye, and frowned.

“Everything that happened,” he began, words measured and clumsily falling from slightly chapped lips, “was on me. Even if we weren’t meant to be friends or whatever, I should’ve tried harder. You were always the person who believed in me, the one who was there for me, no matter what. I should’ve tried harder to stop Tommy and Carol and all the other assholes. I shouldn’t have been a dick to you, either. I was stupid,” he confessed, blinking hard against the light in the kitchen as he lifted his eyes to the ceiling - unable to meet yours as he continued on. “I was just trying to make people who didn’t matter like me. All I did was make the one person that actually did like me, hate me. And I’m sorry.”

Each word rang in your ears, repeated until you could barely hear the rest of his apology over the thudding of your heart - each beat hammering against your ribcage with enough force to leave you breathless. The acknowledgement made you want to give in to the pressure building in your chest, made you want to break apart into a thousand little pieces, but you gripped the counter and swallowed the copper flooding your mouth.

As Steve shook his head, lowered it to look at you, you could see the expression on his face. There was a guilt there, laced with something akin to awe - a reverence you’d never seen before that suddenly made your skin prickle with goosebumps - and you blinked back the tears threatening to fall.

“Steve.”

There were a million things you wanted to say, a thousand words stuck on the tip of your tongue - entire novels you could spout, devoted entirely to what you’d spent years thinking about - but nothing seemed quite right. Though you’d imagined this moment for years, desperately hoping it would come, now that it was upon you, you were stunned silent.

The acknowledgement that he’d hurt you, that you were right - he’d only been looking to belong, to fit, to find a family - and he regretted it was all you’d ever wanted. To hear it breathed aloud, spoken into the still of your kitchen from the mouth of an older, more mature Steve Harrington, was something straight out of a dream.

The apology didn’t erase everything that had happened - you both knew that - but it was a start. This was the first step, guiding you both in a new direction, and as you stood with a quivering bottom lip and shaking breath, Steve seemed to understand. He laughed, a sound that rang hollow over the blood rushing in your ears, and nodded.

“I know.” His mouth twisted into a rueful smile, something that openly displayed his regret, as he sucked in a deep breath. A shadow flickered across his face before he deflated entirely and shook his head. “You don’t have to… I know.”

Though it had been years since you’d had a meaningful conversation with Steve, he still seemed to be able to read you. He knew that you were overwhelmed, knew that your emotions were quickly getting the better of you - could see that your breathing had grown a touch shallow, that your chin quivered and your blinking grew more rapid - and that he was no longer someone you trusted with your upset.

Instead of pushing, he allowed his declaration to linger for another beat before clearing his throat. With that, he broke the spell, cracked in half by the scrubbing of his shoe against tile, and you were glad.

“I, uh, I missed you,” he confessed, a little hesitant - a little awkward - as he stepped forward to grab his plate. He spared you a glance from beneath his lashes and suddenly looked very much like the fourteen year old he had been the last time he stood in your kitchen. “Uh, hanging out with you. Being friends. I missed that.”

His explanation was rushed, clumsy in a way you weren’t used to for him, but it made you smile. It reminded you that he was human, still just some guy, and the feeling was mutual. You’d missed Steve more than you cared to admit, more than he needed to know, so you nodded. “Yeah.” Steve’s smile grew a touch more genuine as you nodded, really lit his eyes when you confessed, “I know the feeling.”

It wasn’t eloquent, nowhere near the novel you imagined spouting before you lost hope Steve would ever return to your life, but it was enough. It adequately conveyed your desire to start over and Steve seemed pleased, happy you hadn’t pushed him away entirely.

Steve smiled a little brighter before he blinked and suddenly patted the pocket of his jacket. “I, uh, I brought a tape. Thought, maybe, we could watch a movie?”

From the inside pocket of his jacket, Steve produced a copy of The Evil Dead, battered and worn but clearly labeled - and marked with a Family Video sticker. It was a moment of surprise, the tape having been produced so quickly it made your head spin, but the levity helped you swallow the lump of emotion lodged in the back of your throat.

Unable to help yourself, you laughed as you grabbed your own plate and turned to guide him - needlessly, he knew the way - to the living room. “You don’t really strike me as a horror guy, Harrington.”

Steve followed close behind, his cologne clouding your senses - overwhelming in the most delightful way, a scent that made your head dizzy and your heart race; one that filled your nose and would linger in your memory as you picked apart every moment of your interaction later - and you struggled to keep your tone as light as possible as you spared him a sideways glance.

The observation was met with a laugh, a sound that confirmed your belief, as you took a seat at one end of the couch. “I’m totally not.” You tried not to laugh at his grimace, not wanting to add insult to injury, but Steve took no offense as he settled at the opposite end of the couch. “You rent it, like, twice a month, though, so I thought I should see what all the fuss is about.”

There was more space than necessary between you, your body pressed into one end of the couch while Steve pressed himself against the other, but it was understandable. Despite your history, despite the hundreds of sleepovers you had as children and the countless hours you spent pressed together, this - whatever was building, brewing between you both; whatever you’d managed to rekindle, resurrect - was new.

Regardless of how familiar some things felt - Steve’s smile, the quiet understanding you still somehow shared, the soft look in his eyes as he tilted his head to study you - everything was different. Everything had changed.

Letting Steve back into your life was a choice, one you made the moment you saw him standing beneath your window, and you knew that nothing would ever be exactly as it had been. He wasn’t the same Steve you remembered - not exactly, not quite close enough - but you weren’t the same girl he remembered, either.

The differences were glaring, more than evident as he cowered into the couch, pizza half-eaten and mouth twisted into a grimace with each bloody scene that flashed across the screen. Though the film was campy, not quite as terrifying as another horror film, Steve still seemed perturbed by the gore.

As the movie played on, you paid more attention to Steve than the familiar images flashing. He looked entirely unenthused - a far cry from Eddie, who sat with his nose pressed to the glass and watched with rapt attention and an almost childlike glee - but he never breathed a word of discontent. Each time he sensed you staring, eyes roving his face, he spared you a quick glance and the ghost of a smile. He was trying, that much was evident, and the thought was enough to make your body warm from within.

“Steve?”

A flash of relief, clearly illuminated by the light from the television, crossed his face as Steve took the opportunity to turn his attention from the television to you entirely as a particularly bloody moment unfolded. If you hadn’t been so focused, so caught up in your own thoughts, you would laughed at his sigh of relief. “Yeah?”

For a brief moment, you allowed the movie to fill the silence - allowed his eyes to rove your face in search of an answer - and frowned as his brows furrowed. He’d been gradually shifting closer, a few inches every so often, and nearly closed the gap between you as he tilted his head to get a better look at you.

As he shifted closer - just enough to feel the warmth radiating from his body - his scrutiny was enough to make your heart race. It hammered so hard against your ribcage that you feared it might crack and you hoped your voice wouldn’t shake as you tilted your head to meet his eyes.

“I never really hated you. I wanted to,” you admitted, voice soft - barely audible over the sound of the movie, but Steve heard you clearly. He inhaled sharply, the only sign of his discontent, as he waited patiently for you to continue. “I just… I couldn’t hate you. I hated Tommy and Carol and Billy and everyone else. I hated high school. I hated the circumstances. I hated our parents. But I never hated you. I don’t think I ever could. I get why everything happened the way it did. I don’t… I don’t blame you. And it’s all water under the bridge now, yeah?”

Steve swallowed hard, blinked harder, and you could see his chest rising and falling just a touch faster than normal as he searched your face. Warm brown eyes mapped your skin, wary of any hint of dishonesty - any sign that you felt forced to accept his apology - but when he found none, he nodded. The look in his eyes wasn’t quite relief, not quite joy, but a light that made it harder for you to breathe as the corner of his mouth turned up in a half smile.

“Yeah. Okay.” Steve nodded once more, a resolute gesture that you returned easily, before tilting his head to return his attention to the television. Another spatter of blood made him grimace but that did little to stop him from breathing a quiet, “Thanks,” as he nudged your shoulder with his own.

Desperate to change the topic, to move on to something safer - something that didn’t involve feelings, something that didn’t require emotional gymnastics - you laughed quietly at his grimace. “Do you want to watch something else? I think you’ve suffered enough for one night. I’ve got Robin Hood. Only normal movie in the place, though, I’m afraid.”

The knowing smile Steve shot you was not quite what you expected. “Y’know,” Steve began as you pressed pause, “that doesn’t really surprise me.” His eyes glittered with a grateful mischief and you raised a brow as he laughed. “I remember when we were kids, you loved that movie. I think you asked your parents to get you a bow for Christmas three years in a row before you stopped.”

“It was four.” Steve hummed, waved a dismissive hand as you stood from the couch to change the film, and you shot him a teasing grin. “Imagine if they’d gone for it, though. I’d be, like, on some kind of watchlist by now, probably.”

“I hate to break it to you,” he began, grin badly concealed as he reached for the discarded pizza on the table, “but with the amount of times you rent The Evil Dead, you’re probably already there. Do you watch anything else?”

Steve’s grin was comfortable, teasing and soft in a way you hadn’t seen in years, and it sent butterflies swarming in your stomach as you slipped Robin Hood into the VCR. The taunt was in good fun, the jab of a friend, and it made you roll your eyes good-naturedly as you returned to your seat, knee knocking his as you sat.

“Just because you have bad taste, Stevie, doesn’t mean you should be concerned. I mean, look at your taste. You like Hall and Oates. No one likes Hall and Oates. That’s enough to get you put on a watchlist, not liking horror.”

His knee knocked yours, body heat radiating even through thick denim, as Steve scoffed in faux outrage. “Hall and Oates are good!” His defense was louder than he intended, a teasingly outraged roar as he turned to you, eyes glittering in the dim living room light. “They’re real music. Not like…” He frowned, eyes narrowing as he met your gaze. “I can’t even name anyone you might listen to to make fun of you.”

“Black Sabbath, Iron Maiden, Judas Priest, Motörhead, Megadeth, Metallica?” Steve stared blankly, blinking after each name, before shaking his head when you allowed the question a moment to linger. You huffed, unsurprised but still feigning disappointment, and Steve laughed. “Okay, if this,” you waved a hand between the pair of you, “is going to work, we’ve gotta get you educated. Metallica has a new album coming out and it’s gonna be out of this world. Ozzy, from Black Sabbath, he’s gone solo and his stuff’s killer. Totally insane. That’s real music. Not fuckin’ Hall and Oates.”

“I don’t know who any of those people are,” Steve admitted, laughing quietly as he shook his head, “but I’ll take your word for it.” He paused, tilted his head to meet your eyes once more, and smiled just a little softer. "Next time, you can educate me.”

The brief consideration that you would be given nothing more than this, a few chance meetings with an old friend, had been enough to make your chest ache, and the relief you felt at realizing that would not be the case worried you. Though it warmed you considerably, made your nerves buzz in the most pleasant of ways, there was still the question of why.

So much time had passed, years had gone by without so much as a kind word shared between the two of you, that you couldn’t quite understand Steve’s motivation. There was the chance that he’d missed you in the same way you’d missed him - felt that there was a void in his life, a blank space where there was once a piece of a larger puzzle - but there was also the chance that he was simply lonely. As far as you could tell, his social circle had minimized to little more than Dustin and Robin.

There was a chance that you were all he had left.

That thought did little to comfort you - you wanted him to desire your presence the same way you’d desired his, wanted him to have missed you in the same way you’d missed him - but you decided not to dwell on it. If Steve wanted to remain in your life for whatever reason, you would allow it. You were older, had more experience dealing with the crushing blows life could deal. Steve Harrington couldn’t hurt you much more than he already had; letting him have a piece of your heart, the piece that had always belonged to him, anyway, was going to happen whether you wanted it to or not.

The only thing you could do was temper your expectations.

There was no expectation that this would be anything more than friendship - something safe, a comfortable return for the both of you; a relationship you both needed if you were to continue living in Hawkins. As beautiful as you found him, as in love with him as you’d once been, that ship had long since sailed.

Steve had been your friend once - had only ever been your friend. There was nothing more there, no matter how desperately you’d once hoped for something more. Reminding yourself of that from the beginning would make the inevitable heartbreak that much easier.

As you thought, lost yourself to questions of what could be - what had already been - and harsh reminders of why this was a line of thinking you couldn’t afford to barrel down, the sound of Disney dreams echoed through the dim living room. Steve rested at your side, head cradled by the back of the couch, and seemed more relaxed than you’d seen him in a long while.

It was easy to lose yourself in something that felt so safe. Moments like this, sheltered safely away from family and losing yourself in the presence of Steve Harrington, had always been a great source of comfort. It was easy to forget nearly everything troubling you, to delude yourself into thinking that this was a safe space, and evidently, Steve felt the same as you both began to drift.

The exhaustion of your week crept up on you slowly, muddled the mess of thoughts crowding your brain and blurred the images dancing on the screen. Work had been grueling, busier than normal, and the presence of your brother meant that you were walking on eggshells with every step you took at home. Before you realized what you were doing, your head began tilting in the direction of Steve’s shoulder.

For a moment, you rested there. It was easy, settling against Steve as you had so many times as a child, but just as you did the first time this happened - a lifetime ago now - you lifted your head when he shifted.

Steve smiled, an exhausted quirk of his mouth, as you shook yourself awake. You shot him a sheepish grin, apology on the tip of your tongue as you blinked away sleep, but he silenced it with a soft laugh. He reached for the blanket draped over the back of the couch and settled it over your laps, thigh pressed to yours as his arm wrapped around your shoulders. It was once a natural position, you wrapped in his arms as the world passed you by, and you blamed the exhaustion muddling your brain for the way your body melted into his instead of jolting away.

It was a reflex, you reasoned, muscle memory long forgotten. You’d had countless sleepovers with Robin, with Eddie; neither meant anything more than friendship and this, whatever it was, didn’t either.

When you made no effort to move, Steve smiled. “You’ve drooled on me before, sunshine,” he reminded you gently, voice soft in the quiet of the room, “get comfortable. I’m not going anywhere.”

The heat of his body pressed to yours, the scent of his cologne, his shampoo, the clean laundry scent of his sweatshirt, combined with the tangled web of questions - doubt and lingering resentment, baked in wariness - muddled your thoughts. The only response you deemed worthy of his declaration was a confused, “Sunshine?”

For a moment, the name lingered in the air, before realization seemed to hit you both. Just as you’d always called him Stevie - a soft nickname, not very original but always uttered with the utmost care, a sweet praise meant only for him - he called you ‘sunshine.’

It started as a joke, a nickname plucked from thin air on a warm summer day after too much time in the sun left you with a bout of heat exhaustion, but had ultimately stuck. Steve swore it was nice, a declaration that you made his days brighter, after it nearly drove you to tears. It became something soft, uttered in private and only shared between the two of you, and Steve blinked as he realized.

Then, without missing a beat, he shrugged. He offered a half smile as he rested his head on the back of the couch, tilted it just enough to meet your eyes. “If you can call me Stevie, I can call you sunshine. Equality, right?”

“Yeah, Stevie. Equality.”

The sleepy bubble of laughter that escaped you was enough to make Steve smile, lazy but pleased, as his eyes slipped shut. Instead of shrugging off his arm, retreating to your side of the couch and drifting off as you knew you should, you leaned in closer. You inhaled the scent of his cologne, his shampoo, his detergent, allowed it to dull the ache in your chest - calm the sudden racing of your heart. And as his breathing evened out, chest rising and falling rhythmically, you allowed yourself the indulgence of pressing your head to his shoulder.

Before you knew it, you’d drifted into the most peaceful sleep you’d gotten in months.

When you woke the next morning, wrapped in Steve’s embrace with your face buried in the crook of his neck - warm and content, limbs stiff with sleep but relaxed; heart calmer than it had been in months - there was no confusion. You knew, instantly, where you were and whose arms surrounded you. Even as you blinked sleep from your eyes, there was no mistaking the scent of him. Your body felt lighter, as if it were floating, and you took a moment to take stock of the moment.

There was a crackling warmth building in your chest, the spark of something you knew was better left buried - feelings you’d swallowed long ago warming the hollow of your chest - and you did your best to think about anything other than the warmth of Steve’s palm pressed to your side, fingers ghosting the sliver of skin just above the band of your shorts.

Thoughts of work, of school, of music, of Eddie, of Robin, of to-do lists, of books left unfinished all distracted you briefly but the air around you shifted the moment you woke and you were powerless to stop it.

A cursory glance at Steve proved that you were not the only one who felt it. His eyes were already on you, gaze sleepy and warm. There seemed to be fewer lines on his face, a lighter purple beneath his eyes, and he was able to hold your gaze just a moment longer as he shot you a soft smile.

“G’morning, sunshine.” His voice, rough with sleep, hit you square in the chest. It was a sound you hadn’t heard in years, one that brought a thousand memories bubbling to the surface, and you tried not to let him see how if affected you. “Your couch used to be way more comfortable.”

He looked warm, hair mussed with sleep and eyes blinking slow against the sunlight filtering in through windows, and you were powerless to stop yourself from reaching out to brush a lock of hair from his eyes. “It’s still comfortable. You’re just getting old, Stevie.”

Steve’s mouth fell open, lips parted in faux outrage, as he scoffed. The hand on your hip moved, fingers pinched lightly at the skin - not enough to hurt, just enough to feel - and you laughed as he rolled his eyes. “I’m not getting old,” he huffed, indignant. He searched your face, eyes glittering with an amused mischief, before he shook his head. “I brought you pizza and your favorite movie, just so you could bully me. Unbelievable.”

“I’m just trying to keep you humble, Harrington.”

“Yeah? Oh, well, someone has to do it,” he agreed, nodding as he lifted a hand to rake through sleep mussed hair. “Might as well be you, huh?” Steve grinned and so did you. You’d never humbled him, never even dreamed of it - you were the one to build him up, to make him smile and remind him of his worth after his parents cut him down - and you wouldn’t begin now.

Still, you nodded, somber-faced and fighting a grin. “Might as well.”

There was something electric that thrummed just beneath the surface, a steady warmth that underlined the conversation, and suddenly, it felt as if you were fourteen again. You were reminded of the mornings you spent together, laughing at nothing before the reality of life set in. It made your chest ache, made your lungs burn, but you desperately wanted to bottle the moment, just in case you never lived it again.

Over the course of the teasing, Steve’s face had drawn closer - mouth close enough to feel the warmth of his breath fanning your skin as he laughed - and you blinked, surprised, when you realized how little distance remained. It took Steve a moment, his smile slowly fading into something a touch more serious, but when he seemed to realize, he looked almost reluctant to release his hold on you.

“Robin will help if I’m late again.” He laughed, though it rang a touch hollow, as he moved, placed a little bit of distance between the pair of you.

“Oh, yeah. Might not want to risk that. She can humble you in, like, a really accurate way.”

Steve grimaced, though laughter was quick to follow, as he stood from the couch. Subconsciously, your eyes fell to his stomach - traced the dark trail of hair that flashed as he lifted his arms above his head to stretch - and felt your face heat as he caught you. Instead of teasing, however, Steve’s own cheeks tinged pink, a soft dusting that warmed his face, as he reached for the plates still sitting on the coffee table.

“She almost made Keith cry once,” he revealed as you stood and followed him to the kitchen, carrying the empty soda cans. "Not on purpose, she just started talking and couldn’t stop. She apologized a thousand times but I still got dragged into a month of Saturday night shifts, just because I laughed.”

“She said something about our history teacher once, I can’t remember what, but I laughed and we both got detention. That’s actually how we became friends,” you revealed, smile soft when Steve turned to you. “It’s, like, one of those word vomit things. She says it before she can really think about it. It’s not mean, just really accurate.”

“Oh, yeah. For someone who claims she can’t read people, Robin’s usually pretty right about most things.”

The observation lingered, was met with your hum of acknowledgement, and the conversation tapered off. Steve spared the clock in the kitchen a glance, sighed as he realized the time, and offered you a hesitant smile. “Thanks,” he began, voice going quiet once more as he glanced at you from beneath his lashes. “For, uh, not kicking me out, I guess. And not making me finish The Evil Dead.”

It was sweet, an endearing quip that made you grin, and you shook your head to keep from flustering as you folded your arms over your chest. “Anytime, Stevie. You know where I live if you ever want to do it again.”

Steve grinned, a little easier than before, as he walked by your side to the front door. “Careful what you wish for, sunshine. I might just take you up on that.” Then, for the first time in a long while, you saw Steve hesitate. He blinked, unsure, before he offered you a tight smile instead of the hug he seemed to be contemplating. “I’ll see you later.”

“Later, Harrington.”

And, just like that, the moment was over. Steve left with a glance thrown over his shoulder - a few glances spared out of his window, eyes stuck on you as you stood in the doorway and waited until he’d made it down your driveway - and you wandered back into the house with an overwhelming flurry of emotions filling the pit of your stomach.

You wondered if this would be a one time thing, a mistake on his part - an effort to clear a guilty conscious, a way to absolve himself of any lingering guilt he felt after uncovering old wounds the week prior - or if it would become a regular effort. You wondered if it would continue being this easy, allowing Steve back into your life when you’d run from him for so long. You wondered if he even wanted back into your life, if he felt the same conflicting emotions you felt as you cleared the reminders of his presence from your home.

However, your worries were soothed as you realized the moment you shared - one you worried would be a fluke, something to be forgotten and never considered again - became the spark that reignited your friendship with Steve.

It started gradually, with you and Steve spending one night a week together. Most weeks, your time together was limited to a few hours - usually on days Dustin and Eddie had Hellfire and Robin had band - and filled with food and laughter as you made use of the nearly untouched kitchen in his home. Others, you found yourselves wrapped up in one another, a tangled mess of limbs and blankets, after another accidental sleepover that got less awkward each time it happened.

Slowly but surely, once a week turned into twice a week. Then, it became three. Soon, and before you could really think too much about it, most of your days included at least a few moments of Steve Harrington’s time. Steve became a fixture in your nights with Robin - not always, you still reveled in your alone time, but more often than not - and, on a few separate occasions, joined you and Eddie for a night of music and horror movies that made his stomach turn.

It was strange, going from avoiding Steve at every turn to seeing him almost daily in what felt like the blink of an eye, but, in a way, it felt like coming home. Steve had, for so long, been such a large part of your life. Welcoming him back into the chaos of your life was easy, almost too easy, but he fit like a missing puzzle piece.

There were moments that you thought too much about it - where you wondered if you were clinging to a past that no longer existed, trying to delude yourself into thinking that nothing had changed. There were moments you poured your heart out to Eddie, wondering if you were doing the wrong thing in allowing Steve back into your life without so much as blinking. There were moments that you struggled, questioning every decision you’d made in relation to Steve Harrington. But, at the end of the day, each moment you spent with him felt right.

Still, there was a weight to your friendship that hadn’t existed as children. As his presence in your life grew greater, more obvious, there was a realization that now - as adults, or as close as you could be - every action, every word, carried a consequence it hadn’t years ago. Each move you made meant something, each step you took mattered, and you were careful to keep yourself in line as you navigated the return of Steve Harrington.

Regardless, things were going well. You were happy, Steve seemed to be happy, and your friendship seemed to pick up exactly where it left off - bitterness soothed by Steve’s continued effort to make you smile, his selflessness when it came to anticipating your desires.

The only question that lingered, that kept you awake at night, was how long you could continue holding yourself together. It was easy to pretend that you weren’t madly in love with Steve in his presence - you’d done it before, spent years madly in love with someone who you were supposed to hate - but everyone else could see right through you as your feelings eclipsed their pre-high school predecessor.

Robin saw it first, cheered so loud her mother had to tell you both to keep it down, and grinned every time Steve so much as nudged your shoulder. Eddie was next, groaned and grimaced and wrinkled his nose, but ultimately proved to be the more helpful of the two as he tried to listen and understand the mess of feelings tumbling around your brain. He picked apart the pieces of your frazzled thoughts, made sense of the feelings you were too afraid to untangle with anyone else, and ultimately kept you tied together as the months ticked by.

But as you stepped into Family Video, greeted by Steve with a hug and a bright smile, you wondered just how long the brittle thread wrapped around your fragile feelings would hold.

As Steve stepped away, drew to his full height and reached for the stack of tapes he’d dropped onto the counter to embrace you, he ignored the look Robin shot you both. He pointedly brushed past her without so much as a glance in her direction, ignored your snicker when she stuck her tongue out at him, and offered you a small smile as he placed a return on the shelf.

“You up for a movie tonight? I’ve heard Top Gun’s good.”

Behind him, Robin’s eyebrows winged up in surprise and it took every ounce of self control for yours not to do the same. Though your friendship had grown, had returned to something resembling your past relationship, there was little time spent together outside the comfort of a private space. Most of your time spent together was at his place, hidden away from your family and abandoned by his, or at the home of a friend - Robin or Eddie, the Wheeler residence, once. Family Video was the only public space you occupied together and that was only deemed safe as it was, almost always, empty.

The decision to remain hidden was not a conscious one - there was never a conversation in which you decided to hide, to avoid going to the movies or to dinner - but you’d been under the assumption that it was something unspoken, understood.

Now, as Steve raised an eyebrow at you, you wondered if the time just hadn’t been right.

“Tom Cruise is in it. Of course it’s going to be good.” Steve made a face, wrinkled his nose in faux disgust and rolled his eyes, but laughed as you reached out to nudge his shoulder. The reply was a touch brittle, a little stilted, but he seemed none the wiser as he waited patiently for your answer. “Can we do tomorrow night? Corroded Coffin is playing at The Hideout tonight. I promised Eddie I’d come ‘cause they’re playing a new song. You can come with, if you want. Though, I’m not sure how much fun you’ll have. They play metal covers and drink shitty beer with grumpy old dudes.”

Steve grimaced again, this one genuine, and shook his head. “Yeah, I think I’ll pass, but thanks.” He spared you a sideways glance, eyes roving the black jeans and Hellfire shirt you wore, before returning his attention to the shelf in front of him. “I get off at five tomorrow. Maybe we can make it to the six o’clock showing?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

When Robin retreated, muttering something about needing to clean shelves or stack boxes, Steve spared you a glance from the corner of his eye. His fingers tapped against the shelf - something of a nervous tic - as he schooled his features into a look of nonchalance that you saw through immediately.

There was something bothering him, a flicker of something sad - something hurt - but he hid it well as he shelved another return. “You should go for it.” When you raised a brow, unsure of what he meant, he continued, “Munson. You should go for it. You guys would be a good couple.” The declaration was quiet, as if he didn’t want to breathe it aloud, and your eyes widened.

“Eddie?” You nearly choked on your laughter as you shook your head, unable to help yourself, even as the tips of Steve’s ears tinted pink.

Plenty of rumors followed you in high school but that - the whisper that you were dating Eddie, that you were at least sleeping together - was the most pervasive. There’d never been anything more than friendship between you and you shook your head as you spared Steve an incredulous glance. “He’s not really my type.”

At this, Steve seemed to perk up, if only momentarily. A look of intrigue flashed so quick that you were almost certain you’d imagined it as he suddenly stared at the shelf as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. Steve hadn’t displayed any interested in your love life, left that as the one topic untouched between the two of you, and you wondered where the change of heart had come from as you studied him.

“You trying to play matchmaker, Stevie? I can give you a list of what I like, might make it easier for you.”

The list would be short - compiled of one name, underlined for emphasis - and you had no plans to share it with him. Steve was the one who got away, always would be, and you had no interest in allowing him into your love life. And, as you anticipated, he scoffed.

Steve’s huff was wholly unconvincing, lacked the emphasis needed to convince you his advice stemmed from a totally selfless place, and you frowned as he shook his head. “I just want you to be happy,” he declared, voice going soft as he traced the spine of a tape. “You’re spending all your time with me, can’t be good for you,” he teased, though it sounded half-hearted, a self-deprecating joke that made you sigh.

You remained uncertain of where the sudden interest was coming from, what had brought about this sudden doubt, but before you could dig deeper, you saw Eddie’s van pull into the parking lot.

For the best, you decided to leave well enough alone and ask after the movie, in the safety of Steve’s car. With a roll of your eyes, you squeezed Steve’s shoulder. “You make me happy, Stevie. Spending time with you is good for me and I’m looking forward to doing it again tomorrow night. You picking me up?” Steve nodded, half-dazed by your response, and you laughed as you shook your head. “Perfect. See you tomorrow night, Harrington.”

As you rushed out of the store, eager to supply Eddie with the latest - and to hear his latest opinion; so far, he had alternated on his stance, oscillating wildly between encouragement and near begging for you to forget Steve Harrington - you swore you could hear Robin loudly ask, “So, are we going to talk about the ginormous elephant in the room or are we just going to pretend that you’re not totally in love with her?”

Followed instantly by a deadpan, “Shut up, Robin.”

Eddie seemed less enthusiastic - certain you were imagining the entire exchange, maybe hearing what you wanted instead of what was actually said - but nodded anyway, encouraging, this time. And as he drove to pick up the rest of Corroded Coffin, Black Sabbath blaring and cigarette smoke filling the interior of his van, you wondered.

Steve had sworn Robin was a good judge of character, could read people significantly better than she let on. Was this one of those cases - had she figured out something you hadn’t - or was this a case of her not being able to differentiate between platonic and romantic love? It had happened, she’d also believed you and Eddie to be hiding a romantic relationship but the interaction played on a loop as you sat amongst the crowd of drunks filling The Hideout.

He seemed anxious, worried, a little clipped when asking about Eddie - jealous, almost, if you were to believe the spark of hope ignited in your chest - but there was always the chance that it had nothing to do with romantic love. Steve, like you, now had few friends. You were the only one his age, the only one who’d known him longer than a handful of years, and he likely wanted to keep you in his life. Eddie was destined to leave Hawkins the moment he could; maybe Steve was worried you’d follow.

The time that you spent together was fleeting; there was a chance Steve worried a romantic relationship would impede your few moments of bliss. He might’ve been worried that you falling in love would destroy your desire to remain in his life, no longer interested in a friend like him when someone like Eddie existed.

Whatever the case, the interaction with Steve played on a loop until his car pulled into your driveway the next afternoon. He’d clearly been home, showered - removed the stale scent of Family Video, tapes and old popcorn - and smiled as you bounded across the driveway to his car before he could completely stop.

As you climbed into the passenger seat of his car, the sound of Metallica’s The Thing That Should Not Be made you pause. Steve noticed, flushed a brilliant pink, but said nothing as he pulled out of your driveway and began the journey to the theater.

When he remained quiet, you asked, “Stevie, are you listening to Metallica?”

Steve had been educated - played tape after tape by you and Eddie, schooled in the art of heavy metal as you smoked in the metalhead’s bedroom - but he hadn’t shown much of an interest in any of the bands you loved. He didn’t openly scoff, not anymore, but metal wasn’t exactly the genre of music Steve Harrington listened to on repeat.

To say that it was a surprise would be an understatement.

Still, he shrugged. “Eddie let me borrow the tape,” he admitted, unable to look at you. “You kept going on about it, figured I should give it a listen.” He made no effort to stop you from turning up the volume and, when you glanced at him expectantly, he rolled his eyes. “It’s not Hall and Oates, but it’ll do.”

You laughed, a bright sound that filled the car, and Steve grinned - glad to have made you smile. He made a few observations about the tape - mostly that he couldn’t really hear a difference in the songs, something that you knew he’d struggled with in your metal education sessions - and you assured him that it was alright if he truly didn’t like it. Regardless, he kept the tape playing in the background and you swore he smiled each time you bobbed your head and hummed along to the songs you were already so familiar with.

Despite how normal the night seemed - Steve rambling about work, mutter about Robin and the kids - there was something slightly off. It could’ve been your imagination, the effort you put into overthinking Steve’s every motivation for waltzing back into your life, but everything felt muted.

Steve’s energy as he bought popcorn and tickets - waved you off, asserted that you could get him back next time, though you both knew he wouldn’t allow it - was low and he remained uncharacteristically quiet as he guided you through the lobby to the theater. It was almost as if he were nervous, watching his hands as he pressed one to the small of your back, weighing his words as he leaned over to whisper thoughts about the trailers.

There were moments of pure Steve, bright energy where he pondered what his call sign would be - easily declared yours to be sunshine, no need changing it now - and shoveled popcorn into his mouth. But you could tell his attention wasn’t entirely on the film.

For you, it was difficult to focus on anything other than his presence - the scent of his hair products, the warmth of his body pressed to yours, the spice of his cologne, the soft brush of his short against your skin - and the questions that had echoed since leaving Family Video the day before.

The movie passed in a blur - a mess of pilot jargon you didn’t understand, a handful of scenes that made you roll your eyes - but Steve seemed to enjoy himself. He laughed, grinned a little in places, and frowned at all the right scenes. To you, however, the only thing worth note was the way he remained glued to your side, arm slung over your shoulders and knee pressed to yours.

And as you left the theater, though his chatter was a little more scattered than normal - less focused, a little more erratic, a little louder - Steve dominated the conversation and seemed not to notice your silence. He debated his call sign, shot out ideas before immediately scrapping them, and tapped the wheel as he drove along quiet roads back to your home.

Instead of joining, you sat quietly and wondered how badly you would destroy the fragile new bond of your relationship if you simply asked Steve what the hell you were doing together.

When Steve pulled into the driveway of your home, placed the car in park and turned down the radio, he shifted to face you. Warm brown eyes searched your face, desperate for an answer to a question he had yet to ask and you knew that now was the time you’d been waiting for. “You’ve been quiet,” he pointed out, eyebrows pinched. “What’s on your mind?”

The thought of playing coy, of beating around the bush and pretending that you had no idea what he was referring to, was tempting. Asking the question that had been plaguing you for weeks - months, even - had the potential to ruin whatever delicate thing you’d been building.

At the same time, there was no point in maintaining a relationship that made you afraid to speak. Steve was a friend - a good one, at that, having proven himself in the short time you’d been reacquainted - and he deserved an honest answer.

“I guess I’ve just been wondering why.” Steve tilted his head, searching for the missing context, and you sighed as you twisted one of the silver rings adorning your fingers. “I’m glad that we’re… us again. I’m glad that we’re trying to go back to what we had. I just… It’s been so long. I can’t help but wonder, why now.”

Steve sighed, long suffering and far too serious for someone who had less than an hour earlier wondered what his call sign might be, as he raked a hand through his hair. “I tried,” Steve admitted, voice quiet as he turned to face you. “Not hard enough, but I tried. After… After I got my ass kicked, things kind of fell into perspective. I realized what mattered, what didn’t. You always mattered to me, sunshine. Even when I had my head up my ass. I was… disappointed in myself, I think. For treating you the way I did. And I guess I was selfish, hoping enough time had passed that it would be easier for you to forgive me now. I never forgot about you, about us.”

The explanation was more than you’d imagined it would be, something heavier than you expected, and you swallowed the emotion bubbling in the back of your throat as Steve offered you a half smile.

“Even when I didn’t want to understand, I did. I knew what you were doing, why you were doing it. If I hadn’t been so pissed at my parents, I probably would’ve been right there with you,” you admitted, voice melding with the quiet sound of Metallica. “I never forgot about you, either. And I think I would’ve accepted the apology a long time ago.” You paused for a moment, desperate to give yourself a little room to breathe, before you added, “I’m kind of glad you waited, though. Don’t think Hellfire would’ve let me back in if I’d been hanging out with Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington.”

It was a necessary moment of levity, a laugh you both needed, and Steve shook his head fondly as he met your eyes. “I think I’ve got Eddie’s approval now,” he teased, smiling softly as he reached for your hand. His fingers brushed the metal of one of your rings - one that had replaced his tiny plastic ring years ago - as he lifted his head to meet your eyes. “He can see right through people. Realized how I felt before I did, I think.”

Your breath caught in your throat, slightly confused and anxious as to how Steve would answer your question. Your hand shook in his grasp, fingers trembling even as he brushed soothing circles over your heated skin, and he smiled encouragingly as he waited for your response. “And how do you feel?”

Steve’s smile faltered slightly, just enough to make you wrap your fingers around his in an encouraging squeeze, as he laughed. “I feel like an idiot. I’ve wasted so much time, searching for someone to love me for me, when you’ve been there all along. I… I had a crush on you, when we were kids,” he admitted, eyes meeting yours - warm brown glittering in the dim light from your porch. “I used to tell my mom that I was going to marry you someday. You were my first love and I don’t think my feelings have changed.” Time seemed to crawl to a stop, the universe seemed to cease existing, as Steve lifted a hand to your cheek. Soft fingers brushed your skin as he whispered, “I think I’m still in love with you.”

The hammering of your heart echoed loudly in your ears, beat wildly against your ribcage and threatened to shatter the little pieces holding you in place. It was difficult to focus on Steve’s confession, difficult to make sense of it, and you wondered if this was all some sort of dream.

As his fingers tangled with yours, warm hand encompassing your trembling fingers, you knew that it was real. He was patient, waited with a ghost of a smile for you to speak, and you foundered to find something adequate to say.

“Steve.”

This time, as the words stuck in your throat - so close to breaking free, so easy to say, admit just as he’d admitted his own love - Steve nodded, smile bright. “I know,” he assured you, voice soft as his hand lifted to your cheek. “I know, sunshine.”

Steve leaned forward, crossed the gap between your seats, and waited patiently for you to make the final decision. It was up to you - this whole process had been up to you, on your terms, and you realized that Steve was handing over control without a moment of hesitation. Whatever happened, he wanted it to be on your terms, and you were grateful for that as you closed the distance and pressed your mouth to his.

Steve’s fingers pressed into the apple of your cheek, splayed across your jawline and held you tight - as if he were afraid you might disappear if he let go. When you broke apart to breathe, he pressed his forehead to yours and grinned.

“I love you, sunshine. I know it hasn’t always seemed that way but I promise, you’ll never have to question it again.”

The declaration was strong, certain, and you believed wholeheartedly that Steve was telling the truth. Regardless of how things had changed, of how your lives had drifted only to return to each others’ orbit, Steve’s promise meant something.

This time, when Steve swore that he wouldn’t let go - that you would never question his love again - you believed him.

____________________________________________________________

Author’s Note: I’m so sorry. This got so out of hand. I just had a lot of Steve thoughts. Back to your regularly scheduled Eddie now, though.

Taglist: @x-avantgarde-x, @thisisparadisemylove, @eddiesprincess, @slvdsjjk, @munsonlover, @tasmbestspdrman, @urofficial-cyberslut, @jxngwhore, @hopelesslylosttheway, @meaganjm, @lazuli-leenabride, @deiondraaa, @piscesmesss, @glowyskiess, @kiszkathecook, @missryerye, @solarrexplosion, @ofherscarlettwitchways, @lovedandleft-haunted, @trappedinlimbo15, @sweetiekitten, @bookfrog242, @gwendolynmary, @sage-bun, @zealouslibrariesparadiselight, @castiels-lilass, @tojis-little-brat, @emmah787, @theworldsendxx, @asuperconfusedgirl, @flores-and-sunshine, @passi0np1t, @laurathefahrradsattel, @hellf1reclub, @slut4yourmom, @niko-04, @hannirose-loves-you, @mrs-eddie-munson, @screambabe, @vllowe, @ryswritingrecord, @cheriebondy, @ryswritingrecord, @thewitchofthewilds140, @bootlegmothman420, @maruushkka, @honeymoonpython, @keenesbeans, @jess-bonn, @sammysinger04, @khaoticken21, @denkis-slut, @spiderman-berries, @lotus-es, @amortiff, @stardust-galaxies, @ure-a-sunflower, @1-800-ch3rry, @ladybeewritethings, @ynbutbetter, @hunnybunimdun, @breathinfive, @s-u-t, @s4ntacarlal0stk1d, @rae-iin, @pennamesgame, @stefans-wife, @voldieshorts, @frankie-mercury, @bbymochi1, @serendiipty

If you’re not tagged, it’s because Tumblr wouldn’t let me!

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things imagine #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #v's fics

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atimeofyourlife · 4 months

Text

The day before Christmas, a day to forget

written for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt: birthday | rated: t | wc 970 | cw: reference to neglectful parenting | tags: steve harrington has bad parents, surprise party Steve never got to celebrate his birthday, on account of it being Christmas Eve. He doesn't even tell people when it is. Eddie is determined to find out his birthday and make it a good one.

Birthdays had never really meant much to Steve. It was something that everyone else had, but not him. Well, he did have a birthday, but he never got to celebrate it. Christmas Eve. His family telling him that it was too close to Christmas, that he didn't need two days of presents back-to-back. If he was lucky, he might get a card or a small gift from other relatives, his grandparents or an aunt, but nothing much.

It felt worse once he was at school, making friends. Seeing everyone getting a day to celebrate them, getting presents and cake and everyone making a fuss of them. It made him feel left out and resentful of his parents. He asked again why he never got to celebrate his birthday, again getting told that it was too close to Christmas. And getting told not to be greedy.

In high school, Tommy and Carol decided to celebrate his 'half-birthday' in June. But that was more of an excuse to throw a huge house and pool party in the middle of summer. A chance to get drunk, to do anything they could without getting in too much trouble about it. No one ever remembered that it was supposed to be about Steve's birthday.

So, by the time he was sixteen, he stopped bothering. If anyone asked, he didn't celebrate his birthday. He wouldn't even tell people when his birthday was. For his seventeenth birthday, he got to spend the day with Nancy and her family. He didn't tell her what the day was, but at least he wasn't alone for once. For his eighteenth, he was alone again. Telling the kids wasn't even on the cards. He knew that Hopper was aware of it from when he'd seen his license in the past, but he didn't bring it up.

His nineteenth birthday, he spent it working with Robin. He hadn't told her, but it was great getting to spend the day with his best friend in the world. He was even going home with her and spending the night, so they could be together the next day. Her parents knew he didn't have a great relationship with his family, so they invited him to spend Christmas with them.

Twenty was another year of not celebrating his birthday. But they barely celebrated Christmas. Too focused on trying to defeat Vecna to do anything special. They took the just long enough to have a meal together, the same as they did on anyone's birthdays. It just wasn't possible to do anything more.

Twenty-one was the year it changed. Mid-September had Eddie asking him about his birthday.

"I asked the kids, but they said you don't celebrate. Robin and Nancy said the same thing. Come on, Stevie, you can tell me." Eddie tried to bug it out of him.

"Eddie. I don't celebrate. Nothing you say is going to change that. I don't have good experiences with my birthday, so I don't like to think about it. I won't be doing anything for it, so just leave it." Steve replied.

December came around, and no one else mentioned anything about it. No one brought it up at all. Steve was thankful for that, saving him from awkward and difficult conversations. Christmas Eve, his birthday, came around and it was quiet and peaceful. There were plans for the evening, for everyone to have their Christmas get together, before them having the next day with their families. Steve drove himself over after work, as he was the only one on shift. It was being held at Joyce and Hopper's place, and Steve was quite looking forward to it. When he got there, he noticed that most of the painstakingly hung lights on the outside of the house were off, which felt unusual, but he tried not to think too much about it. He knocked on the door and waited.

"Steve, hi. Come on in, we're all down in the basement." Joyce said as she opened the door.

"Thanks Mrs Byers." Steve replied, hanging up his coat before heading down the stairs to the basement. The lights were dimmed and there were no Christmas decorations around.

"Happy Birthday, Steve." Everyone shouted, and Steve stepped back, unsure of what to make of it. He'd never seen anything like it before, especially not for him.

"What? Why? How?" He was almost speechless, it all so overwhelming.

"We all knew you never talk about your birthday, and figured that there must be a reason why. We found out when it was, so we figured it must have been something to do with being close to Christmas." Eddie explained.

"I. I don't."

"Steve, we all love you, we want to do this for you. Eddie was the one that put us all up to this, to find out your birthday and have a reason to celebrate it. You do so much for everyone else's birthdays, you deserve the same amount of care and love." Robin added, coming over to give him a hug. "If you really hate your birthday that much, we can forget this, and go upstairs and have the Christmas party like we told you."

"It's. My parents told me that it's too close to Christmas, that I don't need two days of presents so close. That I would be greedy if I expected people to celebrate my birthday in the middle of the Christmas season." Steve said quietly.

"That's bullshit. You deserve a birthday as much as everyone else does. It's not your fault when you were born. Now, come on. We've all got presents for you, and there's cake. Mrs Henderson made your favorite black forest cake." Eddie replied.

Steve smiled, feeling the love and warmth from everyone around him. Maybe his birthday was something he could celebrate, after all.

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie #steve x eddie #robin buckley #platonic stobin #steddieholidaydrabbles #steve harrington has bad parents #atimeofyourwrites

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stuffeddeer · 4 months

Note

y!dazai buying plushies and clothes for you :) but since he’s a massive douchebag he ended making you cry about it (probably didn’t feel bad either bleh)

he feels like he need to coddle you every single minute of the day or else he’ll go batshit crazy

anon i thought this said MAKING clothes for u i was about to cheer imagine dazai with his precise and nimble fingers hand sewing clothing for himself during the two years he spent underground, patching holes in his jacket and such ouughhh.. his darling gifts him a sewing machine after seeing his dodgy sewing set up utilizing a single bent needle and a lot of patience that he doesn’t normally have… ARE YOU ALL SEEING THIS TOO…… tbh tho he’d prick himself one (1) time with the needle and never pick one up again he’s such a baby or he’d swallow one

Kidnapper!Dazai who drones on and on about how hard he works to provide for the two of you, the least you can do is cuddle the plushies he got you if not him. That’s money that could have gone towards the betterment of your forcibly shared apartment, rather than some childish plushies just to keep you placated. Stop crying, that’s why he got them for you, remember?

wait hold on

He tries and be all sweet and doting, dropping the plush on top of some cozy pajamas he’d purchased for you that day. With a delusional smile he’d pull you into a hug, tugging at the hem of your pants claiming he wants a fashion show. At least the pajamas are modest — long pant legs and sleeves that at least cover your shoulders. The worst offender has a low neckline, but he’s sure you’ll appreciate that he didn’t go for anything too crazy. You’ll gently push him away, picking up the stuffed plush from the thick paper bags instead: It looks just like the one you had as a child. Dazai knows this, of course, like he knows everything else about you. He sits back with a smug grin, watching as you gently push it from one hand to the other.

The difference between this plush and the one sitting in storage at your parents’ home is the life brought into it: fur that is no longer matted from love and eyes that aren’t scuffed and scraped from kicking it off your bed at night… Wow, you missed those days. You missed your mom. A frown crosses your face as you turn towards your shared bedroom, deciding to spend sometime on your own. Before you can enact these plans, however, Dazai plucks the stuffie from your gentle grip, holding him high above your head. Your eyes widen and your face immediately drops. Hadn’t he already taken so much from you? Tears begin falling before you can even register it, too caught up in the sudden fear that you’d lose another part of yourself. Your parents, your friends, your life before this: it was all imprinted onto that stupid stuffed toy Dazai had gotten as an afterthought.

Yet, he continued to dangle it over your head. “You’ll get this little fella back when you answer me. Don’t you wanna make me as happy as I’ve made you?”

Happy? You couldn’t help but feel sick. With how long you’ve been in Dazai’s home, you knew expressing that wouldn’t get you the plushie back. The sleeve of your current outfit helps to wipe the tears off of your cheeks. “Fa-fashion show, right? Okay, okay,” you mutter while dropping to your knees, digging through the bag of clothing for the first set.

This is not your prompt but Dazai who bought a cam stuffie. Unbeknownst to you, the eye of the cute little teddy your dear friend gifted you fed video straight to his laptop at all hours of the day. He spends his nights watching you sleep peacefully; the rise and fall of your chest soothing him and giving him something to focus on other than the negative thoughts on his mind. Something about the way you’d pat the little bear on the head every morning had him swooning, as though you were doing the action to him. Weirdly enough, you always seemed to turn the little teddy away before changing… Oh well — Dazai would have plenty of time to see everything he wants to once you’re finally together: something he envisions happening soon.

this is not proofread bc i have soo much due rn... classes are kicking my ass!!! hope you like it anon :)

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uluvjay · 11 months

Note

Trevor blurb using the last prompt from the first prompt list?

“this sounds like you’re flirting with me.” “...i have been trying to do that for three years now.”

Trevor zegras x Hughes! Sister

Warnings?; drinking, drunk people, fluff?, a kiss, cursing

Reader is jacks twin!

—

It was another summer night spent around the bonfire at your twin and older brothers lake house with a group of close friends, old teammates, and new teammates.

Everyone was roasting s’mores and taking sips of their drinks as there were multiple conversations going. You were currently in a very serious conversation with Brady and Quinn about the best Koolaid flavor.

“Ew Brady, you did not just say grape is the best!” You exclaimed at the captain.

“I did because it is” he shrugged

“Quinn! Get your friend” you said adding a fake gag at the end.

He just laughed at you two bickering over something as stupid as a koolaid flavor.

You were about to go into a deep dive on why no other flavor could top blue when Trevor calling your name got your attention.

“Y/n! Can you help me with my s’more? This doesn’t taste as good as they do when you make them” he asked.

“Of course” you said getting out of your chair and heading over to him.

You took a seat on his lap, which to any normal person would be weird considering you two weren’t dating but the group were all used to it.

You two settled into a easy conversation as you made him s’more after s’more. “I swear your a goddess at making these” he told you as he swallowed his last bite of his fourth s’more.

“But” he started before taking a drink of his beer, “then again everything you do is perfect so” he trailed off shrugging his shoulders and leaning his head on your shoulder.

“Sounds like your flirting with me there Zegras” you jokingly let out, but he went silent besides the slight hitch of his breath you heard.

“I…have been trying to do that for three years now” he told you with an awkward laugh.

“What?” You asked slightly turning on him but you were acting faster then you could think because next thing you knew, you were pulling him up and announcing to everyone you two were going to get more drinks.

As the two of you got into the kitchen you turned to look at him but his eyes were everywhere besides you.

“Trevor, were you being serious out there? You’ve been trying to flirt with me for three years?” You asked him.

“I..yeah, and I know it’s probably weird since we’re so close but I don’t know, your just you and ever since three summers ago I’ve seen you as more then my best friend” he said finally making eye contact with you.

“Can I ask when you noticed you felt that way?” You asked him.

“It’s kinda embarrassing” he mumbled , “plus you probably don’t even feel the same way”

“But I do Z, I was just scared of getting rejected. I hear my brother talk about all the hot girls your getting in Anaheim and it made me feel like I didn’t have a chance so I didn’t ever bring it up” you admitted looking down at the floor.

“What!? Since when?” He asked surprised.

“I asked you first”

“Fine, it was back in that July when you were going on that date with that prick Adam and he stood you up, I realized when I was helping you pick out your outfit that I didn’t want you going out with anybody, I wanted it to be me but your my best friends twin sister” he admitted to you, a light blush coating his cheeks.

“It was the same summer for me, when you brought that girl Skyler here and she was all over you, it really pissed me off and I didn’t understand why but then that night I realized I had feelings for you” you told him looking up at him.

He smiled at you before cupping your face and running his thumb over your cheek, “Can I kiss you?” He asked

“Please do” you replied with a small laugh.

He placed his lips on yours, it was slow and sweet but only lasted a moment as you heard your twin and older brother both yell.

“WHAT THE FUCK?” Came from Quinn while

“Cole! Pay up bitch, I told you they were in here macking on each other!” Came from Jack

#trevor zegras imagine #trevor zegras #trevor zegras fluff #trevor zegras x reader #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #luke hughes #hockey imagine #quinn hughes #quinn hughes x reader #brady tkachuk #nhl #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #uluvejay request week

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thebigbiwolf · 5 months

Text

Mine, if Only for the Night

Summary:

Based on a prompt given to me by a wonderful anon: Astarion/reader fic where he finds out she's never had a lover 'finish the job' so she doesn't see what all the fuss is about, and he decides to use his skills to ruin her for anyone else and show her what she's been missing out on?

Fic Tags: Porn with feelings, Multiple Orgasms, Overstim, Astarion POV, LOTS of Pining, Vaginal sex of all kinds (jesus), and Reader's First Orgasm lol

Fic Warnings: Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI), language

Word Count: 5.1k~

Read on AO3: Here

A/N: I loved this prompt. No notes. This is also maybe a bit of a fix-it fic where Astarion does not dissociate during your first time in the woods because my baby deserves to have a good time.

Thank you Lari @imaginarydromedary for being the best beta ever.

Astarion leans his shoulder against a tree, surveying the clearing.

While the surroundings were still a tad rugged for his tastes, he’d taken it upon himself to arrange a few furs and pillows here and there until it felt acceptably comfortable.

He peels off his nightshirt, discarding it into the plush grass as he works his jaw, wondering where you might be.

You should have arrived by now. More than an hour had passed since the distant, jovial music and chatter had faded into nothing, and the tieflings have long since said their goodbyes. The night envelopes him in silence, broken only by the distant murmur of a nearby stream and the usual cricket song.

He’s starting to wonder if perhaps he had misread this entire situation. Maybe he pushed too far - made some sort of error in his assessment of you.

Or maybe you didn't desire him at all.

The idea gnaws at him - unsettles him more than he’d ever care to admit.

An uncomfortable weight in his chest.

He brushes the feeling aside, scoffing to himself.

As if you or anyone else would deny themselves a chance to indulge in his body, especially when offered an immediate out. No unnecessary promises. Not even a cuddle.

As if.

And yet, he can’t seem to shake this uncomfortable doubt.

Step by step, he paces, turning your interaction with him at the party over in his head until he’s exhausted every word - until the grass flattens beneath the soles of his feet.

How the topic of your disappointing sexual history came up could perhaps be attributed to your shared bottle of wine. He’d nearly choked on the damned drink when you explained to him, in detail, about every encounter, every night you spent satisfying a man’s ego rather than having your needs met, and how you no longer believed there was any real point to sex.

He could hardly believe his beautifully pointed ears.

And while he would normally revel in the opportunity to embarrass someone over being the tragic victim of terrible sex, your case is… different.

You are different.

You stood by his side, even through the disastrous revelation of his condition. More than that, you allowed him to drink from you - a favor he won’t soon forget.

Part of you even enjoyed it.

He felt it the moment he put his mouth on you, the very second his fangs breached the delicate skin of your neck. He felt it all: the subtle hitch in your breath, your little twitches of excitement.

And yet, you asked nothing more of him.

So, what is a friend to do?

It took some insistence - a bit of reassurance that no , offering to bed you properly was not brought about by a sick sense of obligation, nor was it a way to repay you for your kind deeds - but honestly, for the life of him, he doesn’t understand why this feels so damn important - why there's this incessant urge to bring you the release he knows you so desperately need.

Perhaps it's the promise of a challenge - one that pokes at his male pride like a petulant child. It goads him, raising an egotistical brow his way, the knowledge that unlike all the other men you’ve wasted your time with, Astarion could get you off with ease.

He’d pull out all the stops, use every trick in his little black book to reduce you to a quivering, obedient mess. He’d take his time with you - have you wet and pliant, begging beneath his fingers before giving you everything those pretty little lips could ever ask for.

He would ruin you, if you’d allow it.

All you had to do was give him one night. No strings attached.

And yet, here you are, keeping him waiting.

Five, then ten, then 20 minutes pass, and only when he’s about to pack his things - when his growing impatience threatens to twist into a feeling dangerously close to disappointment - does he hear movement behind him.

The rustle of leaves, a snapping twig.

Astarion turns to find you grappling with a particularly thorny bush - your hair a mess, adorned with small sticks. With a frustrated huff, you kick at the plant, muttering under your breath.

You haven’t noticed him yet, too busy fighting to free your foot - and it suddenly occurs to him that your inferior human eyes had to navigate these woods in the dark.

That little detail must have evaded him when he made his proposition, but realizing it now, knowing that you weren't simply wasting the night away, wrestling with the decision of whether to leave him waiting and wanting… sets him at ease.

“You should have been a druid.” he teases.

You freeze, head perking up and swiveling towards the sound of his voice.

“I don’t see why the lot of them insist on camping out in the wilderness,” you huff, “There’s a perfectly fine grove less than a mile from here.”

You finish prying your boot out from the thicket, nearly toppling over in the process. He almost considers helping you, but watching you struggle like a newborn dear is just too amusing to pass up. He’ll make it up to you soon enough.

Making your way toward the clearing, your eyes gradually adjust to the moonlight. They find his gaze, then wander over the pale expanse of his chest, before quickly darting away to focus on the ensemble of blankets.

“Oh. This is… nice.” You remark, gesturing towards the furs, and at first, Astarion assumes you’re mocking him - turning a nose up at his thoughtful efforts.

But when he turns toward you, preparing to make a less-than-savory comment about gratitude, he is instead met with a genuinely surprised, and somewhat irritating, smile.

Just what sort of lovers have you settled for, thinking that this constitutes ‘nice’?

“And you thought I was going to, what,” he scoffs, “Drag you into the cold woods and have my way with you against a tree?”

Your face flames at the suggestion, burning bright red at his boldness, but you don’t deny it.

In fact, his keen ears pick up on the subtle flutter of your heartbeat as soon as the words leave his lips.

That’s all the confirmation he needs.

“Ah,” he purrs, “I see.”

With that, Astarion closes the distance between you, toned arms sliding beneath the firmness of your thighs to lift you with ease. A surprised squeak leaves your mouth as your ankles instinctively lock around his waist.

He takes a few steps forward until the dull edges of bark press into your shoulders.

“Is this what you want?” He punctuates his words with the firm press of his clothed cock against your core, already hardening with interest. It’s almost maddening - how responsive you are, already squirming in his arms when he’s hardly touched you.

His grip tightens on your rear, nails digging into your soft skin.

“Answer me, dear,” he growls, “I want to hear you say it.”

It’s a lie, of sorts. He doesn’t want to hear it - he needs to. Needs you to beg for him, as ridiculous as it feels.

He’s had more lovers than he could count, heard their sweet cries like a symphony of praise, but they fell on deaf, pointed ears compared to this - to your ragged breaths.

“ Say it .”

“ Please , Astarion. I want this -”

As soon as the words leave you, his lips are on yours, hungry and demanding. He sets you down, one hand leaving your thighs to grab at your jaw and tilting it just so - steering your face into a more accessible angle, the tip of his nose finding its place against your flushed cheek.

His other hand snakes its way to the back of your head, twining the soft strands of hair between his fingers, tightening them in his fist and pulling .

The sudden sting elicits a whine, stolen from your parted lips, and he takes the opportunity to run his tongue along the seam, dipping into the inviting heat of your mouth. Notes of cheap, flat wine still linger on your tongue, but he quickly finds he doesn’t mind the taste - barely notices it at all when you're opening up for him so eagerly.

He long expected himself to turn off - to hide behind his practiced movements, allowing his body to do the work for him - to wake up sometime after you’d found your pleasure in him.

But here he remains - his script thrown to the wind while your little sounds of approval hang in the air between you, driving him with a hunger that is wholly unfamiliar.

He wants this, but that realization will come later, when he’s gathering his clothes with the heat of the morning sun at his back, wondering why the idea of leaving you there in the plush grass settles like lead in his stomach.

It’ll wait for him there, hidden behind layers of denial and fear, then follow like a hound biting at his heels for months on end until he makes peace with it - until he chokes on his own tears in the safety of your arms where you’ll welcome him, along with all of his complications.

But for now, he kisses a line down your shoulder, feeling more alive and present with every swipe of his tongue against your collar bone. You sigh, and he pays special attention to the thin skin there, warm and jumping in time with your pulse.

Astarion's deft fingers skillfully unhook the buttons of your shirt with practiced ease. He tears away the offending fabric, and a low growl burns its way out his throat as the last two buttons pop off, landing somewhere in the dirt beside him. You’ll have something to say about that later, he’s sure.

When the morning comes, he’ll notice you searching for them and offer to sew in new ones - more suitable ones, in whichever color you’d prefer. When he hands the shirt back to you just a few hours later, now embroidered and finer than even before his careless blunder, your impressed smile will awaken a fondness in him that will linger naggingly in the corners of his mind for the foreseeable future.

He’ll ruminate on that later, when his mouth isn’t descending on your breasts, and his hands aren’t palming at your newly exposed skin.

Falling to his knees, he works at the laces of your trousers. Then, when the troublesome strings are finally undone, his eyes meet yours, holding your gaze as he peels the cloth slowly down the length of your thighs. He takes his time with it, dragging the fabric over your knees and trailing the blunt edge of his nails back up to the curve of your hips, watching intently as the skin prickles beneath his touch.

You wiggle, restless and flushed bright red from your neck to your ears, suddenly avoiding his stare.

It’s a strange, uncharacteristic shyness—until he puts two and two together when he runs his finger over the white lace of your smalls and finds them positively soaked .

“Is this all for me?” he teases, a smug smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

His thumb presses knowingly into the wet fabric, petting the skin beneath with practiced pressure.

You don’t answer - you can’t - with your head thrown back and eyes squeezed shut, too busy rocking mindlessly into his touch.

Well, that certainly won’t do.

A hard slap lands on the inside of your thigh, jolting you to attention. The responding hitch in your breath goes straight to his cock.

“I asked you a question, darling. Is this all for me?”

“I - agh , yes.”

“ Very good,” he purrs, satisfied, “Now, spread these for me.”

You obey, parting your legs and giving him more space to work with. He tugs at your pants, quickly ridding you of them, then goes back to work kneading lazy, unhurried circles into the thin, sticky, wet fabric. It clings to your skin so perfectly, outlining your form for him as if you were wearing nothing at all.

You're panting above him now - small, rushed breaths suspended in the charged air. The muscles of your thighs twitch with each pass of his thumb over your clit.

And again, you’re not looking at him - head turned to the side and whispering curses quietly to yourself.

Another slap to your thigh, then - the same one, because he’s cruel - now marked with the vivid red imprint of his hand.

“Eyes on me,” he commands.

When your eyes meet his again, they’re hooded and glossy, filled with a familiar haze.

Lust .

He’s got you now.

Pulling the now thoroughly ruined garment to the side, Astarion rewards you by dragging a finger through your folds, watching your arousal drip down his wrist. It practically drools out of you, coating the rest of his digits, slickening his palm as he presses one into your entrance.

Your hands instinctively fly to his hair, settling atop the tousled, white strands, and your body takes him in greedily .

Astarion smiles to himself.

This feels… good - being so in control, pulling little pleasured sounds from your lips. His pride swells as he adds another finger. You buckle forward, letting out a strangled groan, losing yourself to the feeling of being stretched - being prepped for him and every inch of cock he has to give you, sitting impatiently hard and neglected in his trousers.

He pumps in and out of you, slowly at first, but it only takes a few short moments before your impatient squirming turns into a mindless, needy grind. Each small thrust forward has your body taking him deeper, clenching him tighter until he can feel you throbbing around his fingers.

There’s a level of self indulgence here that he would deny if questioned - perhaps even under oath - but the wholly unnecessary way he pauses to tear the fabric of your smallclothes would quickly betray him.

Your squeak of surprise is all he hears before the press of your thighs deafens him - and if he was naive enough to believe that your blood was the most enticing thing he’s tasted in the last two centuries, it pales in comparison to the mess you’ve made for him.

An anguished hum escapes him as he drags his tongue through your folds - so hoarse and strained with disbelief, it almost sounds more animal than man.

He drinks you in, letting up for only as long as it takes to press tender, soothing kisses into your clit, sucking gently at the nub before dipping his tongue back into your hole for seconds, thirds -

This is madness . How someone could pass up this opportunity is far beyond him. Your fist in his hair, surrounded by your pulse as it thrums within the warm, pillowy skin of your thighs, the way you chase your release, rocking into his mouth and coating his chin with your slick, is everything .

It is everything.

In the cornered haze of his mind, he almost regrets his promises. Had he known it would be like this, that you’d be the first and only memorable partner he’s had in the last two centuries, he may have reconsidered.

Hells, he should have reconsidered the moment his tongue slipped into your mouth and you had the gall to taste that fucking sweet - to be that damned responsive .

How is he supposed to play this off as if it changes nothing - as if this means nothing at all?

“Shit, Astarion -”

Pesky details. He’ll have to sort those out later.

“I’m - I think I’m close -”

Astarion is a smart man - smart enough to know that the best course of action here, when you’re on the precipice of coming apart, is to simply redouble his efforts and continue on as he has been. No special trick up his sleeve, no overly indulgent stylized movements, just sucking as gently and generously as you need. He applies the same steady, circular pressure of his tongue, curls his fingers and fucks you with them in a steady, calculated rythm, until -

The moment you fall apart will be forever burned into his mind.

He will remember it all: the twitching of your thighs, the tight pinch of your brows, the sound of your cries as your hips stutter in his strong hold. He’ll remember the way he moans, earnestly, as he laps you through it, eager to extend your high for as long as your body allows him. And he will surely remember the thrill that runs up the length of his spine at the sight of you losing yourself at his hand.

But most of all, he will remember the moment immediately after - when your movements slow, and your tight grip loosens from his hair; when your warm hand falls to the side of his face, the soft pads of your fingertips rubbing gentle circles into the shell of his pointed ear.

You may not have even noticed the small gesture, too blissed out and trembling, but when the two of you look back on this moment years from now, Astarion will laugh at how blind he was - how he should have seen the spark of fondness in your eyes as you fought to catch your breath, the kindling that was twisting in his chest at the sight of your flushed skin, and the fire that would grow there until it nearly consumed him.

He should have known that this was the start of something greater.

But at this moment, all he knows is the sudden, inexplicable urge to keep you here tonight - to prove himself worthy of coming back, should you ever have an itch that needs scratching. Perhaps tomorrow, or the next night, or any other time you’d see fit.

Astarion places a final kiss on the junction of your hip, right where the skin is thinnest above the bone, then leans back to fully appreciate his work.

You are breathless , chest heaving from sheer exertion.

“That was…”

You huff out a laugh as you try to find the right words.

“Perfect?” he raises an eyebrow at you, grin tugging at the corner of his lips, “I know. Like I said, I’m quite good at this.”

He wipes at the clear slick on his chin and shamelessly licks his hand clean, sucking your mess off his fingers with a playful pop.

Your face flushes with embarrassment - the pretty color now matching the puffy, reddened skin of your sex.

“Do you want more?” he asks, as if his cock isn’t threatening to leak a dark patch into his trousers, “We don’t have to, of course, but -”

“Yes.”

Astarion’s smiles are normally calculated - purposeful, and poised to perfection, but the one that finds its way to his face at your eagerness is as real as the ache beginning to bloom in his knees.

“Come here, then,” he says, dragging his weight back to the blankets. He doesn’t even have the time to readjust the decorative pillows before you’re clamoring on top of him, covering his neck with impatient kisses and helping him remove his clothes.

“Eager, are we?” he teases, but he’s met with no response. Your mouth is too busy sucking bruises into the pale, hard planes of his chest, hands working diligently at the laces of his pants.

The moment his legs and cock are free, Astarion wastes no time wrapping his arms around your midsection and seating you perfectly on his hips, the searing heat of your slit molds around him, dragging up and down as you grind against his length.

There’s urgency in the air - in the way your mouth finds his own. It buzzes and hums, growing with every pass of your hips, prickling like burrs beneath his skin. He’s as much a victim of it as you are -here in this little corner of the wilderness - to the strange and unrecognizable pull.

This desire to touch you.

With one hand anchoring the back of your neck, he takes his length with the other, notching himself at your entrance - an invitation you eagerly accept.

You sink down, enveloping him in suffocating heat .

The grunt that escapes him is entirely involuntary - the honesty behind it bleeding out between his teeth, escaping with a hiss.

“Shit,” he huffs under his breath, willing his brain to focus on anything other than how you mold so perfectly to him. It’s almost like you were made for this - for him - and the notion itself is almost enough to toss him right over the edge.

It’s hard enough to believe he’s present with you, here in this moment, rather than falling into oblivion and allowing the act to pass him by.

But to be enjoying it this much?

Sheer disbelief.

Your hips move experimentally, sighing with relief as you take the rest of him down to the hilt. His grip on the nape of your neck tightens, nails digging small grooves into the base of your scalp. The slow rock of your hips as you adjust to his size would surely be enough to finish him, were he any ordinary man - were he not determined to brand this night into your mind for the rest of whatever time you have left on this earth - tadpoles be damned.

It’s not supposed to be like this. You’re not supposed to be like this, melding so beautifully around his length. But he has appearances to maintain, and spilling into you now would surely ruin his carefully crafted reputation, so he steals what’s left of his composure and continues on.

Astarion stares at where your bodies meet, bringing a practiced thumb back to your perfect little nub and pressing . The delicious pressure has your forehead falling to his shoulder.

“Can I - agh, ” you pause as he cruelly begins to rub your clit, much too slow to actually finish the job, but just enough to feel you clench around him. He continues like that for a few seconds, savoring the way you grip, release, and start to dribble down from where he’s rooted so deeply inside.

“Can you what, my dear?”

“Can I move, please?”

“Hm,” he sighs with feigned indifference, “Well, since you asked so nicely.”

His hands guide you into a comfortable rhythm, stroking your walls and filling every inch of your greedy cunt as it swallows him up - back and forth, rocking into him until you’re good and split open.

You ride him until your legs begin to fail you - until he has to grab your waist to keep you steady as he fucks up into you in earnest. The hard, wet slap of his damp skin against yours mixes with your strained, desperate moans. He pounds you like he’s sating some sort of hunger - fucks you with so much force that your slick forms a thick white ring of cream at the base of his cock.

His thumb rubs expert circles into your clit with firm, gentle pressure, until he feels that telltale fluttering of your walls around him, and your blunt nails are digging into where his shoulders meet his chest.

“You’re close again, aren’t you?” he grunts, and the question is met only with an affirmative whine. “Good. This time, I want to feel it.”

His hands move to your rear, squeezing and kneading - pulling and pushing your hips to grind himself even deeper into you until your body gives up its orgasm.

It drags you under like a raging current.

You wail pitifully against his shoulder - the suffocating grip of your sex working to milk him dry, gushing around him and soaking his thick cock as he relentlessly fucks you through it.

It's almost enough to end him, it truly is, but Astarion is nothing if not thorough, and G ods be damned if you leave this clearing tomorrow morning without your cunt permanently molded to his shape - without this encounter seared into your very being.

His arms wrap around you, pulling your chest tight against his own and turning you over until your back meets the soft furs - his hips rolling into yours as the waves of white-hot pleasure pulse through you.

There will be many more where that came from. When you eventually crawl back to his tent with a shy gaze and offer him another taste of your neck, pretending it was simply a coincidence that you waited until the dead of night to seek him out, when the rest of your merry little troup were fast asleep in their bedrolls. Couldn’t stay away? He’ll joke, pretending as though his heart doesn’t stir at the sight of you.

He’ll bed you again, and again, and again. Whenever and wherever you should ask: on his desk - tomes shoved carelessly to the ground, between the cracked stone walls of a cave while the others ready their gear, tangled within the sheets of the first real bed you happen to find. He’ll fuck you in those stolen moments with a willing mouth and hands and cock, however many times it takes for him to realize this does mean something to him - even if he isn’t quite sure what that something is .

And you, being the perfect thing you are, will be patient, and give him the space he needs to figure that out.

“One more,” he whispers hot against your cheek, “I think we can get one more out of you.”

“This is insane. How are you so - gods, ” he’s got just the right angle now, dragging languidly in and out of your thoroughly fucked hole.

He’s done quite a number on you already, and you’ll likely need a day to recover the strength in your legs. The others will surely mock you for it, but perhaps you’ll manage to blame it on the hangover?

“Astarion, I - I don’t think I can do another -”

“You can,” he says with the confidence of a man who’s done this before - one who knows the limits of a woman’s body and exactly how to push them. “And you’re going to stay right here, wrapped beautifully around my cock, until you give me what I want.”

He drives the point home with a sudden, hard thrust, and the rush of it has you keening in surprise, hands flying to his back and heels digging in for purchase.

In fairness, he’s hardly given you a chance to come down from the last climax, but you sought him out tonight. You knew what you were getting into, no less than a mouse offering itself to a cat. He’ll toy with you until he’s had his fill - the first man in your life to ever make you come apart. Not just once or twice, but three times once he’s through with you.

And while the third takes a bit more work, as expected, he quickly realizes you appreciate a decent amount of force, so he feverishly pounds into you - pinning your wrists at your sides to prevent too much useless, unnecessary squirming.

Astarion thinks could get addicted to this level of control if he isn’t careful - his brave, unwavering, diplomatic leader held captive beneath him as he wrings every last bit of pleasure from your body, drunk on his cock and fucked out well past the point of any decorum.

The way you moan for him now would put some prostitutes to shame - eyes glazed over and thoughts entirely wiped of anything other than being split open and thoroughly used.

It reminds him of why he’s here. The thankless months you’ve spent worrying yourself over every vagrant’s problems are now practically a thing of the past. And after tonight, you’ll surely be ruined for any other man, securing himself in your good graces. A win, win, all around.

Your orgasm almost sneaks past him, too caught up in his own musings to notice, but the subtle rush of slickness and the resounding sound of your body sucking him in even deeper gives it away. Your head rolls to the side as you choke back a sob, tears forming the corners of your eyes as your exhausted cunt barely manages to scrounge up the effort to squeeze him, and that’s when he finally decides you’ve had enough.

“Where do you want me?” he asks.

“Inside? Agh - Inside, please, ”

Oh.

An unexpected answer, but not an unwelcome one.

And so, he does.

For the first time in his memory, he comes entirely apart.

With a few more strokes, he spills inside of you, and the sheer impact of it takes him by surprise.

Hissing between his gritted teeth and buried in your warmth he floods you to the brim, floods every inch of your cunt until his come has no more room to fill. The spend clings to his cock with every stroke, drooling out of you and tracing a cloudy white line through the valley of your rear before soaking into the blankets beneath.

Astarion heaves like a man with functioning lungs, groans from the sudden, noticeable soreness in his limbs, and actually, truly laughs at the absurdity of it all.

Just how long had the two of you been at this? Over an hour, surely?

He’s about to ask you - maybe try his hand at a bit of pillow talk for the first time in his life - but when he looks back at your face, he finds that you’re barely conscious, just on the precipice of passing out from exhaustion.

He pulls out of you, trying his best not to grunt through the overstimulating drag of your skin against his.

Astarion could count on one hand how many memorable encounters he’s had since the beginning of his servitude, and even less when considering how many he enjoyed.

Well, enjoyed would be a very generous descriptor. More so, how many he was able to stomach until the end. And while his anatomy was capable of producing results despite his head being elsewhere, this was… different.

You are different - that much was clear from the beginning, since the moment you forgave him for pulling a knife on you and, for whatever reason, trusted him enough to allow him to stay with you, despite it being an objectively stupid thing to do.

He’ll tell you as much, when he finally confesses his feelings for you. That had it not been for your endless patience and your unfathomable kindness, he may have never learned to love at all.

But he wont have the words, let alone the maturity , to articulate that for quite some time.

For now, here you are, snoring softly beneath him.

And here he is, with the beginnings of a strange, unrecognizable tingling in his chest.

What ever will he do with you?

#bg3 #astarion bg3 #astarion acunin #astarion fanfic #astarion/reader #my fics #mine if only for the night #posting this and then walking the fuck away from my computer

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