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#your niceness is appreciated but also dreaded
totheblood · 8 months
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cutty love.
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pairing: ellie williams x reader
summary: ellie becomes your best friend and you stumble upon her journal
warnings: this is purely fluff, cursing, suggestive themes maybe once? idk very soft
a/n: this is because i want bff ellie and also domestic ellie and also wanted to put eleven labs to the test with their new features so please... enjoy! AI AUDIOS SPREAD THROUGHOUT THE FIC also reblogs, asks, and replies are so appreciated and encouraged! thank u kisses
wc: 2.2k
"all my dreams my dear they are of you."
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spring came fast to jackson.
dew painted the grass on early mornings and little patches of snow began to melt into the soil. winter was finally over and you were finally back on farming duty. however, you weren’t as excited as you thought you would be.
patrol was something you would have dreaded a year ago, the idea of entering the outside world terrifying you completely. but as winter came around, and farming became obsolete, maria had warned you you needed to sign up for a new task. your dumbass, however, signed up too late and both stable and kitchen work were all filled up. patrol became your only option. 
on your first day of patrol, you were assigned with dina. she basically held your hand through it: walking into buildings first, showing you how to aim and shoot your gun, and teaching you all the best places to hide. it was an easy day with one encounter with an infected (who dina shot on sight).
your second day you were paired with jesse, who was, to your surprise, gentler. he made jokes when he could tell you were getting scared, always walked with his hand outstretched in front of you when walking into new territory, and taught you how to make a molotov cocktail.  you felt safe with them.
on your third day, you were paired with ellie who was less than kind at first. upon seeing you she rolled her eyes and scoffed, mumbling something like, “why do i always have to be paired with the newbies?” 
to avoid confrontation you simply kept your mouth shut. you were supposed to be partners and you were going to do your best to keep yourself alive. like the others, ellie walked into spaces first and after clearing the area for any infected, started a small fire in the lookout to keep the two of you warm.
you stood at a distance from her where she was placing her palms just above the fire and then rubbing them together for warmth. you watched on with a shiver, shaking as you looked out the window.
“you’re not going to get warm from all the way over there,” ellie spoke up, causing you to snap your head in her direction.
“what?”
“the fire is over here. you have to stand close to get at least a little warm,” she commented, beckoning you over with the wave of her hand, “here, come get warm.”
“oh,” you stepped closer to the fire, sitting down across from her, bathing in the warmth the fire offered.
“you’re not really talkative, huh?” ellie chuckled, taking picking at her nails as she spoke.
“uh, no, i usually am,” you laughed nervously, looking to the raised skin around her nailbeds.
“oh, so you just don’t like me?” her tone was joking, but there seemed to be an ounce of vulnerability to it. her eyes looked up to yours, scanning your face for a reaction.
“no, i just,” you took a deep breath and shrugged, “earlier you said you didn’t want to be stuck with the newbie so i didn’t want to be a bother or anything.”
“shit,” she breathed, pinching the bridge of her nose. all of the skin around her nails were raw and red, “i’m such an asshole. i didn’t mean it like that. i’ve just had a shitty week.”
“no, it’s fine,” you forced a smile, “i understand. i’m just nervous and this is all new to me.”
she paused for a moment, looking you over and taking another deep sigh. 
“i’m not usually an asshole.”
“sure.”
“no, seriously, i’m usually nice.”
“i believe you.”
“ok, i’m kind of nice, but i’m doing my best.”
“it’s fine, i’m also an asshole,” you spit out and she laughed. a full chested laugh that went on for what felt like a minute. it was the kind of laugh were all of her teeth showed and wrinkles formed by her eyes. it made your chest feel warm. 
from that moment on you and ellie became close friends. if you knew you were patrolling with her you would bring her a corn muffin wrapped in fabric. she’d say something about how good of a cook you were or mumble a ‘fuck yeah’ before stuffing half the muffin in her mouth. if she killed any infected later she would say something like, “that was only for the muffin. you’re gonna need to bring me another before i do any more of your dirty work.”
occasionally, she would bring her guitar and show you some of the music she was writing in any downtime you had. she was always so excited too, saying something along the lines of: “let’s try to clear this area as fast as we can so i can show you my new stuff.”
when you sat in front of her, legs crossed in front of you, you watched as a bright blush spread across her face before she sang. 
“this is new, so take it easy on me, okay?”
at some point towards the end of december she came to your house with something wrapped in fabric. her whole face was red, but you couldn’t tell if it was from the snow or her nervousness as she shoved the present into your hand.
“what’s this?” you asked, eyes wide ushering her in from the snow and shutting the door behind you.
“it’s a christmas gift,” she smiled, “i don’t know if you know what christmas is but people used to celebrate it back in the old days. joel told me about it and now we celebrate it every year. it’s basically just a holiday where you give your loved ones… or friends a present. they used to pretend this big fat guy with a beard came down people's chimneys and gave presents to kids who were good but i guess they gave up that idea. santa probably got infected or some shit. anyways, this is for you.”
when you peeled back the fabric, a picture of you sketched out on charcoal was on a piece of thick paper. you looked beautiful. it almost looked as if ellie had spent hours looking at your face and studying all the tiny details of it. not to your knowledge, but she had. 
a gasp fell from your lips as tears welled up in your eyes. you didn’t even have time to thank ellie before you were squeezing her tightly in your arms, causing her to cough. you were literally hugging her so tight she couldn’t breathe, but she didn’t mind it. she took a deep breath and hugged you back, smelling the pine on your hair and skin. 
“i love it, ellie,” you whispered, “thank you.”
when january came around, ellie decided you didn’t know how to hold a gun. most of your shots were misses and the drawback made you stumble back. you were becoming a liability, but mostly ellie feared for your safety. all it took was one fall and you would never be the same again.
so here ellie stood giving verbal directions on how to hold a gun. you, however, were a mess who didn’t know your left from your right.
“your left foot! i said your left foot!”
“this is my left foot!”
“babe, that’s your right.”
“oh,” you switched legs but it wasn’t good enough. ellie came up behind you, placing her hands on your shoulder and fixing your posture. the heat from where her hands were on you radatied throughout your body and went straight down your legs. she stepped closer, placing a hand on your stomach and pressing it lightly. your breath hitched. 
“okay, now move your hand like this,” her free hand moved from the base of your arm to your fingertips. she adjusted your stance slowly. slow enough for it to feel like foreplay, “just like that. yeah, good girl.”
you could feel her breath on your neck where your scarf didn’t cover. it was all too sensual and then SNAP. a sound in the distance made her jump back and step in front of you, her own gun drawn in a matter of seconds.
your gun stance was never revisited after that. 
but now it was spring, and you would no longer be on patrol. as much as you liked spending time with ellie, it was still too much of a risk for you to take when you enjoyed farming so much. when you told ellie a big pout broke out on her face as she dramatically reached for you. 
“what am i going to do without you on patrol?” she whined, squeezing you so hard it made you laugh.
“we can still hang out,” you reminded her, pushing her off you, “plus maybe i’ll be back on patrol next winter.”
“yeah, but i liked having 8 hours of us time. now we will get like 4 hours a day max,” ellie leaned her head back on her couch, the dramatic pout still there. 
“how about we meet here every day after our shifts and have dinner together?” you offered, making her face light up, “i can cook and everything.”
“okay, but you have to sleep over at least once a week,” she demanded
“deal,” you smiled, teeth showing.
“if i’m not here though you can just let yourself in,” she casually commented, “i’ll give you a spare key.”
it went on like that for weeks, you coming over after your shift and making dinner and laughing with ellie about something joel or dina said until you eventually fell asleep on her couch. some nights you would watch a movie together, others you would bake something together (even though ellie usually tapped out when it came to cracking an egg). if ellie was running late or something you would make up time by cleaning up your mess from the kitchen or tidying up the living room, but by that time she would be stumbling through the door and apologizing for being late. 
this night, however, ellie was running extremely late. you had already cleaned both the kitchen and living room and there was still no sight of her. to avoid anxiously pacing around the room and waiting for her, you decided to clean her room. you swept the floors, wiped down her bedside table, and began making her bed before you noticed a notebook tucked in between her bed and it’s frame. 
you pulled it out of its place and examined it. it looked like it was frequently used, the edges of it torn and dirty. the yellow pages of the notebook were slightly hanging out and it looked like pages had been ripped out and stuffed back in. you shouldn’t read this, your mind rang clear. you wanted to respect ellie’s privacy, but curiosity got the best of you. 
you flipped to a middle page, skimming over some entry about how much joel was being an asshole before stopping at your name. your name in her notebook with hearts drawn around it. your name written in pink over and over again. below the different variations of your name was a paragraph, presumably about you. you read it in ellie’s voice.
“another successful patrol. and by successful i mean i tricked her into holding my hand. i probably sound like such a creep but all i want is to be close to her. i want to hold her hand as we walk down the streets of jackson and kiss her in a booth at the diner. when she got scared she would squeeze my hand a little. it made me dizzy. this crush feels like it’s going to ruin me. i think she may ruin me but i don’t even care. all i want is her.”
you smiled, flipping a page, heat rushing to your cheeks as you read another passage about you:
“i sang a song for her today that i wrote about her. she told me my voice was beautiful and asked who it was about. i panicked and told her it was about cat. fucking cat!!! i haven’t thought about cat in fucking forever. i just want to tell her already because this is so fucking embarrassing. she probably thinks i don’t like her but i do. what if she never knows? i’ll tell her eventually… i will.”
you sit down on her still unmade bed, reading the next page.
“i wanted to kiss her so bad today. ugh. her lips were all red and pouty from the cranberry juice and when she smiled her teeth were all red. she asked why i was smiling at her and i told her that her teeth were all red. she looked so embarrassed and got up to clean them. i felt like an asshole but that’s better than being rejected by her right?”
another one.
“we watched curtis and viper today after patrol. she cooked us chicken and then cried because it was her favorite chicken. this girl has the biggest heart in the world. when the movie was done we just talked about what life would be like if the apocalypse didn’t happen. she said she would have been a teacher or some kind of helping profession. she’s fucking sweet. i told her i’d probably be a dentist or a lawyer. something fun. i left out the part where i’d want to come home to her every night. i’m such a loser. i think i love her.”
the last part made you gasp, except the gasp wasn’t coming from your mouth, it came from the person standing in front of you. ellie.
“what are you doing with that?”
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killinfate · 6 months
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writing this in honour of Halloween (it’s literally over now)
HALLOWEEN.
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MIKE SCHMIDT X READER
— HALLOWEEN WAS TOMORROW NIGHT AND MIKE FELT SOMEWHAT NERVOUS ABOUT ASKING YOU THIS.
Mike was your boyfriend, however he also held the responsibility of being Abby’s guardian. Although he wanted to spend Halloween with you, watching some horror movie full of gruesome monsters and have that cliché moment where he asks “are you scared?”, Abby had reminded him of something that morning.
As he served up breakfast, his sister approached smiling , sitting at the table opposite the kitchen.
“You’re still taking me trick or treating right?” She asked. Mike closed his eyes for a moment, scolding himself.
Of course he was meant to do that.
Abby’s face faltered for a moment, worried her brother would turn her down. Naturally, Mike couldn’t.
“Yeah, yeah of course.” He told his sister, her face lighting up once more. Mike reflected his sister’s smile before it dawned on him he wouldn’t be spending the night with you.
He called you up that evening, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he dreaded the thought of disappointing you.
“Hello?” He heard your voice on the other line.
“Hey.” Mike said, attempting to sound cheerful.
“Hey, is everything alright?” You asked. Mike took a moment to sigh. He dreaded letting you down. He hadn’t been open to getting into a relationship before but now he had more of a grasp on his life and had found you. He was constantly scared of messing up; never having had loved someone the way he loved you before.
“Listen I’ve got to take Abby trick or treating so we can’t do anything on Halloween night, I’m sorry.” Mike apologises.
“Oh…that’s okay.” He hears you say simply but he knows you don’t mean it. You have to at least be a little disappointed.
“You can come if you want.” Mike murmurs the suggestion.
“Really?” Your voice sounded perkier and lively as if you were fond of the idea.
“Yeah but it’s stupid you’d probably hate it there’s just running, screaming kids all in the neighbourhood—“ you cut Mike off.
“No seriously I’d love to, that’d be nice.” You said with certainty. You wanted to spend time with Mike on Halloween and had no problem accompanying him with Abby to go trick or treating.
Mike goes quiet for a moment, his brows furrowing. “Are you sure?” He asks confusedly. He didn’t know you’d be so sure with the idea.
“Yeah, I’ll come with.” You tell him. You’d only just started dating Mike for a month and hadn’t acquainted Abby all that well. It was a good opportunity for you to bond with the girl better and ultimately spend time with Mike.
“Okay, sure yeah. I’ll see you tomorrow night.” Mike says, relaxing more.
“Bye.” You say quietly with a smile, hanging up the phone.
-
The next night you came over, parking your car at the curb of Mike’s house. You locked your car before walking onto the porch and knocking on the door.
Mike opened the door, candy bucket at the ready before realising it was you.
“Sorry to disappoint, you were so prepared.” You say sarcastically with a smile. Mike shakes his head slightly with a faint laugh and kisses the corner of your lips.
Mike leaves the bowl on the porch and you laugh slightly. “What?” He asks as he looks up.
“You know kids are just gonna take handfuls of that, right? It’ll be gone in seconds.” You tell him, looking down at the bowl.
“I know but…we all did that at some point, right?” Mike replied.
The both of you head out with Abby who makes conversation with you as she walks. Mike enjoyed seeing the two of you talk, appreciating the moment with his two favourite people. He knew the both of you would end up getting along.
Eventually, the three of you got back to the house. Abby was fulfilled with the amount of candy she’d got but grew tired quickly as her excitement died down. However, she was still eager to spend time with you and Mike.
"Well, we were gonna watch a scary movie." Mike tells her, hoping she'd be put off at the idea.
After the Pizzeria, nothing phased this girl.
"I can handle it." Abby assured him smiling, kicking off her shoes and getting comfortable on the couch already. Mike sighed a little before walking into the living room.
The two of you decided on the movie Halloween from 1978 and you rested close to Mike, your body resting against his. Mike's arm was draped over your shoulder and he kissed your forehead, Abby soon falling asleep against you not long into the movie.
"She thinks you're great you know, she's started drawing you." Mike murmurs against your forehead, glancing over at Abby.
"Really?" You asked, a smile gracing your lips upon hearing this. "Good to know.
Mike was glad you were fond of Abby, not wanting you to see her as some kind of burden for his time being split between you and looking after Abby.
However, that was the complete opposite of how you were, clearly happy to look after Abby and care for her too.
Mike loved that about you.
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rafeandonlyrafe · 2 months
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when in rome
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words: 1.7k
warnings: 18+ only!, smut!, p in v sex, unprotected sex, female receiving oral, mentions of a blowjob, plane sex, mile high club woohoo!, cheating, not a happy ending!, angst
“hello.” you smile at the handsome man as the flight attendant guides him to his seat, and you’re glad its next to yours.
“hey.” he smiles right back and you swear you fall in love at that moment. “i’m rafe.”
“y/n.” you can feel your face flush, and you pray that its a cute blush rather than a full red face.
“nice to meet you.” he adjusts how he's sitting. you figure that due to his height it must be uncomfortable to fly, even if he is flying business class. “gonna get to know each other real well, huh?”
“yeah, seems like it.” you giggle. you find yourself going from dreading the 8 hour nonstop flight to looking forward to it as you fall into easy conversation with rafe.
“so, what are your plans in italy?” he asks you.
“ah, vacation mostly. i have some distant family i’m going to visit but its really just a fun trip for me. what about yourself?” “business.” rafe sighs. you should have been able to guess by his outfit, everything about him reads business man, even though he’s clearly on the younger side, you guess not much older than yourself.
“you’ll get some time to see a bit of the sights at least, right?” you ask hopefully.
“i will definitely find time if you’re the one showing them to me.” rafe smirks at you, making the flirtation clear, giving you the go ahead to bat your eyelashes right back at him.
--
“this-” you gasp. “this isn’t what i had in mind when you said show you the sights. thought you meant like the trevi fountain or-” your mind is completely blank of other attractions to see in rome, despite that being your whole reason for visiting. you’re far too overwhelmed with rafe between your thighs.
“mmm, this sight is all i wanna see.” he leans forward to press a kiss to your clit before darting his tongue out and flicking over it, movements still teasingly light like they have been for the past ten minutes.
“feels so good.” you moan. even with keeping his movements so gentle, its still evident rafe has a talented mouth.
he finally leans in fully, lips wrapping around your clit as he sucks the sensitive flesh into his mouth. your hands reach for his hair, grabbing onto the dirty blond strands. 
you try to keep your moans quiet as rafe eats you out, you really do, for the sake of the people staying in the hotel rooms next to yours, but you simply can’t help when you moan out, his sucking forcing it out of you.
“can’t wait to get inside this cute little hole.” rafe smirks, tongue moving down to your entrance, finally showing it some appreciation. he laps over your cunt, unashamed to slurp and swallow your juices, shocked how wet you are (although he shouldn’t be after teasing you for so long).
“i can’t wait to feel your dick.” you moan, hands tightening on his hair but rafe doesn’t complain as you push his face forward, finally conceding and sticking his tongue into your entrance, feeling your gummy walls against the muscle as he begins to thrust it in and out.
rafe continues for as long as he possibly can, even grinds into the bed slightly to hold off from how badly he needs to give his dick attention, but he can’t take it anymore.
you are completely naked while rafe is still fully dressed, now kneeling between your legs. he works on the buttons of his shirt first before tossing it away, undoing his belt buckle while keeping his eyes locked with yours until he’s able to slide it out of the loops, also joining his shirt somewhere on the floor.
he’s built for a businessman, muscles gleaming in the low light as he works his pants and underwear off next until his hard cock is revealed, standing upright away from his body with pride.
“wanna suck you.” you begin to sit up, but rafe pushes your waist gently back down against the bed.
“you can suck me off after showing me the trevi fountain tomorrow. need to get inside you.”
“tomorrow?” you smile. you weren’t sure when you called his number after exchanging them on the plane if he would even pick up, let alone find time to come and see you while in rome. “aren’t you busy?” “don’t care what my boss says.” rafe simply shrugs. “not if it means getting more time with you.”
its strangely romantic for someone who is basically a complete stranger to say, but the thought is quickly swept out of your head when rafe drapes himself over your body, his cock rubbing through your slick folds.
“condom.” you suddenly realize, eyes widening.
“shit, i don’t have one.” rafe groans, still rubbing his cock against you. “please, baby.” “i-i guess its fine.” you’re on the pill, but you only met rafe a few days ago, and unprotected sex would be completely out of the question if you weren’t so desperate for him to plunge his dick inside of you.
“thank you, baby.” rafe says, the nickname rolling like butter off his tongue, making your eyes flutter closed.
he reaches down with one hand, lining his cock up with your entrance before sinking in, both voices joining in a chorus as you moan out. 
“fuck, you’re so tight. feels so good.” rafe praises you, his hand reaching to grip your tit in is large hand, encompassing so much of your chest.
“mmm, slow.” you flinch slightly, still adjusting to how big he feels inside of you, stretching at your walls. “slow at first please.”
rafe nods, hips barely moving as he rocks in and out, dropping himself lower to press a kiss to your lips, quickly turning into a makeout session until rafe just can’t keep the slow pace anymore.
“you’re good.” you tell rafe, who has been slowly increasing his tempo since you started kissing.
“thank god.” he moans, hips going from soft swings to instant heavy pounding, thrusting wildly up into you. you let out an involuntary squeal as you reach up above your head, gripping the headboard as rafe repositions himself slightly, now kneeling with your hips held firmly in his big hands, holding you up so he gets the perfect angle to hammer inside of you.
you moan as you feel your high building, never having been able to from just penetration before, but rafe is hitting a spot inside of you that you swear no man has ever touched before, and when you feel him release inside of you, your own orgasm forces itself out too with a scream.
--
“i mean what are the chances we have the same flight back.” you laugh. you’re not sat next to each other like before, but you do plan on asking to move seats so rafe can keep you preoccupied again.
“i know.” he smirks, leaning forward to press a kiss to the edge of your mouth. “can’t wait to fuck you in the bathroom.”
you roll your eyes at him at the moment, but you do let him take you into the bathroom when the lights dim for everyone else to sleep, easily enticed by his blue eyes.
“gotta be quiet for real now baby.” rafe says, having somehow maneuvered both of your clothes off in the small room.
his hips are thrusting up into yours, his palm covering your mouth, seeing by the gloss in your eyes that you’re already too far gone to hold your noises back. thankfully, your hands are still able to grip the edge of the sink to keep yourself steady.
“can’t be like in the hotel room.” he smirks. you eventually got a noise complaint on your fourth night there, but the hotel associate simply asked you to keep it down before retreating, probably intimidated by the fact that rafe still had very little on when answering the door.
“wanna kiss you so bad, gotta promise me you won’t moan the second i take my hand away.” rafe says, looking into your eyes. 
you nod, batting your eyelashes at him in a way that has him instantly conceding, hand dropping away from your mouth, quickly being replaced by his own lips, still not trusting you fully, especially when he uses his newly freed hand to reach between your bodies and rub your clit.
rafe manages to dampen your moans that flow into his mouth as he pumps up faster, still without a condom, having never gotten around to buying them between working and trying to spend every spare moment inside of you, only agreeing to see the sights so your bodies could both recover before fucking again.
“close.” you whimper. rafe smiles, hes learned your body so well in such a short period of time, he was able to tell just from the way your cunt began to pulsate around his cock that your high was almost upon you.
rafe moves faster, the sink squeaking slightly until your body tenses briefly before turning into a tremble, clit pulsing under his finger as rafe lets out a low moan, lodging himself as deep within you as he can before cumming.
you feel blissed out, elated for the rest of the flight, even managing to catch some sleep while leaning against rafes shoulder. you don’t even think about what is going to happen after you land back in america, how you are going somewhere different than where rafe is.
you walk out of the plane right behind him, expecting him to turn and take your hand like he did when walking around rome, or to turn around ask you if you’d like to chat and have some coffee, maybe even kiss you and pull you into a random secluded lounge.
but he does none of those things, simply keeps on walking. you follow him, tears starting to swell in your eyes.
they fall when a girl runs up to him, her long blond waves flowing as she jumps into his arms, pressing a kiss to his lips that rafe instantly accepts like he hasn’t been kissing you for the past week.
“i’ve missed you so much, rafey!” she squeals. you’re not sure if its her words or the high pitch of her voice that causes you to stagger back.
rafe still doesn’t look back as he walks away, doesn’t turn to see you fall to your knees, doesn’t witness the way sobs rack your body.
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stevie-petey · 6 days
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episode one: suzie, do you copy?
Steve sighs. “Those kids are manipulating your power over me to get what they want.” “You call it manipulation, I call it bonding.”  Another sigh escapes Steve. “You’re going to be the death of me.” “And yet you stay.” You tease. “And yet I stay.”
Summary: you help nancy sneak through jonathans window, the party uses you for your "in" with steve, and you sorta become the reason dustin almost blinds lucas. meanwhile, steve tries, and fails, to make you his girlfriend (this will happen all summer), but have no fear ! dustin intercepts a russian code and makes everything even harder for everyone. what a sweet brother <3
Rating: general, swearing
Warnings: allusions to violence, swearing, fem!reader, use of y/n
Words: 9.6k
Before you swing in: shes here !!! season 3 of come home <333 im so excited for yall to read what i have planned, and thank you so much for being so patient as i planned the season out and started the chapters :) season 3 is pure chaos and i hope yall love what ive created, im proud of the changes i made <3333 we get some more insight into bug this season, which i also hope yall love !
-
June 27th, 1985.
A summer breeze gently creeps into Jonathan’s room, bringing the scent of dandelions and your childhood with it. It’s early evening and Jonathan hums to himself quietly, laying in his bed as he lazily skims through a comic he stole from you last week. You’re next to him as you carefully cut pieces of construction paper to glue onto the posterboard. Dustin comes home from camp in a few days and you want his welcome home banner to be perfect.
In the other room you hear the floorboards creak, followed by the sound of Joyce and Will laughing at whatever movie they’ve put on in the living room. Hearing their laughs makes you smile; it’s been so long since you’ve heard them laugh.
The tune that Jonathan hums now becomes a familiar one, and absent mindedly you begin to hum along with him. The cool summer night’s air encases the two of you, as if it senses that you want to freeze this moment forever. You’re in the Byers home, pressed against Jonathan’s side as you hum together an old song from when you were both fourteen and thought you had the world all figured out,
It’s nice, having this moment all to yourself with him. Moments alone with him have become few and far between, and it saddens you to think about.
There’s a new mall in town, Starcourt, and within a few months of it opening, Bookstrordinary has slowly been edging out of business. The entire town of Hawkins quickly fell in love with the mall, but with this love came the abandonment of downtown Hawkins.
Mrs. Waters can barely afford to have you work more than a few hours a day, so you’ve been spending your days visiting Nancy and Jonathan at their internship at the Hawkins Post or hanging at Scoops Ahoy to see Steve and Robin. While your friends have been lovely, you can’t swallow down the fear that you’ll lose your job by the end of summer.
As if somehow reading your thoughts, Jonathan puts down his comic and pokes your cheek. “Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask if you and Nance thought of anything else to try and save Bookstrordinary.”
You glue down a letter and try to distract yourself with the miniscule task. Nancy has been brainstorming a million ideas to try and help Mrs. Water, and while you appreciate her effort, it’s no use. Swallowing down even more dread, you shake your head at Jonathan. “No, nothing. Nancy offered to help organize a book drive to get more customers, but…”
“It wouldn’t be enough.” Jonathan finishes for you.
“Not nearly enough,” you sigh, desperately wanting to change the topic now. “But besides me possibly losing my job soon, how has yours been at the Hawkins Post?”
Now it’s Jonathan’s turn to sigh. “It’s… okay? I guess. I–I mean, definitely not what I expected it to be. The hours suck and the men are awful, but…” he shifts uncomfortably and looks away from you, embarrassed. “A job is a job.”
You rub his arm, understanding what he means. The Byers have always struggled with money, but ever since Will went missing two years ago and Jonathan lost his last job at the Hawk movie theater, it’s only gotten worse. They’ve tried hiding it, but last week you sneakily paid for Will’s ice cream at Scoops Ahoy while no one else was looking.
“I get it, bee.” You reassure him, hating that he even feels embarrassed in the first place.
Jonathan smiles and leans into your touch, appreciative of the fact that you know his family well enough by now to understand all he’s too ashamed to say. The two of you sit quietly for a few moments before he tries to lighten the mood with something else. “You excited for your birthday, bug?”
“Ugh,” you shake your head in disgust, which Jonathan laughs at. He knows you’ve never really liked your birthday. “Don’t remind me.”
“It’s in a few days, so you gotta suck it up.” Jonathan flicks your forehead and you swat your hand at him. “Besides, I bet $5 that Steve has some grand proposal planned for your birthday this year. He’s spent the entire summer drooling over you.”
His words make you blush furiously. “He has not–”
“He definitely has,” Jonathan tries to flick you again but you dodge, giggling. “I’m surprised he hasn’t publicly declared your love for you yet. I think there’s a betting pool going around the party.”
You gasp. “You’re lying!”
“Nope. Lucas and Max both lost last week, they bet mid June. Now it’s only me, Nancy, Will, and Dustin in the running.”
“What about Mike and El?”
“Mike didn’t want to encourage you dating Steve and the party agreed it felt unfair to have El gamble seeing as how she’s, ya know, still getting used to being in society.”
Despite yourself, you laugh. The idea is so bizarre and lovely, knowing how invested everyone is in your alleged love life, and it makes the worry you’ve been feeling fade away. “Can I join the pool? If I actually lose my job, I’ll need the money.”
Jonathan scoffs at you. “That goes against every gambling rule–”
“Please? I could be poor soon!”
“No, it’s not going to happen–”
“But–”
A knock on the window cuts you off. The two of you look up at the sound and find Nancy standing outside, waving and smiling. You hurry over to let her in, happy as always to see her. She’s been spending more and more nights at Jonathan’s, always sneaking in through the window.
It’s disgusting, and you couldn’t be happier for them.
Jonathan helps the girl climb through the window and greets her with a kiss to the forehead. “Hey, Nance.”
She smiles up at him with a shine in her eyes, and you know it’s time to leave. It’s getting late, anyways. You start to gather your banner supplies as you greet Nancy yourself. “Welcome back, Wheeler.”
“Hello to you too, Henderson.”
You wink at the girl and quickly ruffle Jonathan’s hair. “I’m going home, bee. My mom wants me to help prep Dustin’s room and I wanna have his banner done by tomorrow.”
“Bike home safe, please.” He says with a stern finger pointed at you.
Rolling your eyes, you give a mocking salute to Nancy and Jonathan. “Use protection, kids. I’m too young to be an aunt.”
Nancy gasps while Jonathan practically trips over his own two feet at your words, and you laugh. You leave them alone to compose themselves, closing the door to Jonathan shouting, “That wasn’t funny!”
You’re still giggling to yourself when you walk into the living room and see Joyce and Will sprawled on the couch. Their movie has just finished, the credits are rolling as you stand next to the TV and wave goodbye to them.
“You leaving so soon?” Joyce asks, surprised to even see you leave Jonathan’s room in the first place.
“Yeah, gotta finish up Dustin’s welcome home banner,” you hold up your supplies. Then, through the house’s thin walls, you all hear Nancy’s soft giggle. At the sound, you lean in close to Joyce and Will and dramatically whisper, “Plus, between the three of us, company came, so…”
Will’s eyes widen. “Yuck!”
Joyce chuckles, remembering how in love she was at Jonathan’s age back then. “Would I be a bad parent if I told Nancy she could just use the front door?”
“I don’t think so, but it’s fun watching them think they’re getting away with it.” You steal a piece of candy from the bowl Will had been eating out of, and he holds it up higher so that you can grab more. “Thanks, little bee.”
“You think it’s fun teasing Nancy and Jonathan now, Y/N, but when you’re the one sneaking in through a boy’s window one day…” Joyce shrugs, a twinkle in her eye. “You’ll understand.”
Will looks up at you with his own evil glint in his eyes, and before you can stop him, he turns to his mom and says, “I wonder how high Steve Harrington’s window is.”
You pretend to attack Will and he giggles as he flees his seat and runs to the other side of the living room. “Will Byers I will spit in your cookies–”
Joyce covers her mouth and gasps. “Y/N, are you hiding a boyfriend from me?”
Quickly you stop chasing after Will, terrified of the idea of the woman thinking you’d hide anything from her. “What? No! I’m not dating Steve–”
“Yet!” Will exclaims from across the room, but his retaliation is followed by a shriek as you chase after the kid again.
“If you keep this up, I’m telling Steve to stop letting y’all sneak into the movies!” You threaten as you chase the boy around the room.
Joyce watches in amusement, she’s never been able to take her eyes off of you when you’re with her boys. Will dodges a grab and you stumble, giving him just enough time to hide behind his mom’s armchair.
He pokes his head out at your threat, his eyes now uncertain. “You wouldn’t really tell Steve that, right?”
Catching your breath, you collapse onto the couch and shake your head at him. “No, little bee. I wouldn’t.”
You’d never do that to Will. He’s been so keen on spending as much time as possible with the party this summer, spending each and every moment planning DnD campaigns and biking all over Hawkins to spend mere seconds together. Will has spent all summer trying as hard as possible to be a kid again because so much of his childhood was stolen by Upside Down.
Will slowly gets up from behind the armchair and sits next to you, relieved. “Okay, good. We wanna see a movie tomorrow night and I already promised everyone you’d get Steve to let us in. That would’ve sucked.”
You and Joyce laugh at the boy’s response, and it feels so good to have this moment with the two of them. You allow it to wash over you for a second, the Byers home has always had such a comforting effect on you, before getting up and gathering your things once more. “I really should go, though. My mom is waiting.”
Joyce and Will say goodbye and tell you to be safe on your way home, and it warms something within you. As you bike down their driveway home, you inhale the summer night’s air and wonder, days before you turn seventeen, how much longer you have left of just this: being a little kid going home after a long day.
When you get home, Tews greets you with an angry meow.
The cat had been a Christmas gift for your mom from you and Dustin, seeing as how you accidentally killed Mews. Your mom had cried seeing the little kitten, and had cried even harder when your brother suggested the stupid name “Tews.”
But it stuck, and now Tews glares at you as you take your time feeding her.
In Dustin’s room you can hear your mom rustling around, frantically cleaning the place as if it currently isn’t the cleanest it’s ever been since the kid has been gone all month. After you feed Tews, you make your way over to your brother’s room to help with cleaning.
A few hours later, you’re laying in bed, exhausted from your long day. Dustin’s banner sits on your desk, right next to the phone that resides in the corner. Yawning, you glance at the clock, but when you see the time, you smile.
The phone rings.
“Right on time, honey.”
“Aren’t I always, angel?” Steve’s voice soothes your aching bones, his words like honey, the very thing you’ve come to associate with him.
Phone calls have become more and more common between you and Steve. You’re not sure when this tradition formed, but when you aren’t at Scoops and he isn’t at your house infiltrating your family, you’re on the phone with one another.
Hearing Steve’s voice puts you at ease, and it wasn’t long before you started calling each other before bed every night.
“How was your day?” You ask him, spinning the phone’s cable around your finger as you lay in bed.
Steve lets out a dramatic groan. “I swear, after you left today, Robin intentionally amped up her taunts. It’s like you’re her buffer or something. The second you leave,” you hear him snap his fingers, “she turns against me!”
“Robin would never do that.” Your voice is monotone as you say this, which only makes Steve groan dramatically once more. Robin would most definitely do that; you both know this.
“You two are the worst together.”
“Yeah, well,” you pull your blankets up to your chin and readjust into a comfier position. Your eyes feel heavy and Steve’s voice settles over your body. “Prepare for more pain tomorrow night. Will and the party have grand plans to sneak into yet another movie.”
Steve sighs. “Those kids are manipulating your power over me to get what they want.”
“You call it manipulation, I call it bonding.”
Another sigh escapes Steve. “You’re going to be the death of me.”
“And yet you stay.” You tease.
“And yet I stay.”
You bite back a smile; you can almost perfectly envision Steve laying in his own bed, phone pressed to his ear with his hair messy and eyes half lidded as he talks to you. You wish, more than anything, that you could be there with him right now; instead, you fall asleep to the sound of Steve’s voice, slightly raspy from his own exhaustion.
The next day you wake up to an empty house. Your mom has been spending her summer at Hawkin’s pool, like all the moms in town now do, to admire Billy at his new job.
It grosses you out to no end, and when your mom comes home some days swearing that Billy winked at her, you have to swallow down the phantom pain of his fingers wrapping around your windpipe.
By the time you get to work, Downtown Hawkins, as always, is a ghost town.
It’s been this way ever since Starcourt opened, and as you park your bike and lock it up, you can’t help but be unnerved by how quiet everything is. It was only a few years ago that you had to scream at a crowd of onlookers when Jonathan and Joyce had had that fight when they had found Will’s body in the quarry.
Now, walking slowly towards the front doors of Bookstrordinary, all you hear is silence in the once lively area. There are posters scattered throughout the old town, but they’re worn from the sunlight and torn from the weather. It’s a depressing sight.
Mrs. Waters greets you kindly when you walk in. “Hello, dear.”
“Hi, Mrs. Waters.” You give her a quick peck on the cheek as you quickly swipe your card to clock in. The bookstore is empty. “Any new shipments today?”
The old woman shakes her head forelonly. “Afraid not. We still haven’t sold last month’s shipment.”
You duck your head down and curse. This is the second shipment you weren’t able to sell. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Waters.”
“Oh, don’t be!” She walks over to you, her wrist shakes as she uses her cane. She has aged so much these last few years. “I’ve owned this store for thirty years, dear. I’m just happy that I can give you and Alex a job before you kids go off to college. Besides, it’s given me something to do these last few years without my husband…”
The woman’s eyes glaze over, something that has started to happen more and more now, and you grab her arm gently and give her a little shake. “Hey, Mrs. Waters. You still with me?”
She blinks, looks around in a confused daze, before breaking into her old smile once more. “Of course I am! Now, sort some books while I ward off those debt collectors with this cane.”
Despite the gravity of the situation, you can’t help but laugh at Mrs. Waters as she waves her cane around madly and gives you a wink. She hobbles back to her office and leaves you alone with the books and the ghost of Downtown Hawkins.
Only two customers come in during your four hour shift, and by midday Mrs. Waters releases you so that she can give Alex a few hours of work as well. She’s trying her best to keep you both hired for as long as she can, so she splits your hours. What she doesn’t know is that Alex now has a job at Hawkins’ pool and only comes into work because he just can’t bear to quit, and neither can you.
You bike to the mall, sad and needing a pick me up. Jonathan’s teasing from last night echoes in your head. How could you possibly think about your birthday when your boss is slowly losing both her mind and her business?
At the mall, your feet unconsciously take you to Scoops as they always do. This has become your favorite part of your dreary days: going to Scoops after work. The smell of ice cream greets you as you walk into the shop.
Robin sees you first and waves excitedly from the register. “Y/N!”
“It’s me!” You run up to the counter and lean over it to squeeze the girl into a tight hug.
There’s a loud crash from the backroom and just as you’ve pulled away from Robin, Steve bursts through the doors and leaps over the counter to join in on the hug. “Thank God you’re here, Robin was about to make me clean the tables.”
You giggle while Robin scoffs, pulling away. “It’s your turn, dingus.”
Steve, still hugging you from behind, hums. He begins to rock you back and forth in his arms, which only makes you giggle more, while he pretends to think about what the girl has said. “Nope, don’t remember it being my turn.”
Robin gives you a pleading look to back her up, and you reluctantly slide your arms over Steve’s and release his grip. He groans in complaint at the loss of your touch, and you roll your eyes at him as you turn around to now face him. “C’mon, let’s go wipe the tables so dear Robin can man the register in peace.”
Steve groans even louder now as Robin cheers, and you snatch the rag from his pocket and begin to wipe down the tables. He follows eventually, moaning and groaning as he cleans next to you, and you hit your hip against his. “Hey, at least you’re getting paid for this.”
“I give you free ice cream!” He argues, pieces of his hair falling out of his adorably dorky sailor’s hat that he has to wear for this job. It’s incredibly endearing, and as he hunches over to scrub at a particularly dirty table, his thighs strain against his probably too short shorts and you can’t help but stare at them. As you admire this spectacular show, Steve catches you and flicks your nose. “Quit ogling me and get back to your free labor, angel.”
“I wasn’t ogling, I was simply admiring.”
Robin gags from behind the register. “I can hear you guys, you know!”
You and Steve both stick your tongues out at her before going back to work.
The hours pass by quickly after that. The midday rush of tweens and teens alike infiltrate Scoops, so Steve helps Robin fling ice cream while you get comfortable in your designated booth in the corner. You’ve hidden a supply of comics underneath one of the booth’s cushions and you spend your time catching up on the latest Spider-Man arc.
You’re so engrossed in what you’re reading that you don’t notice a body slide into the booth next to you until the person speaks.
“Spider-Man, huh? Heard he’s a pretty cool guy.”
Startled by the stranger’s voice, you almost drop your comic in alarm. When you see that it’s just Jason Carver sitting next to you, you place a hand to your chest and inhale quickly, trying to settle your rapid heartbeat. “Christ, you scared me.”
“Sorry!” He genuinely looks apologetic, so you wearily set down your comic and straighten up.
You’ve never spoken to Jason before, even though you’ve been in the same classes ever since eighth grade. He’s always ran with the popular crowd, being a jock and all, and you’ve always ran with Jonathan. However, despite being on the basketball team, Jason has never been mean to either of you, so you figure it’s safe to offer him your attention.
“Can I ask why you’re here?” You cock your head at him, feeling your hair fall over your shoulders.
Jason smiles at you, in a sort of cute and charming way. “Stopped by to get my little sister some ice cream,” he points to a little girl next to him, who waves at you, and you wave back. “Then I saw you sitting here all alone reading one of my favorite comics, so I figured it wouldn’t hurt to say hi to such a pretty girl.”
You blush at his bold words. You’ve never received such attention from anyone before, at least not anyone normal thanks to Billy, and you’re not really sure why Jason seems to be paying attention to you now. He’s had years to do this.
Jason sees your sudden shyness and chuckles. He stands up and offers you his hand. “Why don’t I buy you some ice cream, maybe you could help me show my sister around the mall–” Steve’s shoulder collides roughly into the teen’s, causing him to stumble into his sister’s ice cream cone and get chocolate ice cream all over the front of his pants. Jason looks up at Steve and balls his fists in anger. “What the fuck, Harrington?”
You quickly cover the little girl’s ears, though she giggles.
Steve shrugs as he looks at Jason. “Sorry, man. Didn’t see you there.” Then, he turns to you, and offers his own hand. “Anyways, I think it’s time for your daily free ice cream, angel.”
Jason’s eyes narrow as you accept Steve’s hand and spare him an apologetic glance. Before you leave, you dig some cash out of your overalls and hand them to him. “For your sister’s new ice cream cone.”
He sighs and accepts the money. Jason knows that Steve is still holding your hand as he stands behind you, but he has nothing else to lose at this point. He takes a deep breath and shakes his head. “I didn’t stand a chance, did I?”
Steve twirls you with your interlocked hands, causing you to giggle, and guides you to the ice cream counter. As he leaves, shouts behind him, “Not at all, buddy!”
You know you should feel bad, but Steve twirls you again and all you can do is giggle breathlessly as Jason Carver walks out of Scoops with his sister in tow.
Later that night the mall is busier than ever, and as you’re gossiping with Robin about Steve ruining Jason’s pants, you’re interrupted by Mike’s grubby little hand repeatedly hitting the bell.
Seems it’s time for their movie.
You flick the kid’s head, which Lucas, Max, and Will snicker at. “Enough!”
“Ow, Y/N!”
“Thanks,” Robin sends you an appreciative smile before she calls towards the backroom, “Dingus, your children are here!”
Within seconds, Steve opens the sliding windows and sighs when he sees Mike and the party. “Again? Seriously?”
“I warned you.” You say, shrugging at his annoyance. “Let the kids have some fun.”
Mike rings the bell again. “Do what Y/N says.”
Steve sighs in defeat and motions for the kids to follow him behind the counter. “Fine, but only because I’m nice, not because Y/N said so.”
“Right.” Everyone says, not at all believing him, which Steve chooses to ignore.
You all follow him through the back entrance of the mall. Checking to make sure the coast is clear, Steve waves the kids inside. “I swear, if anybody hears about this–”
“We’re dead.” The kids all respond, voices monotone with annoyance after hearing this threat a million times.
However, before they all leave, Will gently tugs at your hand to get your attention. “Are you coming with?”
You want to say yes, but then you catch Steve’s eyes and he silently pleads with you to stay, and you know you can’t tell him no. Squeezing Will’s hand, you shake your head. “Sorry, little bee. I promise I will next time, though.”
Mike scoffs in disgust, disappointed in you. Your relationship with Steve has always confused him, and you’ve only gotten closer to the teen since Dustin left for camp. He pities what the boy will think when he comes back to his sister all lovey-dovey with an idiot like Steve Harrington.
Once the kids leave, you go back into Scoops with Steve and settle into your booth once more. Grabbing your comic, you flip to where you left off before looking up at the teen and saying, “you have me for another hour. I can’t be out late tonight, Dustin comes home tomorrow and I promised Mike I’d be up at like seven to let everyone in.”
Steve salutes you and hops back behind his counter to help Robin with some customers. You smile at his antics and go back to reading. A few minutes pass, Spider-Man has just kissed MJ, before the lights above you start to flicker and then go out completely.
Everyone in the mall gasps and murmurs in a slight panic as they’re thrown into darkness. The hair on your arms stands up; you no longer trust lights that flicker. Robin catches your eye and gives you an odd look when she sees the fear on your face.
“Scared of the dark, Y/N?” She teases, not understanding what you really fear: what lies below Hawkins.
“That’s weird,” Steve mumbles to himself as he goes over to the light switch. He starts to flip the switch repeatedly, and you roll your eyes at him. He’s an idiot sometimes.
“That isn’t gonna work, dingus.” Robin says, looking over at you once more as if to silently ask, why are you attracted to him?
You shake your head at her as Steve continues to flip the switch, now only quickening his movements. He stares Robin down as if to challenge her. “Oh, really?”
Nothing happens, because contrary to what Steve may believe, he can’t fix what is likely (and what you hope) is simply a blackout from the summer heat. He flicks the lightswitch a few more times before the generators kick back on and Scoops Ahoy is once again lit up.
Steve raises his eyebrows at Robin and smirks at her, pleased. “See? Let there be light.”
You drop your head to the table, now also questioning why you’re attracted to the guy.
However, when it’s time to head home and Steve walks with you to your bike outside, he kisses your cheek and wishes you a good night; you know that this is the reason you’ve fallen for him: his kindness. With his kiss lingering on your cheek, you bike home.
When Steve gets back from saying goodbye to you, he’s met with a nosey Robin.
She stands against the counter with her arms crossed. There aren’t any more customers in the shop, they closed about ten minutes ago, and Steve was really looking forward to driving home and taking off his stupid uniform.
Robin, however, clearly has other plans.
“What did I do now?” He asks her, not daring to take any step closer.
“Why haven’t you asked Y/N out yet?” Steve’s eyes widen at the question and Robin knows she’s got him cornered. “I’ve spent hours with you guys, and it’s driving me insane that you haven’t manned up!”
“‘Manned up’?” Steve sputters out, completely offended.
Robin throws her arms out in front of her. “Yes! I mean, it’s so obvious that you’re in love with her and that she’s in love with you. Just… Just get it over with!”
Blushing, Steve slumps against the wall and closes his eyes. As much as it pains him to admit it, he knows that Robin is right. “It’s… complicated.”
“Well, go on.” The girl now hops on the counter and sits on it. “Explain it to me, then.”
“Y/N used to be in love with…” Steve stops, unsure if you’d want him to be telling Robin this. “Someone.”
She rolls her eyes. “Everyone knows she was in love with that Byers kid.”
“Right.” He clears his throat, uncomfortable with the reminder that at one point, everyone in Hawkins truly believed you were destined for Jonathan. “Well as I’m sure you know… He got with Nancy, who–uh, I had been with.”
“Okay, so what?”
“I–” Steve isn’t sure what Robin doesn’t understand. “I needed… time?”
Robin frowns. “After Nancy dumped you?”
“Technically I dumped her–”
“What does this have to do with Y/N?” Robin presses.
Steve groans and rubs at his eyes. He’s tired and wants to go home to call you and go to bed with your soft voice in his head. “Y/N understood that the breakup with Nancy hurt, and–well. She told me she’d wait for me. I guess. While I figured my shit out.”
Robin thinks this over for a minute. “Okay, I think I can understand that, but–wait, when did this all happen again?”
“... December.” He closes his eyes, bracing himself for the girl’s inevitable anger.
“Harrington!”
There it is.
“I know, okay?” Steve tugs at his hair in frustration. “I’m over Nancy, I’ve been over her since at least April, but… But what–what if Y/N has lost interest in me now? What if–maybe I made her wait too long, or–or what if she thinks she’s just Nancy’s replacement?”
Steve is rambling now, months of his anxious and insecure thoughts now spilling out. “I mean, it’d kill me if–if I ever made her feel second to anyone! She’s… She’s incredible and–God, I don’t even know why she likes me and I’ve spent this entire summer trying to–I don’t know… Figure out how to confess my feelings to her in a way that matters, ya know? Like, a grand proposal to show her that I’m crazy about her.”
Robin is silent for several minutes after Steve’s frantic spiel, he’s panting by the time he’s done. Then, finally, she says, “Dude… You’re way overthinking this.”
Steve winces. “I mean, her birthday is in a few days. I can… I can ask her to be my girlfriend then. That’s romantic, right?”
“You’re hopeless.”
“Dusty comes home today!” Your mom’s shrill voice wakes you up as she prances around the house getting ready. You roll over in bed and stretch, tired but excited to see your brother again after a month of being apart.
You get out of bed and press a kiss to your mother’s cheek before telling her to drive safe. Glancing at the clock, you see that you have just enough time to shower before the party arrives. The entire thing had been Mike’s plan and you were more than happy to help arrange everything.
After you’ve gotten ready, you hear three swift knocks on your front door and you answer it. “Right on time, Wheeler.”
Mike salutes you as he and the others walk in. El gives you a hug and Max high fives you as the boys start setting up the robots. The six of you get started on the plan: place all the robots in Dustin’s room, all hidden in various corners, and then use El’s powers to control them and guide him to the living room so that you all can surprise him.
It’s a brilliant plan, one only a Wheeler could think of.
It takes you, Lucas, Mike, and Will to successfully hang up Dustin’s banner that took you all week to make. There’s cursing, yelling, a few trips, and multiple snickers from El and Max while the four of you struggle to hang the thing, but eventually you manage to secure the banner into place in the living room.
Just as you’ve finished hanging it up, you hear your mom’s car pull into the driveway and you quickly shove the kids into a closet. “Quick! That’s my mom’s car, hide!”
Lucas yelps and Max punches his shoulder to shut him up, but thankfully you manage to close the closet door just in time before Dustin walks in. You hide behind the couch, quiet so as not to be seen by him, and carefully listen for his footsteps to retreat down the hall and into his room.
Once he’s gone, you scramble towards the closet and open the door. “Okay, he’s in his room, time for step two.”
“Did we all really have to hide in the closet?” Will asks, rubbing at his shoulder that had been shoved into a hanger.
“Yes, now shush and hide behind the wall so he doesn’t see you.” You order, and the kids all listen. Once you’re all pressed against the wall, you nod at El. “Ready?”
“Ready.” She responds, closing her eyes. Static fills the air and you hear one of the robots turn on in Dustin’s room. Then the other one turns on, then the monkey, and soon all the toys have been activated by El’s powers.
Mike pokes his head around the corner. “Okay, now start leading the robots here.”
Blood slowly begins to drip from El’s nose and you feel bad that she’s doing this, but the kids all look excited, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little giddy yourself. The noise from the robots grows louder as El draws them out from the room and towards you guys.
You hear Dustin’s uncertain voice following behind them. “It’s just a dream… You’re dreaming.”
Then Mike whispers to El, “Now!”
The robots all die in the center of your living room and slowly everyone starts to creep out from behind the wall. Lucas is holding his own poster he made and you hand everyone party noisemakers. Dustin is investigating the robots and doesn’t hear you stalk up behind him. Max silently counts to three, and on her signal, you all blow your party noisemakers and surprise him.
Dustin screams and immediately holds up his Farrah Fawcett spray, blinding Lucas as he continuously sprays it. The poor boy screams as well and the rest of the kids back away, out of the line of fire. However, as soon as your momentary shock wears off, you manage to snatch the hairspray out of your brother’s hand and save Lucas.
“Why is Farrah Fawcett your weapon of choice?” You exclaim, shoving a still screaming Lucas towards your kitchen so that you flush the spray out of his eyes. Max joins, rubbing soothing circles into the boy’s back.
“Why would you scare me like that after the hell we went through this year?” Dustin shouts back at you, clutching at his chest.
Dustin’s words make you stop for a moment and think. Huh. He has a point. “Yeah, we should’ve thought about that, honestly.”
“A little help here?” Lucas brings the attention back to him and you apologize, helping him once more to flush his eyes out. As you and Max tend to him, Dustin tells the others to follow him to his room so he can show them what he built at camp.
Max splashes some more water in Lucas’ eyes. “Better?”
The boy stands up and wipes his face, though he’s careful not to touch his eyes. “Still stings.”
“I feel like I should call someone…” You mumble, Your first aid knowledge doesn’t include Farrah Fawcett in the eyes.
Lucas blinks a few times and looks around. He leans in closer to Max’s face and for a moment you’re scared he’ll kiss her, but instead he chooses to be an idiot. “Is that a new zit?”
You wince and Max’s eyes widen in disbelief. She looks at you and you both seem to come to the same agreement: grabbing the back of Lucas’ neck, the two of you shove his face back into the water. “What is wrong with you?”
Lucas screams again and you leave Max to deal with him, laughing to yourself as you go see whatever creation your brother has brought home. You love Lucas, you do, but you have no idea how Max puts up with his boyish antics.
Inside Dustin’s room, you find him and the others hunched over a collection of wires and metal pieces. You walk in and join them.
“I would like you to meet Cerebro.” Dustin presents his creation, but you honestly have no idea what it’s supposed to be.
You squint at it. “It’s… Pretty?”
“What exactly are we looking at here?” Mike asks, unimpressed.
“An unassembled, one-of-a-kind, battery powered radio tower!” Dustin explains with a proud smile on his face.
A beat of silence passes before Will carefully asks, “So… It’s a ham radio?”
Dustin’s excitement only grows. “The Cadillac of radios.”
“Still not understanding, buddy.” You now voice, usually always lost when it comes to the more AV stuff the party likes.
“This baby carries a crystal-clear connection over vast differences.” Your brother clarifies for you, and you nod along. “I’m talking North Pole to South. I can talk to my girlfriend whenever and wherever I choose.”
You, Mike, El, and Will all look at each other in shock at the word that has just left Dustin’s mouth. “Girlfriend?”
Your brother nods, looking all smug, and you immediately berate him with a million questions. “What’s her name, where is she from, how long have you been dating. Tell me everything, now!”
“Relax, dear sister. Her name is Suzie, and I’ll explain in a second. We can even talk to her if you guys help me set Cerebro up on Weathertop hill.”
You’re the first to start grabbing all the supplies, giddy and eager to hear more about your baby brother’s girlfriend. It’s almost too good to be true. Mike, Will, and El follow along and soon you’re all holding materials for Cerebro as you follow Dustin out of the house.
As you all leave, Mike starts asking questions again. “Wait, so her name is Suzie?”
Dustin nods. “Suzie, with a ‘z’. She’s from Utah.”
“People from Utah actually exist?” You ask, which the others laugh at.
“Girls go to science camp?” Will asks.
You give him a stern look. “Anyone can go to science camp, Will.”
“What Y/N said,” Dustin continues explaining his girlfriend. “And Suzie does, she’s a genius.”
“Is she cute?” Mike can’t believe what he’s hearing.
“Think Phoebe Cates, only better.”
You re-adjust one of the poles for Cerebro in your arms. “Can we focus on her being smart instead? I think she sounds lovely.”
From the kitchen, Max sees the four of you open the front door as she helps Lucas with his eyes. “What’s going on?”
“We’re going to talk to Dustin’s girlfriend.” Will informs them.
Lucas whips his head up from the sink as he and Max exclaim, “Girlfriend?”
“I know, right?” You say, motioning them to follow.
“Alrighty, one scoop of chocolate. That’s a buck twenty-five.” Steve hands the ice cream cone to the girl he’s currently serving. She’s pretty enough, and when he notices her Purdue shirt, he can’t help but say something about it. “Ooh, Purdue! Fancy.”
The girl smiles and hands Steve her change. “Yeah, I’m excited.”
“Yeah, you know… I–I considered it. Purdue.” He types the code into the register and places the change inside. “But then I was like, you know what? I really think I need some real life experience, you know, before I hit college. See what it’s like.”
The girl and the friend she’s with exchange weird glances, and Steve knows he’s rambling like an idiot. “Uh, what I mean is… You’re girls, right? How would the two of you like to be asked out by a guy?”
“I’m sorry?” Purdue girl asks, looking at her friend, creeped out.
The cash register begins to beep at him and Steve hits it a few times to shut it up. “Sorry, uh… Anyways, say you’ve seen this guy every day for like, months, and feelings are shared, you know, as they are. Then time passes and the guy never makes the move because he’s, well, he’s an idiot–”
“Yeah, totally.” Purdue girl interrupts him and her friend giggles.
“Exactly, so… This was, like, so fun. This little chat. Anyways, what do you think? How would you want the guy to ask you out?” Steve puts on his most charming smile, hoping that the girls will say that maybe he isn’t crazy for waiting so long to ask you out. As he hands them their change, he drops part of it. “Oh, sorry about that. Uh…”
“Yeah, we wouldn’t wanna be asked out.” Purdue girl says as her friend snorts.
“Sure, but I mean, it’s complicated, you know? And–”
Purdue girl interrupts him once more. “No, I’m sorry, but it sounds like you missed your chance and you’re like, really weird.”
“But the guy isn’t me!” Steve shouts as the two girls leave, only embarrassing himself even more. He sighs, closes his eyes, and wonders how he got here.
“And another one bites the dust.” Robin announces from behind him. He turns around and watches as she marks another tally underneath the you suck column of her whiteboard. Next to it is the column you rule, which currently has zero marks. “You are oh-for-six, Popeye.”
Steve crosses his arms. “Yeah, I can count.”
“You know that means you suck and that Y/N isn’t the problem here, you are, right?”
“Yup, I can read, too.” Steve swallows down his annoyance, he knows he’s only done this to himself.
“Since when?”
“It’s this stupid hat,” Steve complains, as if this is the only appropriate answer. “I’m telling you, it’s making everyone think I’m some pathetic guy who can’t ask a girl out.”
Robin leans against the window. “Yeah, company policy is the reason that you’re an idiot for not asking out Y/N.” She thinks for a moment and tries to offer the teen some advice. “Ya know, it’s a crazy idea, but have you considered telling the truth?”
“What? That I’m hopelessly in love with her? Sure, I’m such a catch who couldn’t even get into Tech and whose douchebag dad is trying to teach a lesson, now making three bucks an hour with no future.” Steve laughs at himself. “A catch who, by the way, could’ve been hers back in December had he not been a complete moron? What a great truth.”
Robin frowns, now feeling bad for making him feel this way. While she doesn’t understand everything, she gets that Steve has had a difficult few months. Taking pity on him, she points out some girls approaching and tries to lighten his mood. “Hey, twelve o’clock! Maybe they’ll see your side of things.”
Steve turns around and sees the girls as well. “Shit, okay. Okay, I can do this! I’m going in.” He quickly snatches the sailor hat from his head and tosses it to Robin. “Screw company policy, I’m getting advice about Y/N one way or another.”
For a second, Robin has hope for him, but then he opens his Scoops Ahoy greeting way too loud and then immediately starts to ramble about you, and she sighs in defeat and marks another tally underneath the you suck column.
Hiking up a giant, grassy hill in ninety degree heat while hauling heavy equipment for a giant radio that your brother built to talk to his alleged long distance girlfriend definitely wasn’t what you had in mind today. In fact, you mourn the fact that you aren’t working today.
You’re only here to hear about Dustin’s girlfriend, honestly.
“Aren’t we high enough?” Lucas pants, voicing what everyone else is thinking.
Dustin shakes his head. “Cerebro works best at a hundred meters.”
“You know, I’m pretty sure people in Utah have telephones.” Max quips.
You wipe sweat from your brow and cringe, you feel disgusting. “Max, you’ve always been so wise.”
“Suzie’s Mormon.” Says Dustin, and you almost trip over a rock.
“You’re dating a Mormon?”
Lucas talks over you. “Oh, shit. She doesn’t have electricity?”
“Oh, that’s the Amish.” Max corrects him, and you get flashbacks to when you had to correct Steve about Nazis and Germans.
Will frowns at you. “What are Mormons?”
“Scary people–”
Dustin interrupts you. “Super religious white people. They have electricity and cars and stuff, but… Since I’m not Mormon, her parents would never approve.”
“Please don’t become Mormon,” you beg, dripping even more sweat. “I need someone sane in our family.”
“I won’t,” Dustin reassures you, though he has a far off look in his eyes. “But it’s all a bit Shakespearean, don’t you think?”
“Shakespearean?” Max laughs and you also can’t help but giggle.
Dustin doesn’t let your teasing deter him from reminiscing, though. “Yeah, like Romeo and Juliet.”
“They both die, Dustin.” It’s important to you that he knows this.
“But they were also star crossed lovers.”
“Who killed themselves.”
Below, Mike shouts to the rest of you, “Hey, guys!”
You all turn and you frown when you see just how far he and El are, both of them empty handed and dry as a daisy in the summer heat. When Mike sees that he has all of your attention, he taps at his watch. “This is fun and all, but, uh…”
“I have to go home.” El announces, her arm intertwined through Mike’s.
Dustin points towards the top of the hill no less than a few yards away. “We’re almost there.”
“Sorry, man. Curfew.” Mike shrugs, he isn’t really sorry and you all know it. He then grabs El’s hand and they descend down the hill, giggling and enamored with one another.
With a gleeful laugh, El says goodbye. “Good luck!”
Dustin looks down at his watch. “Curfew at four?”
You’re startled by the time, having assumed it was at least closer to six. Hopper may be an overprotective grump of a man, but not even he is crazy enough to enact a curfew for El at four in the afternoon. “That… Doesn’t sound real.”
“They’re lying.” Lucas explains, frustrated.
“It’s been like this all summer.” Will says bitterly, something that you take note of.
Max nudges you with her shoulder. “I think it’s romantic.”
“It’s gross!” Will voices again.
You bite your lip. “I don’t know, it’s your guys’ last summer before high school and…”
“It’s bullshit.” Dustin finishes for you, hurt in his voice. “I just got home.”
You flick him. “Language! But… I agree.”
Dustin watches with annoyance as Mike and El walk down the hill hand in hand. While he’s incredibly hurt that they’ve ditched him after being gone for a month, he remembers what Steve has taught him. People can suck, but there’s nothing he can do about it. “Well, their loss, right? Onwards and upwards, Suzie awaits!”
Max and Lucas groan at the idea of continuing the hike while you admire your brother’s perseverance. You’re proud of him for not letting Mike and El ruin his plans with the others. He’s excited to be home, and you’re more than happy to go along with whatever schemes he has planned.
You’re about to follow the others up the hill when you realize that Will hasn’t joined. You turn around and see that he has his hand around the back of his neck as he stands there, frozen. Then, he turns and faces Hawkins, stumbling back a bit as he does so, and you watch with a frown on your face.
“Hey, little bee, are you okay?” You gently place a hand on his shoulder, which seems to break him of whatever spell he’d been under.
“I’m fine,” he lies, and you don’t at all believe him. Will looks uneasy, as if he’s just seen a ghost. A part of you begins to worry, but you don’t push him. For all you know, it could be about Mike and his growing distance from the others.
“Well, c’mon, then.” You grab Will’s hand and together you ascend the rest of the hill.
At the top, Dustin drops his bag and sighs. “Made it!”
“Yeah, only took five hours,” Max pants out, stumbling the final few steps up the hill.
You collapse onto the ground and fight to catch your breath. “I run almost every morning. I think I lost a lung back there.”
“Why couldn’t we just play DnD?” Will collapses next to you.
Lucas grabs the flask of water, and as you struggle to get air into your lungs, you watch as he chugs the remaining water without a care in the world. Max watches as well, annoyed, and once again you pity Lucas. He’s such a boy.
Building the radio takes longer than expected. After your short five minute break, Dusin puts you all to work. There’s a million pieces to the thing and your fingers ache from screwing bolts into slots and extending poles. The sun has begun to set when you finally push the giant radio into an upright position. It’s easily fifteen feet high, and it’s an impressive sight that you can’t deny.
“Not bad, Dustin.” You admit, walking around Cerebro in awe.
“Ready to meet my love?” He asks everyone, and you all sit down next to him and eagerly await. Dustin switches the radio on. “Suzie, this is Dustin. Do you copy? Over.”
No one answers. All you hear is radio feedback.
Dustin scratches his nose nervously. “One sec. She’s probably… She’s still there.” Again, no one answers, and he ducks his head down in embarrassment. “Suzie… This is Dustin, do you copy? Over.”
More radio static follows in the absence of Suzie’s response.
You wince, despite trying to appear supportive. You can’t help it, this is embarrassing for your brother. While you don’t doubt that he has a girlfriend, you admit that this doesn’t look good for him. A long distance girlfriend who is hot and smart and magically needs a radio to communicate with? Unlikely.
“I’m sure she’s there,” Dustin tries to explain to you guys, now even more embarrassed. “It’s dinner time, and she’s busy…”
“Yeah, sure.” Lucas tries to be supportive and play along, which you appreciate him immensely for. Max nods as well, but Will just stands there silent.
“Maybe try again?” You encourage, trying to be nice.
Dustin nods and tries once more to contact Suzie, and it goes on like this for a while. He radios, no one answers, and eventually you and everyone else lay down in the grass as you wait for nothing.
Almost an hour passes and the crickets begin to chirp as the sun goes down and the moon comes up. Dustin is still trying to reach Suzie, but Max finally has enough. “Dustin, come on! She’s not there.”
“She’s there, alright? She’ll pick up.”
“Dustin…” You sigh, unsure how to tell him that you also want to leave. You had plans with Steve tonight, he invited you over to watch a movie and you should’ve left ten minutes ago.
Will lifts his head up from the grass. “Maybe Cerebro doesn’t work.”
“Or maybe Suzie doesn’t exist.” Lucas argues.
Dustin gasps. “She exists!”
“She’s a genius and she’s hotter than Phoebe Cates? No girl is that perfect.”
You pinch the bridge of your nose at Lucas’ words and wait for Max’s inevitable offense. He truly, deeply, is such a boy. As predicted, Max sits up and looks down at him with annoyance. “Is that so?”
Lucas shuffles up in panic, now realizing too late what he’s said. ��I mean–you’re perfect! I mean, like, perfect–in your own way, in your own, uh, special way!”
“Lucas,” you hit his shoulder. “Stop talking, dude.”
Max laughs, pleased with herself. “Relax, I was teasing. I’m obviously perfect and Dustin is obviously lying.”
“Okay, no,” you now sit up. “He isn’t lying, it’s just a very unfortunate circumstance.”
Max doesn’t listen and instead offers Lucas her hand to help him up so that they can leave. “Come on, Don Juan.”
“Where are you going?” Dustin follows, not understanding yet what’s happening.
“Home,” Max huffs, before remembering that you’re there, too. “Bye, Y/N!”
“Bye,” you wave at them weakly, knowing that this will only upset your brother further as she and Lucas slowly head home.
Dustin stands next to you now. “Well, guess it’s just us and Byers, Y/N,”
Will now stands up and awkwardly avoids your brother’s gaze. “Um… It’s late. Sorry. Maybe tomorrow we can play DnD, or something fun, like we used to?”
Dustin clenches his jaw. You know he’s close to tears, and it breaks your heart to watch. You stand up and rest your arm around him as he responds to Will. “Yeah, sure.”
“Welcome home,” Will says sadly before he starts to walk down the hill as well.
You anxiously watch as he leaves. “Be careful, please!”
“I will!” He reassures you, knowing that you’re still terrified of losing him again.
As you watch Will, Dustin whispers to himself, “Yeah, welcome home.”
His words break your heart even more. Forgetting about your anxiety over Will, you wrap both arms around your brother and hug him. He had been so excited earlier to be home and see all his friends after a month of being away. You understand that the kids are all growing up, but you had always hoped that they’d grow together, not apart.
“You still have all of July and August,” you try to comfort Dustin, desperately hoping that you aren’t lying to both him and yourself. “I’m sure they’ll come around.”
Suddenly the radio attached to Cerebro switches on and Dustin pushes you off of him so that he can get to the radio in time. He stumbles over his feet and trips, and you watch with amusement and curiosity.
He manages to finally untangle himself from the radio and answers. “Suzie, Suzie, is that you?”
You sit down next to Dustin and lean in close to the radio, excited to finally meet your brother’s girlfriend. Instead, you hear what sounds like a foreign language. It’s distinct, slightly muffled, but you know what it is. “Is that…”
“Russian.” Dustin whispers.
Everything changes, then.
You force Dustin to go home immediately. He wants to stay, see if he can find any more hidden messages, but you refuse. He’s elated, talking a mile a minute as you bike home, theorizing every possible answer as to why you heard Russian in Hawkins, Indiana.
“Dustin!” You yell at him, terrified that someone could be listening. “Not here, okay?”
He deflates, but pedals home alongside you.
You’re terrified as you bike home, a million thoughts are running through your head. You don’t at all like what any of this could mean; you’ve had enough sketchy government facilities and secret government agencies to last you a fucking lifetime.
When you get home, you order Dustin to go to bed.
“But Y/N, we’ve got to tell someone about this–”
“Tomorrow, okay? Just, please, Dustin.” You’re exhausted and confused and overwhelmed.
Your brother senses that you’re at your limit and reluctantly backs down. “Fine, but can we at least tell Steve tomorrow?”
Hearing Steve’s name puts something at ease within you. Tomorrow, you’ll go to Scoops with Dustin and ask Steve what he thinks about all of this. Comforted by the fact that you now have a plan forming, you begin to calm down. “I promise we’ll tell him tomorrow, okay?”
Dustin nods and heads to his room, wishing you a good night. When you hear his door click shut, you slowly head to your own room. You’re terrified, and there’s only one thing you want to do to lessen the fear that scratches at your throat. After crawling into bed, you call Steve.
He answers immediately. “Y/N? Is everything okay?”
“I’m fine,” you breathe out, his voice like an exhale of a summer’s day. “I… I’m sorry I missed our movie night.”
Steve laughs softly. “Angel, I’m just happy you’re okay. I was getting worried there.”
You close your eyes. “It’s been a weird day.”
“Did something happen?” Steve senses that there’s something you aren’t telling him, which worries him.
“Dustin… He may have found something, but I just–I don’t want to talk about it just yet. I… I don’t want to jinx it,” you squeeze your eyes tight and will away the fear you feel. “I–I’m just, I’m so exhausted, you know?”
“Y/N, are you in danger–”
“No,” you dispel any fear that Steve may feel. “I promise I’m okay, I just really need to hear your voice right now, okay? Can you just talk to me, please?”
“Of course I can.” Steve agrees without any questions asked, and you love how he trusts you enough to do this.
Exhaling the remaining fear, you allow the warmth from Steve to hold you through the night. “Thank you, honey.”
“Anytime, angel. You know that.”
And you do.
Steve begins telling you a story from today, how he dropped an ice cream cone on a toddler and enraged the mom, and you fall asleep that night to the sound of his voice over the phone.
-
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moonstruckme · 8 months
Note
not sure if you’re taking requests buttttt poly!marauders but they’re kinda overprotective bfs and she sneaks out to go to a party with marlene or her girlfriends but they find out and show up at the party 💞
Hi don't worry, I am! I think it should show on the requests page linked in my pinned post, but please let me know if it doesn't, I'm still figuring tumblr out and often mess up! I hope this is alright honey, I tried to go for the angst but honestly the more I write the more suspicious I become of my inability to write our boys being anything other than soft with reader! I'll try to work on it but in the meantime I hope you enjoy this <33
cw: mention of concussion symptoms, including nausea, nothing intense or even very descriptive though
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 906 words
You’re aware that the internet had said you were supposed to avoid bright lights, loud sounds, and movement when Remus had looked it up after an unfortunate fall that morning. Just like you’re aware that when your boyfriends left you at your apartment a few hours ago, they’d been trusting you to follow those instructions. But you’re also aware that the internet had led you all to believe your concussion was mild, and that Marlene only has one birthday a year. Damned if you were going to miss it. 
So yeah, you feel a bit queasy as your eyes struggle to track the movement and voices around you, but that’s nothing compared to the contentment of being with your friends. Lily has assigned herself the role of your caretaker, checking that you’re alright every few minutes and shushing anyone who raises their voice too loud around you, and Marlene has attached herself to your side, telling you how much she appreciates you in between beer-scented hiccups. 
“And you’re so nice to come tonight,” she’s saying now, brushing her fingers clumsily but sweetly through your hair. “I can’t tell you how much—uh oh.” 
You have a premonition of ill fate even before the hair on the back of your neck stands up, and you follow Marelene’s unfocused gaze to the curly-haired boy coming towards you.
“Happy birthday, Marls,” he says, his smile only appearing slightly strained, before he turns to you. “Hey, sweetheart. Let’s go home, yeah?”
“Jamie,” you say quietly, and Lily and Marlene leave the couch to give you as much privacy as a party allows. “What are you doing here?”
“Everyone here’s been posting, and you’re in the background of half the pictures.” His smile slips as he crouches in front of you, disappointment in his eyes. “You know you’re supposed to be resting,” he says softly. “C’mon, let’s go.” 
You’re glad that he’s here instead of Remus or Sirius, who surely wouldn’t be as careful about not embarrassing you. James is less stern than the others, and though you feel a bit guilty for doing so, you press that to your advantage. 
“I haven’t drank anything but water,” you say. “That’s gotta count for something, right? And look.” You brush your hair behind your ear, showing him the earplugs you’d put in before arriving. “I’m being careful, see? I’m alright, Jamie, and it’s Marlene’s birthday. Let’s just stay, both of us, okay?”
James looks nearly apologetic. “Remus and Sirius are waiting in the car.” 
You groan, but allow James to pull you to your feet, waving goodbye to your friends with a pout. He supports more of your weight than you really need him to as he walks you outside, where Remus sits in the drivers’ seat of the idling car. Dread settles, along with dull resignation, in your stomach. 
Sirius is in the backseat and you hope James will get in first, but he lifts you in before him, placing you between two of your three upset boyfriends. You can’t look at any of them, allowing James to buckle your seatbelt for you as an oppressive silence, worse than the bass that had brutalized your head inside Marlene’s, stretches out between you. 
True to form, Sirius is the first to breach it. 
“What the hell were you thinking?”
You sigh. “I’m sorry.” 
“You have a concussion! All you had to do was stay home and rest. That website said that lights and loud music—say, the sort of things you’d find at a party—would only make things worse.” 
Normally, you’d argue with him. No matter how hopeless it seems, no matter how obvious it is that Sirius is going to win, you can always meet him head-on and at least make your point. But tonight, with your head throbbing and something about your very being feeling fundamentally wrong, you can’t muster up the energy. 
“I know,” you say. 
Sirius goes silent at the acquiescence in your voice, and he looks at Remus in the rear-view mirror, unsure of how to proceed. James puts a hand on your knee, a tiny gesture of comfort even though he’s upset with you too. The motivation that had driven you to Marlene’s and through the party is wearing off, and you feel suddenly, embarrassingly teary. 
“Do you feel sick?” Remus speaks for the first time, and though his voice is calm, the absence of his usual terms of endearment leave no doubt that you’re still in trouble. 
You clear your throat of the tears that are trying to clog it. “A little.” 
“We’re bringing you to our place to rest.” It’s not a question. “We can go get some things from your place tomorrow, but tonight you can just wear our stuff. Think you can eat something before bed?” 
It’s worse that he’s being kind to you. You’d been prepared for a lecture, but being taken care of is worse. It brings the vulnerability you’ve felt since the frightening pain and dizziness of that morning to the surface, and you keep your face turned towards your lap as your eyes become wet. “Yeah, I think so,” you say, and your voice cracks slightly when you add, “I’m sorry.” 
Sirius makes a sympathetic, pained sound from beside you, and James abandons all pretense of anger, tucking your head under his chin. 
“We’ll talk about it later,” Remus says, a bit more gently. “For now, just try to relax.” 
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sheisjoeschateau · 2 months
Text
"Oh, so we DO love Steve..." | PART I
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Steve Harrington x Bauman!fem!reader enemies to lovers, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, upside down mayhem, S2-S4, post S4 universe hot-take, end-of-the-world / dystopian setting, ugly fights turned smut (...but with hella plot). 18+
WHEN THE UNEXPECTED NIECE OF MURRAY BAUMAN GETS THROWN IN THE MIX, THE GANG HAS NO IDEA JUST WHAT THEY'RE IN FOR. SCRATCH THAT - STEVE DOESN'T KNOW. YOU GET ALONG WITH EVERYONE WELL. YOU BANTER WITH THE ADULTS, WHO APPRECIATE YOUR HELP. THE KIDS LOVE AND WORSHIP YOU. YOU'RE HELPFUL ALL AROUND. BUT AS FAR AS STEVE IS CONCERNED, YOU'RE JUST NUISANCE. AFTER ALL, YOU'RE THE REASON HE LOST THE LOVE OF HIS LIFE AND MISSED OUT ON A LIFE THAT "COULD'VE BEEN." IF YOU HAD JUST KEPT YOUR SORRY ASS OUT OF THE PICTURE... IF YOU HAD NEVER GONE WITH NANCY AND JONATHAN AFTER THEY LEFT YOUR WHACK-JOB UNCLE, MURRAY BAUMAN'S, BUNKER? HE WOULD BE HAPPY. SO F*CKING HAPPY. BUT HERE YOU WERE. YOU WERE BASICALLY THE COOLER (...AND SURE, MUCH MORE ATTRACTIVE) FEMALE VERSION OF MURRAY BAUMAN. YOU WERE SARCASTIC, QUICK-WITTED, TOO SMART FOR YOUR OWN GOOD, AND APPARENTLY BUILT FOR THE WAR. SURE, YOU WEREN'T AS BRASH AS YOUR UNCLE. BUT IN STEVE'S EYES, YOU WERE SOMEHOW FAR MORE OBNOXIOUS. HE DOWNRIGHT HATED YOU. HE WILL FOREVER HATE YOU... BUT WILL HE?
DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORK TO BE COPIED AND/OR REPOSTED ON HERE OR ANY OTHER PLATFORM, OR PUT INTO ANY AI PROGRAMS. THIS IS AN 18+ BLOG, MDNI.
An original fanfiction series, written by Misha St. James.
⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ SERIES MASTERLIST ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆
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I did not proof-read this after Tumblr gave me hell trying to share. So pls excuse possible typos. hehe
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Let's just get to the point, shall we?
Once upon a time, a young boy named Will Byers went missing. Later, he was found in an alternate dimension by the world's #1 mom and a cynical cop turned hero. A girl with a shaved head had telekinetic superpowers, befriend's Will's four loyal friends along the way and helping them track down their missing party member. Then, whatever the hell was on the other side - whatever was in this...upside down...took back Eleven. She'd been missing ever since that dreadful winter.
Fast forward to now: you're sitting in your uncle's bunker, looking at his wild display of efforts.  Papers, files, whiteboards covered in multiple words, arrows, sketches - all in different colored markers. Murray Bauman was on a mission, and he would be damned if that grumpy, cynical smart-ass known as Jim Hopper honestly thought that he could dismantle his efforts.  Nice try, chum. Game on. Thankfully, you'd gone to school with Barbara Holland. That's whose parents had assigned the task of searching for her to your uncle. Murray was asking you tons of questions, and you were glad to help. It meant spending time with the only family member you cared for, despite his wackiness. You guys got each other. Bantered well. Got shit done. Honestly, it was also a great way of drinking safely and not with a bunch of rowdy teenagers at some stupid party. You got along just fine with everyone at school. But damn, they could all be annoying.  ...especially Steve fucking Harrington, who was now the topic of conversation. You know, given that his house is where Barbara was last seen. "It just isn't making sense," your uncle huffed, raking his hands through his oily dark hair.  You sipped on the glass of vodka that your uncle had poured you, hissing at the strong taste. Leaning across the coffee table, seated on his couch, you tried to connect the dots with him. "I'm telling you, someone in that group of teens knows what's up. Or at least has an idea." Your uncle swigged at his vodka, defeated but ruthlessly trying to piece together his clusterfuck of scattered evidence across his wall. "Well then, guess we better grill 'em."
And that's how you come into the picture. When Nancy and Jonathan came to seek out Murray. And when they arrive, they're surprised to see you. They recognize you from school. Jonathan took several classes with you. In fact, the two of you got along well at Hawkins High. No, you weren't close. But you both were cool. Nancy, on the other hand, didn't know anything about you. Just that you took political science with Barbara, and got straight A's across the board. You could've been class valedictorian. But you were not looking for any sort of title that demanded pressure or attention. At least not in high school. Career wise? Sure. Not here, though. Not Hawkins. "Your timeline is wrong," Nancy is saying, making you and Bauman freeze.  Nancy is telling you that the girl with the buzzed hair is not Russian. She is, in fact, from Hawkins lab. And her name is...Eleven? So they do know something. And something turns out to be everything.
Jonathan sits you both down to relay everything to you both. And woof, does it give you guys a headache. Strangely, though... it makes a whole lot more sense than some mundane explanation of sorts. Obviously though, that puts you all in a tough spot where you'll all need to put your heads together. So the two classmates of yours stay, sharing in chilled Smirnoff and having to endure the hilarity that ensues between you and your uncle. You and Murray both banter well with the two of them. Jonathan finds you to be hilarious. Nancy finds you intimidating. Very intimidating. You’re quick witted, darkly humored and independent. But there is a reserved, mysterious sort of feminine energy to you, despite your more masculine strengths and bluntness. Over glasses of stiff vodka, you all come to the conclusion on how to go about exposing the truth about Barbara Holland's disappearance: water it down.
At the end of the night, you're all winding down -- you and your uncle having convinced the two lovebirds to stay. But when you're telling them they can take your uncle's guest room while you take the couch, Jonathan's asking if he can take the couch. You blink. Huh? ...surely Nancy is not still with --
"Okay, I'm confused," your uncle's saying. "What's going on here? Lovers quarrel?"
You cock an eyebrow, leaning back into the loveseat.
But Jonathan and Nancy are then talking over each other with weird, flustered excuses...saying they're just friends.
You and your uncle bust out laughing. And then you're shrinking back in your seat, knowing what's coming: one of your Uncle Murray's lovebird witchdoctor speeches that he barrels into anytime that two delusional people have convinced themselves that they aren't in love. Or at the very least, not into each other. 
Uncle Murray is breaking them down, one at a time. He's reading Jonathan like an angsty teen novel, seeing right through him and his brooding, mysterious energy.  Trust issues, thanks to daddy issues. Yikes, that makes you sip some more drink.
And then he's onto Nancy, saying that she's harder to read. But he manages anyway.  It's the Bauman way.
He's telling her that she's likely like everyone else, "afraid of what would happen if you accepted yourself for you who you really are." He looks at you. "Am I in the right ballpark?"
You nod, swallowing the last drop of vodka in your cup. "That...and afraid of that might happen if she didn't retreat back to the safety of someone familiar."
Nancy looks bewildered. But more than that, she looks caught. 
"Name?" your uncle is prodding, snapping his fingers.  "Name."
You and Jonathan both say it. "Steve."
Uncle Murray's face is priceless. He feigns adoration, putting on a baby voice as he repeats the name. "Dawh. Steve. We like Steve."
"Yes," Nancy laughs nervously.  Eek, you think.
"But we don't love Steve..." Your uncle's words floor Nancy.
And when Nancy's saying something about still being with Steve, insisting that she loves him, you roll your eyes. Even scoffing, getting her attention. Maybe if the vodka weren't in your system, you wouldn't be so bold. But Jonathan's mopey look just gives you more confidence.
"Boom, ladies and gents," you say with a grin. "Second lie of the evening." "The hell was the first one?" Jonathan asks, blinking. "You guys being just friends." You and your uncle say something along the same lines, simultaneously. You both laugh together, clinking glasses. The two not lovebirds just squirm awkwardly in their seats. Finally, you sigh. "Look. You guys don't wanna give up the ghost? Be my guest. I'll happily keep my bed." You stand up, ready to turn in. But not until casting them one last work, pointing a finger. "But if I were you two? I'd cut the bullshit and just share the damn bed." Murray snorts, rising to stand as well. He stretches. "Welllllp. I'm turning in for the night." You begin mounting the stairs, hollering: "Better act fast, kiddos. At least before this poison in my system knocks me out cold. Don't worry, Nancy, I don't snore. So if you do choose me, you're safe." "But that's so lame," Murray adds to that wryly, heading off to his room. You both tell each other goodnight, leaving the two angsty teens to decide their fate. All you know is that Nancy ends up walking out and not coming back, at one point in the night.  Yeah, thought so. Breakfast the next morning is even more hilarious. You and your uncle ask every single question that drips with innuendo that you ever possibly could. And it's worth every fucking minute.
Murray's gonna need to keep that couch cleaned. To your surprise, Murray sends you off with Nancy and Jonathan, but given that you want to go and see it all for yourself you don't mind. You’re basically his little spy.  Most uncles send off their nieces and nephews with some good advice, maybe a packed lunchbox or snacks, and a warm hug. 
Yours, however, sends you off with a full bottle of vodka, a thick wad of cash and some fun sarcastic banter. But he headlocks you in for a hug, and you cackle. He really is a nutcase, and man you can't help but love him. He is so not the parental type. Yet somehow, he's practically raised you. And in your opinion, you're pretty well-prepared for the world. More than most, in Murray's opinion. So off you go with Nancy Wheeler and Jonathan Buyers, and they both honestly enjoy your company. It helps them get past their umm...well...awkward new reality. That new reality that comes post-sex, after a long ass time of playing the tip-toe game. The sexual tension between them is hysterical to you. But you keep your thoughts to yourself for now. The vodka did most of the talking for you last night.
When you both arrive at wherever the hell your destination is, it's dark outside. And if you're being honest, it's pretty creepy. You're somewhere near the woods, and as you all walk closer you're beginning to see lights approaching you...along with a handful of shadowed figures. 
Fuck, you literally just got here.
But then, after a tense several moments... Nancy and Jonathan call out to them. You jump, startled at the fact that they do it so confidently. But the name that they call out suddenly makes it all make sense. "STEVE?" "NANCY...?" And that's how you became a crucial part of the most royal pain in the ass, King Steve's, life.
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strayteezsimp · 8 days
Text
A Dance with Fate
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Pairing: Yunho x afab!reader
Summary: You are a new soloist under KQ Entertainment and your debut is in less than a week so you turn to Yunho for some guidance. Little did you know about his feelings towards you.
content warning! IdolAU! Smut(MDNI 18+), some fluff, swearing, slight angst (self-deprecation), breast play, fingering, oral (receiving), edging, usage of sir, use of pet names (baby, pretty baby, sweetheart), piv, unprotected sex//creampie (don’t be silly wrap ya willy)
Word count: 2.3k
My first fic in a literal decade lol. A huge thank you to @optimisticbabypanda for helping me with editing it and making sure it looked good! Also thank you for taking time to help me! I appreciate you whole heartedly 💕
Hope yall enjoy 💕
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You exhaled in frustration while lying down on the practice room floor. “After 5 years of training, you’d think I’d be better at dancing by now.” You said out loud to yourself. Dance was always your struggle point as a trainee, and you were surprised when KQ said they were gonna debut you as a new soloist for them. You were hoping you would end up in a group so your dancing wouldn’t stand out as much, but here you were wallowing on the floor in self-pity. You’ve been debating whether or not you should ask someone for help; however, every time you think about it you feel this deep sense of embarrassment.
You felt like they’d make fun of you for needing help on something you should be relatively good at by now. Then you thought about Yunho. You’ve met him a few times and each time you talked to him- he seemed nice enough, “Maybe I could ask him. He seems like he'd be the least judgmental about it,” you thought to yourself, still lying on the floor with your debut song playing in the background on a loop. After some internal debate, you decide to swallow your pride and go ask Yunho.
As you're making your way down to Ateez’s practice room you feel a sense of dread. What if he laughs at you? What if he scolds you for not being able to dance to your own debut song? These thoughts have plagued your mind to the point you didn't even realize you had walked past their practice room. Internally smacking yourself in the face, you turn around and head back to the room. As you were about to knock on the door, it swung open with Yunho standing right there before you. You stood there gapping as anxiety started rushing through you.
He let out a little chuckle “Hey y/n! You're a long way from your practice room” he said with a smile on his face. You giggled nervously as you looked at your dance shoes. “Yeah, I actually had come here to talk to you about something.” You said, embarrassment laced in every word. He looked at you with a face mixed with curiosity, concern, and a hint of excitement. The moment he laid eyes on you his heart skipped a few beats- he knew he wanted to have you. You hesitated as you were trying to muster up the courage to ask.
“I really need your help with something but I’m a little embarrassed to ask in the middle of the hallway.” You said still looking at your shoes. He leaned over so he could look at your face and smiled. “Then where would you like to talk?” You giggled shyly as your cheeks turned a faint pink. You stepped back a little bit to see his face properly. “Preferably in my practice room, if you don’t mind.” Your mood lightening a little bit, you were always amazed at how much Yunho brightened up any room he was in, how just a smile from him could make your day better within seconds.
He stood up straight and started stroking his chin, it was obvious to you that he was messing around with a loud hum. “Sure I would love to help, lead the way y/n.” He said with a dramatic bow. You laughed as you lightly tapped his arm, “come on drama king.” As you two were making your way down to your practice room Yunho was internally trying to calm himself down. He was so excited to spend time with you and get to know you a little better. He was sure whatever it was you were worried about wasn't as bad as you were making it seem.
Your debut song was still playing as you entered the practice room. You walk over to your phone to start it over and pause it. “So what's the problem y/n? Are you worried about your song?” Yunho asked as he sat on the floor beside the speaker. “No, it's not the song I love my song. It's my dancing. I just can't get the choreography right.” You say as you rub your face in frustration. “Would you like to show me?” Yunho asked, standing from his spot on the floor. This was the part you were dreading. “He's gonna see me dance and laugh at me. What if he tells the rest of his group? And his members tell their friends? I'm going to be the laughingstock of the industry” you thought to yourself as you handed your phone to Yunho. You got in your spot and signaled Yunho you hit play.
He watched your every move as you did your choreo. Making mental notes of the moves you did and did not need work with. As you were dancing you felt his eyes on you the whole time. You were getting nervous because you couldn’t read his face, was he getting secondhand embarrassment? Was he trying not to laugh? Thoughts like these purged your mind as you finished your choreo. Yunho paused the music and sat your phone down. “I think I know what the problem is.” He said with a pause, making you even more uneasy. “You’re letting your anxiety get the best of you, and it’s making you stiff. Try and relax- you really did great.” He said looking you in the eyes. You felt his sincerity and it made you feel better. “Can you do it one more time for me? Have fun with it! I’ll dance with you if that would help?” He said beaming with excitement, looking more like a golden retriever than ever before.
He walked back to your phone as you readied yourself. You start your choreo again as Yunho quickly jumps beside you and dances with you. The choreo flowing like you were a natural. You were so dumbfounded by how fast he learned your choreo that you missed a step and rammed face first into Yunho’s chest, Yunho losing his footing in the process. You felt Yunho’s hands grip your waist as he quickly caught both of you from falling, both of you stared at each other in surprise as both of your faces turned red. He exhaled quickly as he stared into your eyes. The stare was intense, but in a loving way. You couldn’t bring yourself to look or pull away, it was like he had you in a trance.
He looked to your lips and then back at your eyes as if he were asking for permission starting to lean towards you. You closed your eyes and felt your lips touch as he kissed you. His lips were soft and gentle and he moved against your lips. As he started to pull away you wrapped your arms around his neck and went back in for another, not wanting this moment to end so soon. Your lips met again with much more intensity. His grip on your waist tightened as he licked your bottom lip, asking for entry.
His tongue dominated yours as you let out a light moan. You felt a light tug in your shirt as he pulled away from your heated kiss, resting his forehead on yours and looking into your eyes; you nodded and helped him lift off your shirt. He started kissing down your neck, to the tops of your lightly exposed breasts. You felt him move his arm up your back to remove your bra. Feeling his eyes on you started to make you feel self-conscious and before you could cover yourself he quickly cupped your breasts and started to kiss them. “Don’t cover them, you're so beautiful I want to cherish this moment.” You let out a moan as he licked your nipples. His hand toying with one as he sucked on the other.
You let out another moan as he slid his hand into the front of your sweatpants, rubbing your nub through your underwear. You felt your wetness on your underwear against your heat as he pulled his hand out. “I’m gonna go lock the door, have your clothes off, and have that pretty pussy ready for me okay?” Doing as he said you swiftly removed your pants and underwear and laid down on the floor. As he was making his way over to you he took off his shirt in one swift motion, he crawled to hover over you but first taking in the sight of your body. “I’ve been wanting to make you mine for so long.” He said as he stroked his fingers between your folds, earning a squirm and a moan from you. He stuck a digit into you, pumping at a slow pace. “Yunho please more” you whined, needing more.
Yunho smiled as he looked at you. “You’ll have to be patient for me baby. Can you do that?” You huffed in frustration then nodded. He stopped. “No, I need to hear you say it, sweetheart.” He peered into your eyes with a gleam of excitement and seriousness. “Yes.” You sighed out. “Yes, what?” He said, still staring at you. “Yes sir?” You said thinking that’s what he was wanting. He let out a little chuckle. He then added another digit and picked up his pace. His long slender fingers hitting you in the right spot, you let out a guttural moan as he was hitting your sweet spot. “Yunho. Please. Cum. I’m gonna cum. Please don't stop.” You said between moans. You felt the knot in your stomach tightening, and right as you were about to release he pulled his fingers out.
You groaned in frustration. “Fuck Yunho please.” He leaned to your ear and whispered “Not yet pretty baby. If you can't be patient I won't let you cum okay?” He pulled away from your ear and started gently kissing down your stomach, making his way to your soaked core, your legs spreading instinctively. Leaving love bites at the tops of your thighs, you felt your hips buck as he kissed closer to your heat. His tongue finally gives your sensitive bud relief as you let out a high-pitched moan. You throw your hand over your mouth to keep from being too loud. You writhe in pleasure as he laps up your folds like a starved man.
Your breaths become irregular as you feel yourself about to release.”Yuunhoo!” You draw out as he pulls away again. “You’re doing such a good job baby. I'm gonna make you feel so good.” He pulls back and removes his pants. His thick cock springs up and smacks against his abdomen. “Are you ready sweetheart?” He asks with a gentle tone. “Yes sir please, I need you in me, please.” You whimper out as you spread yourself open, wetness pooling from your core. He lines himself up to your hole and slowly pushes in, your breath hitches as you feel him enter. Your walls practically pulling him in. “Fuuuuuck” He growls as he bottoms out. “You feel so good baby, so wet for me.” You let out a moan as he starts thrusting into you at a steady pace.
Wrapping your arms around his neck you pull yourself to his lips, using them as a cushion to muffle your moans. He snakes his hand down to your clit and begins rubbing it in a circular motion as he slams into you. Suddenly, he flips you over so you're straddling him. “Ride me sweetheart.” After adjusting yourself to the new angle you begin you bounce on his cock. The sound of skin echoing through the practice would be loud enough for anyone walking by to hear. Yunho grips your waist and starts fucking up into you, eliciting a wail from you.
Gripping his shoulders you begin feeling that familiar knot in your stomach, your moans get louder “Yunho! Please! I'm close, fuck I'm close!” He lets out a deep groan, thrusting up into you at speed you didn't think was possible. “So good baby. Gonna cum. Gonna fill you up baby.” He looks up into your eyes as if he were pleading. “Cum with me baby. Cum” as if on command, you both release at the same time- filling you up with a mix of both yours and his cum, your hands clawing at the tops of his shoulders as you both came down from your highs. Exhausted, you collapse on top of Yunho, both laying there listening to sounds of your breathing, feeling both of your hearts racing.
As you were pushing yourself up you felt Yunho gently grab the back of your neck and softly kiss you. As he pulls away he looks at you with tenderness and concern. “Are you okay? I didn't go too rough did I?” You smile down at him and shake your head. “No Yuyu, you were perfect.” He reaches over and grabs one of the towels you brought for your face and holds it under you as you pull yourself off of him. You both clean up the best you can and get dressed. You both sit back down on the floor and he pulls you into him, your head resting on his bicep.“I know it's a little backward to ask now, but I do really like you. I have since I met you, and I was wondering if you'd like to go on a date with me sometime?” He laughed nervously, averting your gaze as shyness took over him. You smiled and turned his head back towards you. “I’d love that Yuyu.”
Lying his head on yours his face gleamed with excitement as he took your hand into his. Turning to look at you with the biggest smile on his face “We should go dancing!”
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gimmeurtmi · 11 months
Text
ice cream — 2min
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pairing: kim seungmin x fem!reader x lee minho
tags: established relationship, polyamory, fluff
warnings: swearing, throuple, mxm, ice cream and eating, kissing in public, student!reader, suggestive towards the end, minho driving (it needs a warning okay)
inspo: 2min eating ice cream together during skzcode. yes that is all it takes.
notes: i had a daydream about this and then i was bored on the bus. so reader also studies what i study and i won’t apologise!!! also i think i wanna write the whole part in the end as a smut one shot so lmk if it’ll be interesting <3 feedback and reblogs as always are hugely appreciated!!
{ wc: 1805 }
You quickly made your way outside after finally finishing with your last lecture of the day. The weather has been perfect since the moment you woke up, and thankfully it still was, and all you wanted was to enjoy it properly.
The sun was taunting you all day, finally coming out after a cold long winter on the one day you had to be stuck inside listening to hours and hours of business jargon and legal nonsense.
You had enough.
Luckily, your boyfriends knew of your displeasing circumstances and promised to take you out for a walk through the park. You knew it’ll be full of flowers by now.
You sat down on the bench where they told you to wait, soaking in the sun as you did.
You ignored any thoughts of deadlines and assignments and instead basked in the way the wind moved your dress. Not cold wind, just a nice shallow breeze.
Your dream like state was interrupted when a shadow appeared in front of you and you quickly shot your eyes open in horror—dreading to find a rain cloud coming from above to ruin what would be a perfect day.
“Hey,” Minho said, smiling as you finally opened your eyes.
“Hey!” You jumped up, glad to see it wasn’t a rain cloud at all, but your own personal ball of warmth (although you’d never dare call him that to his face).
You pecked his lips in greeting, before turning towards Seungmin and doing the same.
Seungmin brought a hand to your shoulder, rubbing the sleeve of your dress a few times before planting a kiss in your hair.
Meanwhile, Minho grabbed the straps of your bag and took it from you before lacing your fingers together.
“You wanted to see the park?” He reminds you, starting a slow stroll in that direction.
You nod quickly, swinging your hands as your free arm wraps around Seungmin’s waist.
You ask about their days, and Minho tells you all about the new choreography he’s been working on, then Seungmin says his vocal lesson was a lot harder today. Then you tell them about your professor you hate and their pointless comments and they groan appropriately at your words.
Once you reach the park you notice a brand new shop by the food court, and just as you realise how high your body temperature is the beautiful image of a painted ice cream cone comes into view.
You stop with a gasp, and it only takes looking at Minho for a split second before he changes course towards the new ice cream shop—a pleased noise leaving you and Seungmin.
It feels childlike when you enter the shop, a few dozen ice cream flavours lined across the counter. Your jaw practically drops at all the different options, and Seungmin even lets his arm leave you so he can step closer to the glass and look at his options thoroughly.
“How can I help you?” The lady behind the counter says softly.
Minho glanced over at the pair of you, gawking at the glass, and sighs.
“Can we try…” he trails off, waiting for you to point out the many flavours calling out to you. You point at the three most colourful ones, and Minho repeats it out to the lady. She offers three small spoons with a smile and hands them over to Minho, who sticks one in your mouth and the other one in Seungmin’s. The third one he keeps for himself.
Seungmin stares in deep thought, calculating as always, while you bother the lady for one more taste test. The salted caramel is the safest option, but the bright pink bubblegum looks too appealing. You get Seungmin’s opinion and he agrees the bubblegum is more sweet, and fun.
“Bubblegum!” You conclude with a smile, and Minho nods.
“One bubblegum please, one salted caramel and one—“
“—vanilla,” Seungmin supplies.
“Are you kidding?” Minho gasps. “Look at all these flavours!”
“Vanilla is a classic and—“
“—absolutely not,” he tsks, “the purple one, please.”
“Hyung,” Seungmin whines, slumping his chin on your shoulder. You can’t see it, but you know he’s pouting. Minho has that look in his eyes, pure endearment, which is usually a reflection of his boyfriend pouting.
Minho pays the lady, and orders the pair of you to find a seat outside in the sun.
“He’s so bossy,” Seungmin groans, placing a large hand on your lower back as he guides you towards the outdoor seating.
“Be nice, he just bought you ice cream,” you scold.
“One I didn’t ask for,” he scoffs.
Minho joins you a few mintues later with two large cones, and one comically small vanilla cone.
“Minho hyung,” Seungmin accuses, his face shocked as he’s handed what can only be described as a kid’s sized ice cream cone.
You laugh into your bubblegum ice cream.
Minho simply ignores him, taking a few pictures of your treats and the scenery before he starts licking away at the ice cream.
Seungmin huffs unhappily, but eats anyway.
A few ducks bravely walk closer to you and Seungmin is busy taking videos of them as he giggles at their silly walk, quaking back to them every time they get too close.
There’s a soft smile on Minho’s face, lips covered by salted caramel, as he places a hand on your thigh.
“Is this better than sitting in class?” He asks, licking his lips.
“No,” you hum, “having the most important people in my life with me while we sit in a park and eat ice cream is so much worse than listening to the difference between a verbal contract and a signed document in the eyes of a court of—“
“—ahhh!” He yells out, “I’m so bored already!”
He drops his head on your shoulder, puffing dramatically at the supposed torture you’ve just put him through.
“Be grateful,” you nudge his head away, “at least you don’t actually have to pay any attention to it.”
“I’m grateful my girlfriend is so smart and hot,” he smirks at you, licking at his ice cream.
You rolls your eyes.
“I’m bored of this flavour now,” Seungmin says, “vanilla is boring.”
And then the cone in your hand is switched around, Seungmin stealing yours and replacing it with his small and half eaten cone.
“Kim Seungmin!” You yell, but the cones are switched again, and Minho’s is sitting in your hand before you can process it.
You look over at him, the sad and abandoned cone already consumed completely before he gets up and leaves.
“Look at that, you’re so ridiculous that Minho just up and left,” you accuse. Seungmin shrugs, happily licking away at the pink ice cream.
“God, this is soooo good!” He comments instead.
You take comfort in the salted caramel and offer no rebuttal, pointedly ignoring the hand Seungmin places on your knee. He can’t just steal from you and get away with it.
Minho makes no comment as he sits back down, a purple coloured, and perfectly regular sized, cone in his hand.
You laugh so loudly the ducks flap their wings in shock.
“That’s how predictable you are, Seung,” you say, kicking his hand off your leg. He places it back, sat higher on your thigh this time.
“Hyung just accepts me for who I am,” Seungmin pokes his tongue out at you. Pink.
“I do not,” Minho says, lips purple.
You get over the shock of your betrayal quickly, since the salted caramel is just as good, and to console you further Minho offers you a taste of his raspberry flavoured ice cream. It’s perfect and refreshing and there’s no clouds anywhere.
It’s all just perfect.
“Hyung, can I try too?”
“No.”
“Hyung.”
“No.”
“Minho hyung!” You start giggling when all Minho gives in response is moving Seungmin’s hand off your thigh and placing his there instead.
“Baby,” he pleads.
“Not gonna work,”
“Bunny boy….”
Minho’s eyes gap, and then he hands over the cone, his ears exceptionally red. “Just take it! You’re so annoying.”
Seungmin laughs triumphantly, almost evil, and bites into the ice cream.
“You’re blushing so hard right now,” Seungmin smirks.
Minho wails, and buries his head in your lap as he tries to hide—but his ears are on full display. They’re too good at giving him away.
He surfaces again, only to hide in your neck, and you softly kiss around his hair in comfort.
“You’re just whipped, Min,” you whisper, as to not fuel any more teasing.
Minho mumbles something you can’t quite make out, and when you lift his chin for him to repeat it he kisses you softly instead. He tastes so sweet.
You let him keep kissing you, even when you feel a pair of hands wrap around your cone and steal it from you. Again.
“Seung—“ you try to protest, but Minho pulls you back against his lips so you can’t.
“You two seem busy, so I’m just gonna finish these for you,” he mumbles.
When you finally pull away—you are still in public after all—you notice Seungmin has actually eaten all the ice cream.
“Bunny,” Minho kisses your cheek when he hears you gasp, “slap him as hard as you can for me?”
“In a kinky way?” Seungmin raises his eyebrows, his smile so incredibly teasing, “surely it’s too public for that.”
“Please,” Minho sobs drily, nudging you forward.
You chuckle as you lean closer, and Seungmin puckers his lips in response, a pink and purple tint to them. You can’t help it when you lean in to kiss him instead.
Seungmin laughs against your lips, pulling you closer to him by your jaw.
“You two are ganging up on me,” Minho mumbles, whining dramatically and letting his head fall flat on the table.
Seungmin pulls away from the kiss, whispering in your ear, “that would actually be incredibly fun.”
You pull away, seeing an almost blinding sparkle in his eyes as he laughs. You can’t help but nod in agreement.
“Hey, should we go home?” Seungmin offers, eagerly.
Minho lifts his head as he narrows his eyes at the pair of you. “Why?”
“It’s hot, and bubs had a long day so we should go get washed up and rest,” he excuses.
But Minho agrees.
“You did well today, bunny,” he kisses your cheek, “ready to go home?”
You nod with a smile, getting up from your chair and skipping towards where you know Minho always parks his car.
You and Seungmin exchange a mischievous look between you before jumping into your allocated seats—letting an unsuspecting Minho pick the music on the drive home.
“Thank you for the ice cream and the walk, baby,” you say, reaching out for Minho’s hand that rests on the console and kissing his knuckles.
He hums in acknowledgment, smiling softly at you before focusing back on the road.
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melancholy-of-nadia · 9 months
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Thursday Night (m) | jjk
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title: Thursday Night (Boba & Ride) pairing: jungkook x f. reader rating/genre: m ; smut ; SEVEN alt. AU, college / university au, friends to lovers summary: Just another day of Jeon Jungkook waking you up in the middle of the night to get boba tea with him across town at your favorite late-night spot, Pekoe. Turns out, this is not just another nightly outing to get boba, but also a chance for the two of you to finally get out of this sexually-charged friend-zone and fuck in his Mercedes Benz G-Wagon. warnings:  car sex, vaginal fingering, edging, multiple orgasms, breast play, nipple licking, unprotected sex (well, reader is on the pill), RIDING, slight choking, creampie, body worship, Jungkook is wearing SWEATS, implied that jk vapes, awkward positions in the car bc they are HORNY and don’t care note: okay, so i originally wrote the first part of the wholesome boba date a year ago after Left & Right came out (and made it kinda based on my late night boba runs with friends in college pre-pandemic). But I never finished it, until Seven came out a few days ago and SUDDENLY I WENT BACK TO THIS AND DID A 180 AND SLAMMED SOME SMUT ON IT. VERY SPICY. Thank you for the whore thoughts, Jungkook. Thank you @daegudrama for editing and fixing the messy smut. Stream Seven!! and FEEDBACK & Comments are much appreciated !!
total word count: 4.5k drop date: july 17th, 2023, 10:30am PST CROSS POSTED ON AO3 (honeyjamjoon is my user on there) - -
Dozing off slowly as your mind wanders through the stages of sleep to reach REM, you’re suddenly interrupted by a distant ringing sound in the distance.
It sounds like… your phone? You recognize the familiar “Shooky Shooky” theme song of your favorite cartoon cookie and his 7 pals you set as a ringtone weeks ago.
Waking up with eyes still heavy from sleep, you reach your hand out to grab your phone from your bedside dresser. You squint at the bright screen seeing who the random caller is that is getting in the way of your slumber before you wake up later for another dreaded day of uni classes..
Jeon Jungkook. 
Of course it was him, you think. He’s the friend you made at the beginning of the semester in your Japanese class, where he found out that both of you took the class to be able to watch anime without subtitles. Just a pair of total weebs.
Then you kept running into him at university club events, specifically the Korean Student Association Curry & Karaoke night where both of you fangirled (fanboyed?) over IU and spent an entire night singing her discography while taking soju shots together. At this point, you knew he was just destined to be your bestie for life.
However, Jungkook has a terrible sleep schedule where he sometimes stays up until crackhead hours to do random things like late night drives (yes, he is paying the ridiculous parking permit fee to have his car on campus). He had previously invited you to get some In-N-Out with him and his upperclassmen friend Namjoon which resulted in a late night drive where you ended up on top of a mountain about 40 minutes away from campus at 1am.
While the view of the city down below was nice, you couldn’t stop freaking out about how to get back to your uni with the terrible data reception showing no map directions. Namjoon did his best to help you remain calm from a pending panic attack while Jungkook giggled, but reassured you that everything would be fine and he would figure it out. And he did. Never had you been so glad to be back on campus with some leftover animal style fries in hand.
Not many drives with Jungkook were that adventurous, but they were all late at night. Which you didn’t like due to the fact that you liked to sleep early and wake up early for your morning classes. Very contrasting dynamics being best friends with a night owl.
You answer the phone in a raspy, sleepy voice, “Hey Jungkook, what’s up.”
 “Hey— were you asleep? Sorry, I was going to ask if you wanted to hang out and get some boba, but—”
“NO!” You answer immediately. “I was taking a power nap, I AM UP! I WILL GO GET BOBA WITH YOU!”
Your voice is suddenly loud with excitement through Jungkook’s phone speaker. You’re glad you live in a single room in your 4 bedroom dorm apartment where loud sounds aren’t as easily heard by your roommates.
 “REALLY? OKAY! Let’s meet in front of my dorm building. I’ll see you in a bit.”
Boba will really get you to do anything, especially when it might be the spot Jungkook loves to take you to that is across town. It closes at 1:30am and also has a club-like aesthetic where a lot of people go to hang out at night. There are gaming consoles and a pool table, but the drinks are sadly non-alcoholic. Still good though.
 Wearing a black hoodie and your old black volleyball shorts, you head out to the front of the building next door where you find Jungkook sitting on a bench under a streetlight’s glow. He is wearing a black t-shirt and jacket, contrasting his white pants. 
 He looks good, you think as you walk up to him. He’s texting someone before he looks up at you.
 “So are we getting boba or should I head back to sleep?” You giggle pointing to the parking lot to signal him to get up from the bench.
 “Oh, we’re getting boba for sure and you won’t be sleeping anytime soon.” He speaks starting to head towards his black Mercedes-Benz G-Wagon in the parking lot while you follow behind him. Suspicious phrasing, but you brush it off. You have a dirty mind after all.
 “So, we’re going where exactly?” "Pekoe! My favorite boba spot in town," Jungkook replies with a mischievous grin. "I've been craving their Taro Taro. It's like drinking a purple cloud!" He exclaims excitedly. 
 You laugh at his description, knowing he has a knack for making even the simplest things sound exciting. As you hop into the passenger seat of his car, you fasten your seatbelt.  "And what about you? What's your drink choice tonight?"
 He glances at you, his eyes sparkling with amusement. 
 "Well tonight, I'm getting my fav from there! Pretty in Pink! Jasmine milk tea with strawberry sounds like the perfect combination of sweet and floral."
He nods in approval. It was just another testament to how well you knew each other's preferences. The car roars to life as Jungkook starts the engine, the soft purr resonating through the vehicle. I love being the passenger princess when Jungkook is driving.
As the two of you drive through the city streets, the night envelopes you in a sense of tranquility. The familiar sights pass by, but tonight they seem different. There is an undercurrent of excitement, a subtle shift in the air that mirrors the budding emotions in your heart.
Jungkook, always one to fill the silence, begins cracking jokes and making silly comments, aiming to make you laugh. And laugh you do, your genuine giggles filling the car with warmth and joy. You can’t help but be drawn to his infectious laughter and the way he effortlessly brings a smile to your face.
As you approach Pekoe, the neon sign glows in the night, welcoming you to its cozy embrace. The two of you step out of the car, the scent of freshly brewed tea swirling around you. Inside, the ambiance is lively, with people chatting, sipping their drinks, and enjoying each other's company.
You join the line, eagerly waiting for your turn to order. As you reach the counter, the friendly barista takes your requests, preparing the Taro Taro and Pretty in Pink with skillful hands. The drinks are handed to you in their signature, vibrantly lit cups, and you can't help but admire the aesthetic.
With your boba in hand, you find a cozy corner in the café, settling into plush seats. The first sip of your Pretty in Pink sends a burst of flavors dancing on your tongue, the sweet strawberry complementing the fragrant jasmine tea perfectly. Jungkook's eyes widen in delight as he takes his first sip of the Taro Taro, a satisfied smile gracing his lips.
As you sit there, enjoying your drinks and engaging in light-hearted banter, you can't ignore the subtle change in your feelings as of late. The laughter, the shared moments, and the genuine connection you have formed with Jungkook begin tugging at your heartstrings. The thought of him being more than just a best friend dances at the edges of your mind, like a gentle melody waiting to be fully embraced.
But for now, you cherish the present moment, savoring the boba and the company of the person who has become such an important part of your life. The night is young, and as you exchange playful glances with Jungkook, you can't help but wonder what other adventures await the two of you in the days and nights to come.
Leaving Pekoe behind, your boba-induced bliss carries you as Jungkook suggests going to one of your favorite lookout points—a hidden spot where you can see the entire city spread out below. The mere thought of it ignites a sense of anticipation within you, and you nod eagerly in agreement.
Driving through the winding roads, the city lights twinkling like a sea of stars, the atmosphere inside the car begins to shift. A subtle, sensually charged energy envelopes the space, like an unspoken understanding between two souls on the precipice of something new.
As you arrive at the lookout point, Jungkook parks the car, and you both stay inside, cocooning yourselves in the comfortable silence that only close friends can share. The dimly lit interior creates an intimate ambiance, casting soft shadows across Jungkook's face, and highlighting his features in a way that makes your heart skip a beat.
 Leaning back against the seat, you gaze out at the breathtaking view before you. The cityscape stretched out like a living breathing entity, its pulsating energy matching the intensity of the emotions brewing inside you.
 The silence between you feels charged with unspoken desires, the air thick with anticipation. You steal glances at Jungkook, his eyes fixed on the mesmerizing city lights. The soft glow plays on his features, highlighting the curve of his lips and the gentle slope of his jawline. In moments like these, you can't help but admire the kindness that resides within him.
 Lost in your thoughts, you feel a gentle brush of Jungkook's hand against yours, sending a jolt of electricity through your veins. The touch was innocent, yet it carries an unspoken invitation, daring you to explore the uncharted territories of your friendship.
You turn to him, your eyes meeting in a silent conversation that spoke volumes. The unspoken question hangs heavy in the air, begging to be acknowledged. With a hesitant yet determined smile, you reach out, intertwining your fingers with his, intertwining your destinies in that single act.
The connection between you deepens as time seems to stand still. His touch sends a rush of warmth coursing through your body, awakening a dormant desire that had been slowly bubbling beneath the surface. The intensity of the moment was undeniable, drawing you closer, your hearts beating in sync.
Neither of you speaks a word, for words seem inadequate to capture the raw emotions coursing through your veins. Instead, you find solace in the silence, in the electric current that flows between you, igniting a flame that burns brighter with every passing second.
As time passes, your relationship with Jungkook was left to simmer and reduce to being only friends. Holding his flirty gazes or even his hands has become part of the fun. A challenge of sorts.
Despite that, there will still come a point where you will finally lose your footing and can no longer stand your ground. You just can’t just be friends with Jungkook, and neither can he.
“I really want to kiss you right now,” He says, refastening his gaze on you.
“You should,” you say, without blinking. This is the moment you’ve been waiting for. Crossing the line you’ve been afraid to cross with him.
The lump in your throat twitches, but he reaches over from the driver seat and caresses your jaw with his hand anyways. Determining again to hold his stare, you stroke his cheek with your thumb. But his eyes close on their own as his lips move unhurriedly towards yours, they’re as soft as his approach.
At this moment, it may have seemed like you were hesitating, uncertain in this newfound situation, but in fact, it was quite the opposite. Since you two can’t stay here forever – returning to campus is rather inevitable – the lightness in his tread is completely deliberate. You both want, no, need to savor every millisecond.
You feel the heave of his exhale when he kisses you with a little more intensity. Cupping his face in both of your hands, you feel your pulse drop aggressively into your pelvis and fall further in towards him. Your hands snake back behind his head and grasp his hair to pull his face closer to yours. Your lips only part briefly to make room for your tongues to slip back and forth.
Jungkook grasps a handful of your hair and cranes your neck back while simultaneously pulling your body in closer. Jungkook's lips trailed a path of featherlight kisses along your neck, his touch sending shivers cascading down your spine, igniting a symphony of tingling sensations that left them craving for more. He pulls away quickly, greedily drinking in the stale cold air like he has forgotten to breathe that whole time. His eyes follow the trail of his fingers as he thumbs the bare skin of your outer thigh.
“I always like seeing you dress casually, in your cute shorts and oversized hoodies.”
You follow his gaze and smile. “It’s what I feel most comfortable with. But I don’t let many people see me like this because I look so bummy.”
Jungkook looks up once again to meet your eyes and mirrors your smile back to you. “But you still look so beautiful.”
In unison, both your lips draw back together. Without breaking your chain of kisses, you climb over to the driver’s seat to straddle him. Your restricted position prevents you from feeling his likely erection hiding underneath his sweatpants to press against you. But you are actually too preoccupied with devouring him through the kisses to worry about that yet.
His hands move down the length of your torso past your waist, over your shorts, onto your thighs. He slips one hand under your oversized hoodie, cupping your ass and giving it a gentle squeeze. Your hips swivel and thrust towards him, causing the top of your head to rub against the ceiling of his G-Wagon.
“At this rate, I am definitely going to look like a hot mess when we go back,” You say, feeling around for stray hairs that may have been charged with static electricity.
“Here.” Jungkook invites you to lie across the passenger’s side of the vehicle. “This might be better for you then.”
You recline slowly lifting your hips to rest your butt on the center console before lying your head on the passenger door’s armrest. Your knees fall apart to reveal your short skin-tight shorts to him. He leans over you moving between your legs and running the back of his hand up your inner thigh. Still lost in the darkness of your eyes, he rests his head on your knee and squeezes the fleshiness of your thigh. As Jungkook's fingers gently squeezed, another heat surges through your body, accompanied by a swarm of delicate butterflies fluttering in your stomach. The innocent yet electrifying touch sparked a wave of anticipation and desire, leaving you yearning for more. You also realize that even the simplest gestures from Jungkook have the power to awaken a new deep and undeniable lust within you. 
 You sit up to meet his face and kiss him again. You can taste the taro black tea boba and a slight smoky strawberry-watermelon nicotine on his tongue. Lips locked, you pull him down with you and wrap your arms around his neck. The position is awkward but stubbornly tolerated, all the same, both of you unwilling to pull apart. Both of you are like a couple of desperate teenagers fighting through the objective discomfort to exhaust every last second before curfew.
 Finally, Jungkook leans back in his seat again. You stay where you were, hoodie hiked up past your belly button and legs spread out. He uses his hands to gently pull down your shorts, like pulling away the curtain to reveal the main stage.
 Then he stops, planting that poignant gaze of his on you. A street lamp painting a streak across your torso to expose his mental photograph.
 “You really are absolutely gorgeous tonight, Bunny,” he says, which has you awestruck at this moment. 
 Bunny is the nickname he gave you a while back because you are a massive Sailor Moon fan. You both make fun of the cringey 90s dub of the show where Usagi is nicknamed Bunny. He likes to call you that when you have space buns.
 “Thank you,” You say with genuine gratitude, your knees swaying with an imaginary breeze caused by giddiness. You love how he speaks endearingly to you.
 With the back of his fingers, Jungkook gently caresses your inner thigh from knee to groin. The tingling trail he leaves in his wake triggers a shiver from the backs of your knees. He flips his hand over to fuse the warmth from his palm with the heat radiating from your vulva. Your clit is begging for attention and your your pussy clenches around the air desperate for something to fill it. Jungkook grins. You like to imagine that it’s because he too realizes all that potential he holds in the palm of his hand.
 He runs one finger along the hem of your underwear. When his hand turns around to go back the way he came, he gently slides his fingertip to the underside of the hemline rubbing the back of his finger against the skin. You lean your head back and shut your eyes, letting out a long sigh of relief.
 "I have waited so long for you to touch me like this," You whisper.
 Though yours are closed, you imagine that he never takes his intense eyes off you. He moves your panties to one side. He spreads his fingers down again over your vulva. You hear his lips smack gently as he licks his thumb. He brings his hand back down to you, gently pressing the pad of his thumb against your swollen clit. Remaining there for a moment, he faintly increases the pressure and finally begins to rub gentle circles around it.
 You feel yourself squirm in the seat, simultaneously moving closer to him and trying to pull away. Jungkook’s arm stretches out to the back to grab his Squishmallow pillow in the back seat to use as a cushion underneath you for comfort. He claims he has these pillows here since he takes naps in between classes in his car.
 Your lower back arches and your hips pressed into the cushion beneath you. But as quickly as you had been overcome with nervous tension, your body relaxed into this space, back into the seat.
 The circles turn to an up-and-down motion as you grow squirmy under the delicate burden of his touch. With two fingers on his other hand, Jungkook teases at your opening. When he finally enters, you inhale sharply in approval. His fingers are just barely inside, but it is all you need. He massages you gently from within. He slots his thumb partially inside to coat his thumb in your wetness and leads it to make persistent strokes over your clit. 
You feel yourself contract and squeeze around his fingers. He moves them in a little further, intensifying his come-hither curl deeper inside.
 A chill rises behind your ears and at the nape of your neck, heating up as it trickles down your spine toward your tailbone. One knee presses into the back of the seat as the other reaches for the dash. Tension swells in the fronts of your thighs as your heels try to dig into the seat cushion beneath him. Your hips rise, begging Jungkook to continue.
 Your breaths are craving, yet distended, and all your focus shifts inward, concentrating on the movement of his fingers, inside and out. Forgetting everything else. Really feeling it at the point of contact. Your eyes are still closed when you drink in a long inhalation, and release it with equal intention, feeling the intensity of your pleasure growing with every subsequent breath.
 “We…” Exhilaration forces the words back down your throat. Try again. “We should drive back…”
Strong thumb still resting on your clit, his other hand rises to hush you with your own wetness. “Not yet, love.” Love?! You couldn’t question the new nickname bubbling out from his lips because your mind was consumed in total stimulation. You’d talk about this sometime after, you thought.
 His burgeoning arousal was becoming more apparent in that confined space. You can hear his breath grow huskier as he resumes his rhythmic stimulation of your clit. You can smell the rising excitement dripping all over the cadence of his fingers.
 Your mouth falls open to usher forth a silent scream. Your pussy clenches around his fingers and your pulse throbs into the pad of his thumb. Your head presses back into the armrest and you worry momentarily that you might push right through the door, but your worries are wiped clean before you can finish that thought. Vision turning all white and shaky.
 Jungkook slowly slides his fingers out as your body goes limp. He leans back to watch you bask in the fallout of your body quake. Your head falls limply to one side while your body struggles to recalibrate – slowed breathing, relaxed pulse, fallen temperature, faded bliss.
 “Just truly stunning…” he repeats.
 You are caught somewhere between pleasure-induced paralysis and a voracious desire to continue and make hungry love to this man. You reach up, grab him by the collar of his shirt and pull him down towards you, forcing him to meet you at eye level.
 “Thank you,” You whisper softly into his ear. You kiss his neck, feeling the echoes of his hammering heart press into your lips.
 He breaks the kiss and rests his head on your shoulder. He shyly hides his face, hesitant to bring up his next request, “I want you to ride me. Think you could last through another orgasm?”
 You giggle at how needy he is being. “Honestly, yes.” 
 Jungkook tries to refrain himself from squealing and gets up from his position. He sits to adjust his seat back and partially slides off his sweats and boxer briefs.
 His dick is a blush shade, long and hard. “Wow…” You mindlessly speak your amusement leading him to giggle in response.
  You get up from laying on the passenger seat and climb over the center console to sit on his lap. Your lips meet in a passionate kiss yet again, while you pull his shirt off. You slide your hands slowly down his chest and abs, your small cold fingers send a shiver through his body. You lightly touch his tattooed arm, tracing each intricate design. 
 Jungkook lifts your hoodie in response to your actions and giggles upon seeing the sight underneath it. “Hehe, you’re not wearing anything under. So scandalous, Bunny,” Before you can refute his teasing, Jungkook buries his face in your breasts. 
 His soft lips slowly kiss up your cleavage to your neck. Jungkook gently sucks the sensitive spot on your neck, causing you to moan. You thread your fingers through his long black hair and tug. Jungkook winces submissively at your actions.
 “I thought you said you wanted me to ride you?” You taunt, teasing him by rubbing your wet folds along his hard dick.
Jungkook groans and grabs your hips, lifting you above him. He tugs the thin fabric of your panties to the side again before lining up his cock to your entrance and lowering you slowly onto his cock. You moan, tilting your head back in pleasure and enjoying the sensation of him filling you up.
 “Shit. You’re so tight.” Jungkook stills inside you, letting you adjust to his dick inside you.
 You experimentally lift yourself up, using his shoulders as leverage, then sink back down. Jungkook inhales sharply, biting his bottom lip as he watches you fuck yourself on his cock.  He keeps his left hand on your waist, strong fingers keeping you steady. He pushes the hoodie above your chest and massages your left breast. His tongue circles your right nipple, the sensation causing you to clench around his dick.
 “Fuck, feels so good.” he moans softly. He’s so cute, your fucked out brain thinks.
 You grab Jungkook’s hand from your left breast and slide it up to your neck, giving it a light squeeze to indicate what you want from him. He shakes his head and you halt your movement.
“No, Bunny, not today. Today, I’m going to make you scream so loud that you’re going to come back every day for more.” He feels your pussy involuntarily tighten around his cock, sucking him further into your tight walls. “You’d like it if someone caught us like this, wouldn’t you? Let them see how I ruin you,” Jungkook snickers as he teases you.
“You’re so-” You can’t even finish your sentence as Jungkook thrust deep inside of you. This causes you to lose your balance and rest your head on Jungkook’s shoulder, giving him full control over your body. He bounces you on his thick cock until you can feel your high approaching.
“I’m gonna cum, Jungkook.” You announce after a series of muffled moans, your voice barely coming out as a whisper. He tightens his grip on your ass and slides one hand down to rub your clit for added stimulation to the impending time bomb of pleasure.
 “Let go, love.” As his movements quicken, soon, he feels your pussy clenching tightly around his dick. 
“Jungkook!” You scream as you come. You kiss his neck while coming down from your high. Feeling spent, you collapse on Jungkook’s body, relishing the feeling of his muscular body moving against yours.
 Jungkook knows he can’t hold out much longer when he feels your pussy pulsate around his dick. “You can cum inside me, I’m on the pill.” You whisper in his ear shyly, feeling his erratic movements inside you. 
 He digs his fingers into your hips thrusting deeper and more erratically before he comes inside you. He thrusts a few more times to ride out his orgasm before he leans back in his seat in exhaustion.
 You both lay there in his car while you catch your breaths and pepper tiny kisses on each other’s bodies. Afterward, Jungkook lifts you up and removes his cock from inside you. You shiver from the emptiness and feel his come slowly drip out from inside you. You quickly slide up your panties into place, pull up your shorts and then readjust your hoodie before collapsing onto the passenger seat.
You watch Jungkook quickly pull up his boxer briefs and sweats. You both look at each other in your fucked out states, all messy and laugh. 
“I THINK we should go home now. It’s like almost 3am,” You laugh nervously looking at the time on your phone. 
“We should!” He chuckles. “So Bunny…tomorrow…boba, same time?”
“Just come over to my dorm tomorrow. The roomies are out, so we can watch Chainsaw Man and do this again. My wallet can’t deal with more boba runs, and then bonking and losing sleep when I have a 9am class.”
 “I’ll be the one treating you to boba from now on,” He smirks at you curiously. God, you really found someone amazing in your life.
As the night sky embraces the city with its velvet darkness, Jungkook drives back to campus. The cool breeze whispers through the open windows, sending shivers down their spines as you two reveled in the afterglow.
Your fingers intertwine on the center console, a tangible connection that symbolizes the bond you share. The radio softly plays Keshi, providing a soothing soundtrack to the journey. You two glance at each other, smiles dancing on your lips, eyes filled with a mixture of contentment and desire to keep doing this again. Maybe boba and riding every day from now on.
683 notes · View notes
checkmate-stuff · 2 months
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Hii! Could I request Albedo, Tighnari, and Cyno (seperatly) with a fake dating scenario. Like the reader's family keep pestering her about getting a boyfriend, so she asks the guys to pretend to be her boyfriend at a family gathering to get them to stop asking her, but the guys kind of have a crush on her anyway and they get together in the end?
the sweetheart scheme 
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wc. 1294 words
tw. fake dating, happy fluffy ending
a/n. hello anon! i hope this is what you wanted :3
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Albedo
“Please be my boyfriend” now don't get him wrong, while your truthfulness is something Albedo appreciates, it might also be the death of him, judging by how fast his heart is beating. “is this a joke of some kind?” You take a seat next to Albedo, looking at him with uttermost seriousness. “My parents think I have a boyfriend and we have a family dinner tonight. You would be an amazing friend if you could pretend to be my boyfriend for tonight.” “I suppose I could…”  your face lights up, getting up from your previous spot on his desk. “You’re the best, thanks bedo!” you press a quick peck to his cheek, missing the way his cheeks are set aflame by your action. And while the chief alchemist has no idea what being your boyfriend for the night might entail, he hopes it can make you see him in a different light. 
When you asked your best friend to be your pretend boyfriend for the night you never accepted him to be so… nice. Albedo isn't exactly known for his social skills in Mondstadt and you expected him to act the part as the reserved boyfriend, knowing how much he dreads social interactions. You were pleasantly surprised to find him at your door, flowers in hand. The rest of the night felt like a dream, or one of those romance novels Lisa enjoys so much. Albedo suddenly became the perfect image of a boyfriend, one that had your entire family swooned. He offered flowers to you and your mother, played with your baby sister and entertained a conversation with your father about Mondstadt politics. He even insisted on taking you home. Arriving at your front door, you turn around facing the alchemist. “thank you bedo, you did great tonight.” Albedo offered you a smile, taking an envelope out of his pocket. “I've read that sending a letter to the person you are courting is considered a romantic gesture.”  he presents the envelope to you, as if he just asked you about the time. Your eyes grow wide, and you can feel your cheeks burning. “i- are you asking me out?” “Indeed I am, and I hope you can return my feelings.” You must be feeling bold tonight, considering you pull the boy by his collar, pulling him into a soft kiss. “so, when's our first date?”
Tighnari
“By any chance do you happen to know a plant that would make my parents forget I don't have a boyfriend yet?” Tighnari is at his desk, reading documents which you assume are forest ranger reports. “I do not. Why do you ask?” you let your body lean on his desk, silently noting the way his ears picked up at the sound of your voice. “My parents are holding a family dinner, which will basically be a lecture about how I am still single.” you sigh, already dreading the yearly family dinner.“is this really an issue?” “Yes, my parents and relatives are a pain in my ass when they want to.”  You both sit in silence for a couple of minutes, an idea forming in your head. “could you pretend to be my boyfriend?? please?” Tighnari put his documents down, now giving you his full attention. “Now, this might work since we have been friends for quite a while now…” While he's trying to keep his composure, Tighnari can't ignore the way his heart jumped at the idea of ‘dating’ you. The forest ranger has been aware for quite some time that his growing affection for you was no longer platonic, so the thought of being able to call you his – even for only an evening – sounded great to him. “I don't see why not.” You smile upon hearing his answer. “perfect! I'll see you tomorrow!” 
Dinner with your family was relatively nice. It might be because your parents are too busy bombarding Tighnari with questions to pay attention to you or perhaps it's because Tighnari is by your side, hand on your thigh. The whole family seemed pleasantly surprised by your boyfriend, your cousins going as far as asking you for boy advice – something you never thought would happen – all due to Tighnari's acting. Acting that seemed a little too real, so real that you're reminded of why you came to develop romantic feelings for your long time friend. Your family deemed Tighnari worthy of you, especially your mother, who seemed overjoyed to know you're in a relationship with such a serious, handsome young man. Both of you announced that you were leaving when questions about childrens and marriage came into the conversation. Tighnari insisted on walking you home, keeping up the boyfriend act until you reached your house. “Now that we're done pretending, can I take you out on a real date?” you're not sure if you heard him correctly, heart beating so fast it's all you can hear. “what?” “i like you, can i take you out on a date?” oh, ok so you did hear him right. to say you're happy is an understatement, you're not even able to keep a straight face, smile forming without your own accord “yes, I'll look forward to it”
Cyno
You enter Lambad's Tavern and let your body fall on one of the chair at a table. Your friends; Kaveh, Tighnari, Al-Haitham and Cyno move their attention from their TCG game to you. Kaveh is the first to break the silence. “What's the matter?” you sigh “family dinner. I may or may have not told my parents that i have a boyfriend.” you can hear the quiet snort Al-Haitham lets out, probably thinking you dug that grave yourself. “so.. when's the dinner?” “tomorrow night.” Tighnari lets out a long sigh, putting down his cards. “you're fucked, i dont think you'll be able to get a boyfriend on such short notice” a few rounds of TCG are played in silence while you try to find an reason your parents would believe as to why your boyfriend couldn't make it. Kaveh, having lost yet another round, put his cards down. “hey Cyno you said you didn't have anything to do this weekend right? why don't you go with y/n?”  an innocent smile arbording his lips 
“Why didn't you tell me?” “tell you what?” “that you are dating THE general Mahamatra!?” your eyes narrow looking at your sister “we aren't dating, i told you it's just so mom and dad get off my back.” Now it's your sister's turn to look at you weirdly “oh really? then you guys are awfully good at this whole ‘we are in love’ act.” She makes a face. “ I’ve seen the way Cyno looks at you. It's not the usual, super serious, downright scary look he always has. He looks at you like you're a gift from the gods''  To say you are taken aback is an understatement. Cyno? looking at you like that?? there is no way, you would have noticed. if not Kaveh would have probably said something. Since you’ve let slip out your feelings for the general, Kaveh has been trying to push the both of you together, which lead to several awkward moments. The ride home is quiet, Cyno insisted on taking you home even after you left your family's house. He suddenly stops, and turns to you, serious as ever. “I know you have feelings for me, and I do too. If you are interested I would like to be your boyfriend. for real this time” your mouth opens and closes, nothing coming out of it. “yeah I'd like that.” Cyno smiles, looking relieved. He accompanies you to your door, hugging you before taking his leave. “Hey Cyno, how do you know??” “Kaveh told me” “I'm gonna kill him”
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repost, likes and comments are appreciated. Requests are open!
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delfiore · 10 months
Text
—A SUMMER’S TALE.
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pairing: vada cavell x reader
synopsis: the summer before college, vada joins mia's family on vacation in france and falls in love with the scenery, and a charismatic lifeguard.
word count: 9.6k
warnings: talk of the shooting
a/n: it's summer so you know my cmbyn flare ups are happening. i’ve been writing this for a few weeks now and i’m super pumped it’s done. pls let me now what you like, what you don’t like about this! i’d really appreciate some feedback!! and i’m sorry if i can’t reply to you if you comment on this as this acc is a secondary blog
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The villa had one feature that stood out in particular—a hallway that ran through the base of the house, connecting the kitchen to the open grass area in the back. Even the tiniest gust of wind could collect into a large breeze to combat the sticky heat of the day.
Vada closed her eyes and lifted her arms by her side as she felt the breeze glide through her. She could smell an earthy, hay-like smell of flowers that had been bathing in sunlight wafting in from the garden behind the villa. It didn’t take much to notice; summer in southern France was in full swing.
I could live here, she thought. Four weeks of this? Away from the repetitive scenery of the American suburbs, away from expectations. Only a few minutes since she’s gotten off the car and seen the yellow walls and red bricks of the Mediterranean villa, and she’s been buzzing ever since. She’s never actually left the country before, and the long flight over was jarring, to say the least. But the beauty of what she saw as soon as she landed made up for it.
Mia had instructed her to come along upstairs to put her things away; Vada would be occupying the guest room next to hers. She swore her friendship with Mia Reed started because they both went through a traumatic thing together, but it was moments like these when she was grateful for the perks.
“I could use a nap,” Mia said, rubbing her face.
It was nearly nine in the morning when the girls finished unpacking. Mia’s parents had given them the morning to get settled and get used to the jet lag.
“I’m not too tired,” Vada said, “maybe I’ll go into town for the morning.”
“You sure you don’t need me to come with you?”
“Yeah, it’ll be fun. It’s about time I put my four years of high school French to the test.”
The road into town winded downhill, and she was grateful she used one of the bikes the Reeds had available at their villa, as she would have dreaded the trek back up, had she gone on foot. She mapped out exactly the way into the town square and was determined to check everything out before returning for lunch. Thank god for Google Maps.
She had also bought a paper map of the town in a nearby kiosk and, after nearly two hours of exploring, mapped out a general layout of notable places in town. There was a fountain in the middle of the square in front of a church that Vada would use as a reference for everything; from the Fountain facing the church going left would be the town hall and that little kiosk, going right would be the local post office and the way back to the villa, opposite the church facing ahead lead down a slanted cobblestone alley full of restaurants and gift shops, as well as the way to the beach.
It must have been in the high 80s (30s Celsius) that day, so Vada decided to reward herself with some ice cream in the town square before she headed back. It was so hot that when sitting on a bench in the shades, she still had to try and keep the ice cream from melting all over her lap.
“Lillian’s ice cream is nice, but it melts quickly. You should try Karim’s down the street.”
Vada looked up at the voice in surprise, as it was English that was being spoken to her.
“Oh, totally!” She replied quickly. “How did you know I speak English?”
“I haven’t seen you around here.”
“But I could have also known French, right?”
“Touché, but I also recognize a compatriot when I see one.”
You wore an oversized white button-up that barely skirted past your black shorts, and your flip-flops indicated that you might have had a better idea of what the weather was going to be like as opposed to her in her high-neck basketball shoes. Peaking out from between the hem of your shirt was a necklace in the shape of a hummingbird, dangling and reflected in the sun.
“That obvious, huh?”
“Maybe a little." You grinned and shook your head from side to side. "Only tourists go to Lillian for ice cream.”
“So you’re not one, I assume.”
“I wouldn’t say so, no. My family has been coming here every summer ever since I was eight. These people are probably sick of me by now.” You chuckled.
This is your time, Vada, be smooth. “Lucky for you, you’ll have someone new to entertain.” She grinned and pointed at herself.
. . . Adequate.
The melodic laugh that escaped you gave her a new-found confidence, and she decided that it was to be her new favorite sound.
“Alright, since you seem to know the area so well,” Vada said. “What’s fun to do around here?”
Conversation flowed so easily between the two of you, she had almost forgotten that she only met you 15 minutes ago. Granted, you were also easy on the eye, and Vada would always remember the way the water from the fountain reflected in waves across your skin.
At one point she had started talking about the time her family got stranded in the middle of nowhere on a road trip to Phoenix. Vada felt like she was talking too much, but the way you laughed along with her story made her feel like it wasn’t for naught.
The bell tower of the church rang throughout the square. Vada widened her eyes and checked her phone, it was noon.
"Shit, I have to get back. My host family's gonna wonder where I am." She stood up quickly and collected her bike. The height of the seat and her haste caused her to stumble, and she would have fallen if not for you grabbing her by the arm and holding her up.
"Oh, okay. I’m sure there’s a story about a daytime Cinderella somewhere.”
She looked up and you were smirking. "Vada," she said. Maybe she shouldn’t have told you, Cinderella was fine, you didn’t know each other.
She could barely make out your attempt at her name on your lips before you nodded.
“Y/N.” You held your hand out for her to take. There was that touch that changed the course of her summer, the one touch that set into motion a journey toward a certain feeling that Vada had never felt before.
"Bye, Y/N!" She called behind her before rounding the corner, past the post office, and back to the Reed villa.
Mia had been waiting by the front door and breathed a sigh of relief when she spotted Vada cycling uphill.
"Where the hell have you been? We thought you'd been kidnapped!"
"Wait, could you get kidnapped here?" Vada’s face dropped at the thought, even though she was positively out of breath.
"You could get kidnapped anywhere, V."
"Well, I got lost." She hopped off her bike and set it by the entrance. "My phone died so I couldn't use Maps."
Her friend rolled her eyes and led her inside where a hearty lunch awaited. It was mid-June and apricots were in season for dessert.
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It wasn't until late afternoon the next day that Vada regained the energy to go outside again. The jet lag had finally caught on, and she spent the morning asleep until noon. Mia had suggested going to the beach, which was great because she could see how things were, and either get into the water or take another nap.
Mia—being Mia—wore her bathing suit and a thin cardigan as her attire, while Vada decided on wearing an oversized tee and shorts over her bathing suit.
"Don't freak out. I've invited some friends. Just kids from the area," said Mia, once they arrived at the beach.
Vada stayed back, as Mia was greeted by several people similar in age to her, speaking in French at a pace her high school education couldn’t help her understand.
“This is Vada, she’s a friend from home.”
A curly-headed boy stood up from his lounge chair and sauntered over to give Mia a kiss on each cheek, then looked over to Vada and did the same. “Corentin, but please call me Coco,” he said and took both their bags. Vada didn’t miss the way his eyes lingered on Mia’s form a bit longer than normal.
“Come, Vada! Mia, where have you been hiding this one? I’m Marlène. This is Sasha.” The brunette pulled her by the hand and gestured to the boy sitting next to her. He was slender with blonde hair part in the middle. “We’re about to go into the water if you want to join.”
“Where’s Noémie?” asked Mia.
“Déjà à l’eau. No doubt to show off to the lifeguard.” Sasha snickered, nodding his head towards the water. He took another drag from his cigarette and rested his arm back against Marlène’s chair.
“Speaking of the lifeguard . . .” Vada followed Marlène’s gaze towards . . . you.
Her mouth hung open as she watched you, in red shorts and a white T-shirt, a whistle hanging from your neck. You pulled your sunglasses up to your head and gave Mia la bise.
Of course, she thought. She had hoped to see you again, but only when there was no one else around, and that you’d catch her by surprise when she was alone once more. She’d only met you, but she wished that she could have you all alone, not like a secret, but like a prized possession.
“And just how many people have died while you’re on watch?” Mia teased.
“Zero, but very soon,” you pointed at her, “one.”
When you turned to Vada, her breath hitched. “Hi,” you greeted with that warm smile again. Even in your work attire, she spotted that necklace next to your whistle.
“Y/N, this is—”
“Vada, the daytime Cinderella. We met yesterday in the square.” You replied. “Did I forget to mention I work here?”
Vada was grinning like an idiot, her cheeks tinted pink at the nickname. “Yup, you did.”
“Y/N!” Over jogged a gorgeous girl, even Vada had to admit. Her black bathing suit hugged her curves perfectly, and though her hair was completely wet, the water droplets clinging to her olive skin made her glow. “T'as prévu aller en boîte ce week-end, ou bien? J'ai chopé l'info qu'y a un nouveau DJ en ville, et il envoie du pâté!”
She was clinging onto your arm, and speaking way too fast for Vada to understand, but she picked up on some keywords: ce week-end, and nouveau DJ.
When she finally noticed Vada there, her excitement subsided, but she walked over anyway to greet her, like an afterthought. “Salut. I’m Noémie.”
“Hi. Vada.”
Just as quickly as you arrived, Noémie had led you away, talking your ear off about something that Vada didn’t have the heart to eavesdrop on. Her eyes followed your form, picking up on the way you kept your arms by your side even when Noémie was practically hanging off of you. In a sporadic moment, Vada thought she saw you looking back over her shoulder at the friend group, and maybe toward her.
“Your phone died, huh?” Mia poked her elbow into her side with a teasing grin.
“Shut up,” Vada murmured. “What’s the deal with them anyway?”
“They were together last summer,” Sasha replied, then turned to the others. “Plan cul, how do you say?”
“A fling, but Noémie seems more attached than Y/N ever did,” said Coco.
“No doubt Y/N has already found a new paramour for the summer,” Marlène commented.
“It’s summertime. Anything’s possible.”
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As much as she hated it, you plagued her mind, much more than she cared to admit. She didn’t want to think about what your initial conversation meant to you (if it did at all), or what the lack of words in your second meeting meant. She didn’t want to think about Noémie either, how she seemed so confident to get your attention, and an up-and-down look from her made Vada want to crawl into a hole.
She remembered the handshake. The speed at which she rode away wasn’t entirely to get home in time before Mia’s parents called the police, but to get away from the butterflies that burst in her stomach that moment her hand firmly shook yours. She’d seen how you greeted your friends, but to her, she offered a handshake. Though the gesture itself was completely platonic and can be passed off as a farewell between two strangers, she felt a sense of exclusivity, that American camaraderie you shared with her in a foreign land. Common courtesy as a mode of intimacy. Revisiting it now, Vada recognized it as a sign of attraction and an apprehension to the speed at which it enveloped her.
She would see you around town in your work uniform after your shift, sometimes you’d be talking to people, sometimes you were the buyer yourself. No matter the person though—from the tourists asking for directions to the old owner of the bookstore by the fountain, they always loved you and talked to you like you were their best friend. She’d see you from afar, wanting to talk to you, but then get anxious the moment you spotted her a give her a friendly wave.
Then there were times when you would come by the Reed villa. Philip and Andre always received you like you were an esteemed guest, gifting you fruits from the trees in the backyard. She loved to see how you acted around different people, and to the Reeds who had known you for years, you were awful shy.
“Invite your parents over. We should all have dinner sometime!”
“Oh, my parents aren’t here this summer. My dad’s busy with a conference in Singapore, but they’ll drop by at the end of July.”
Even the times you were invited to stay for supper, it was clear you knew how to hold a conversation over the dinner table. She wondered if you were studying to be a politician because you seemed to charm everyone and had the best manners. Mia would not-so-subtly yield the spot next to you for Vada, and secretly, she was glad to be sitting next to you.
For the first time in her life, she felt a force holding her back, preventing her from reaching out. Maybe it was because she had only known you for a couple of weeks but felt like you’d always been there, like a puzzle finally piecing together.
And every time, right before you left, after you had said goodbye to the Reeds, you’d find her somehow. “Bye,” would be all you said with an adoring smile, but Vada would be thinking about it until the next day.
She and Mia met up with the group again one night, this time at a nearby open-air disco. When she arrived, she could spot Sasha and Marlène already twirling each other around on the dance floor, she was laughing as he spun her around, cigarette between his lips. She felt a pang of envy, imagining that it was your arms around her waist instead as you spun her around without a care in the world, in front of everyone. Let them see. Let them see that you’re mine and I’m yours. If she were being honest, she only agreed to come just so she could see you again. She found you sitting at a table with Coco and Noémie, chatting away.
“Hi.” Her attention was focused on you. She couldn’t be more sober, and she wished she had taken a few puffs before coming.
As if having read her mind, Coco pulled out a couple of joints, lighting one and taking a puff himself before passing it to Noémie.
“You partake?” You shouted over the loud music.
“Oh, she partakes.” Mia nodded enthusiastically. “The first time she did weed she smoked most of my joint. Then proceeded to blabber on nonstop for two hours.”
You let out a laugh. “I like this one!”
She hated, despised even, the overwhelming feeling of wanting to be near you, to impress you, to feel special in your eyes as you were in hers. It was human nature; everyone liked feeling special, but somehow getting validation from you would make her ten times happier. She sat two seats away from you—next to Mia and Noémie—and once in a while, she would try and dart her eyes over to look at you ever so subtly. On a couple of occasions, her heart would jump when she noticed you were already looking back.
A few minutes later, Vada started to feel the effect of the weed, and Mia must have too because she pulled her toward the dance floor. Looking back, she saw you talking to Noémie. You didn’t look too happy and neither did she, having her arms crossed in front of her chest. Then, she walked outside and you followed her impatiently. When you returned, a polite smile was on your face when you noticed her looking for you.
“Are you okay?” She shouted, the weed had made her feel bold.
“Yeah! Everything’s fine.” You shouted back.
It might have been the weed or it was something that’s already been there, but Vada couldn’t take her eyes off of you. She took you by the hand, and there was that same spark of electricity again. You let her guide you, your hands never leaving hers as you moved with her.
It was about a quarter to midnight when everyone decided to split because frankly, everyone was too tired to continue. Vada said goodbye to Sasha and Marlène, the latter of whom gave her a big hug and repeatedly expressed her delight that Vada had decided to join them. Coco, already sober, offered to drive Mia home, but his ride was a scooter.
“Sorry, les gars,” Coco smiled sheepishly and asked Mia if she was ready, to which the girl only nodded.
“I’ll walk you home.” You said quietly, surprisingly timid. “Promise me you won’t turn into a pumpkin at midnight?”
She huffed through her nose and gave you a shove, but she was grinning. It was just the two of you now. Her pride was on the line, and so was her heart.
“Penny for your thoughts?” Your voice cut through the stillness of the night. Before that, the only sounds were that of your shoes brushing against the ground and the soft sighs of the ocean.
“Is everything okay with Noémie?”
You averted your eyes, your hand coming up to play with the hummingbird on your neck.
Maybe she shouldn’t have. “Shit, did I overstep?”
“No, no. It’s fine. It’s just Noë being Noë, she was out of line.” Your walls were up. “We were always close, she was the first friend I made here. And last summer we slept together.”
“Oh.” Her steps faltered.
“I stopped it before it could progress into anything beyond that, though. I’m just not ready.”
Vada nodded slowly. Loud and clear. Maybe that was the signal she needed, the insecure part of her thought it was that, but when she was with you, all she wanted to do was listen to the other part.
“I slept with Mia once, sophomore year.”
You looked over at her, seemingly surprised. “Mia? Huh. Never would have thought.”
“It was just that, though.” She flashed you a smile.
Vada felt that surge of closeness between you, your arm swinging beside her as you walked. The obsession with finding anything to relate to you prompted her to say it, like Hey, I’m like you, I know how you feel. Maybe it wasn’t the best thing to tell you, she might have screwed up.
You mirrored her smile, but something about it told her that your heart wasn’t entirely in it. Tell me what you’re thinking, Y/N. She wanted to get inside your head and know everything you were thinking, to go all the way with that closeness. Even as friends, one has to start from somewhere.
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It was radio silence from you for the next few days. Vada came up with all the excuses as to what it could have been, and when she grew tired and angry at herself for thinking so much about you, she tried to distract herself by doing other things. She helped Philip collect figs from the trees in the backyard; she looked up the fortress nearby you told her about the day you met and biked all the way over there, even though it was a half an hour's ride each way; she finally took out the book she packed with her and began reading it whilst sunbathing. It was starting to feel like a summer that she should be enjoying.
Her mom called and was happy to hear that her daughter was going outside and doing fun things. “The people are nice,” Vada would say, “I met some of Mia’s friends.” And in true Mom fashion, her mom would quickly squeeze in a “Don’t do drugs and use protection” to which she ended the call and almost threw her phone across the room.
She would also call Nick every other day. I met someone, she said one day after having finally gathered the courage to vocalize her crush. Girl, I know. Mia had told him. When? Literally the second day. She said you were so obvious.
It was as if the weather knew too. It started raining all day when she decided to go to the beach one day, souring her mood entirely. She would sit by the entrance in the backyard watching the rain, and sure enough, she was thinking about what you were doing on the opposite end of town.
“It’s unlike you to be so hung up on someone,” Mia told her when they were hanging out in Mia’s room.
“I’m not hung up on someone,” her words trailed at the end, mindlessly flipping through the magazine in front of her.
“So am I just crazy for thinking that you want to pounce on Y/N every three seconds?”
“Okay, but what about you and Coco? He follows you around everywhere like a lost puppy.”
“Coco’s just shy,” her friend blushed. “And stop changing the subject.”
“There’s nothing between us, at least not yet.”
“So you do want something to happen.”
“Shut up! Mia!” She hid her face behind her hands and writhed on Mia’s bed in embarrassment. “I’m not talking to you about this anymore.”
“Alright, alright,” Mia held her hands up as her laughter subsided.
“Look, I just want to—” Vada took a moment. “I want to test the waters, okay? Y/N is special, and I don’t want to ruin anything.”
Mia nodded, understanding. “I just don’t want you to be misled. I mean, you’ve seen how it was with Noémie.”
“I know.” Vada smiled softly. “I know what I’m getting into. Zero expectations.”
She wanted to believe what she told Mia too, but then when she saw texts from you the next day, there was no hiding that a connection was what she so tirelessly wanted, and needed.
hey it’s y/n Sent 3:23pm
mia gave me your number, i hope you don’t mind Sent 3:23pm
call me when you see this? Sent 3:24pm
Damn you, Mia, but also, thank you.
She didn’t work up enough courage to call you until later that night. Of course, it could have been something dire, but then you would have called her first, right? I am such a wimp.
“Hello?”
“Hi,” she rubbed her hands against her shorts. “it’s Vada. You wanted me to call you?”
“Yeah. I was gonna just text you, but I don’t know . . .” You hesitated for a moment. “Anyway, you ever been to Antibes?”
“No, why?”
“Well, I’m going there on Friday for my apprenticeship, and I was wondering if you wanted to come with? I’m just giving some manuscripts to my mentor, and then leaving them with him for a few hours to review, so we can make a fun day out of it. It’s a one-hour drive, so I don’t plan on staying overnight.”
“Friday you said?” Vada took a deep breath to still her racing heart. “I don’t think I got anything better to do that day.”
“Great!” You said. “I’ll pick you up at 9am?”
“Sounds like a plan.”
“Cool, see you then!”
There was something frightening about when things go exactly how you wanted them. It was inch-perfect, the puzzle pieces just slotted in place as if they were always fated to be. You were the first to reach out; she thought it would be easier that way, she’d just have to take your hand and come along. But there was a certain apprehension that Vada had as if she was walking straight into the lion’s den like a deer blinded by hunger. What if she loses her heart? She was aware of the dangers of heartbreak, of course—she was no fool—but the thought of giving her heart to you, then watching you walk away with it like an unwanted gift was too devastating.
Mia was practically bouncing off the walls when Vada told her about the phone call, saying that in all seven years of knowing you, she had never been special enough to receive a call. She didn’t exactly say the latter part, but she all but implied it.
On Friday morning, Vada woke up earlier than usual, made herself some breakfast, and was already waiting at the door with a backpack by 8:45. No later than 9:05, you arrived with a Volkswagen Golf, sunglasses on, and a bright smile.
“Music?” You offered, turning on Bluetooth. “Also, if you need a pee break, please tell me. Bladders can be untimely.”
“Noted,” Vada giggled.
The car ride was mostly silent, aside from the music you let her pick and the fun facts you enlightened her with about some of the landmarks you drive past.
“That one I believe was built in the later 1600s and owned by a minor Provence viscount. It was also in a strategic location for the military until it was abandoned after the French Revolution. Also, the viscount built the castle for his second wife, but she died shortly after giving birth to their child.”
“That’s a little sad,” said Vada.
“She was also 14 when she died and he was in his 50s.”
Vada grimaced. “Maybe death was a sweet relief.”
“Yeah. It was more common back in the day than you think.”
“How do you know all this?” She brought her legs up against her chest.
“I like history. I like to learn about the areas I’m in, and in the time that I’ve been here, I’ve had a lot of opportunities to learn.”
She watched your side profile for a moment. “You mentioned some manuscripts. What is it for?”
“Is this an interview now?” You laughed and glanced over at her, and she looked down with a blush. “It’s for my bachelor’s thesis. Technically I don’t start writing until next year, but I like to practice whenever I can. This one that I’m giving to my mentor is a collection of essays.”
“Can I read them?” You looked over for a moment, then reached behind you to grab a file of paper and handed it to her.
Vada settled back and opened the first pages, and read in silence. She could feel you spare short glances at her from time to time, nervously watching for her reaction, but she was so engrossed in your writing it almost didn’t matter that you were sitting next to her. This might have been what it feels like to peer into someone’s soul, to see the traces of fresh blood as they lay their heart onto paper.
It was a beautiful sunny day, the waters shone a deep turquoise, and the French Riviera looked glorious as ever. And yet, she could only get lost in your words.
“This is beautiful,” Vada breathed, setting the papers down on her lap. “You’re amazing.”
You looked ahead at the road, eyes covered by shades, but your large grin was unmissable.
You parked the car on the side of the street in front of several apartment buildings. “Don’t go anywhere, I’ll be right back.” Vada only nodded and watched you cross the street with the manuscripts in your hand. She liked how it felt between you two, and she would gladly accompany you on every trip until you were sick of her.
Mere minutes later, you returned. “I hope you’re ready for the best adventure of your life.”
Only, she knew it would be.
You first led her to the market in the vieille ville, where you bought some fruits and snacks for the way. Vada also got to witness firsthand your bargaining skills, asking for a price and then pretending to walk away until the vendor becomes desperate enough to settle. “I used to be really bad at this, but then I watched my mom do it, and now I kind of just do. These vendors hike up their prices for tourists like crazy.” You walked away proudly with a bag of food.
As the both of you walked through the picturesque alleys and streets, you proceeded to tell her more about the city and its history. She listened carefully, hanging onto every word that left your lips. You told her about how Antibes was first named Antipolis and part of Ancient Greece before it was built by the Romans in the time of Julius Caesar; how in the Middle Ages the city fell under the fiefdom of the Grimaldi family, the main branch of which is now royalty of Monaco.
“Sorry, you gotta stop me before I go on a tangent,” you chuckled, scratching the back of your neck. “I’ve been talking for ages.”
“No, I like it.” She said quickly. “I like listening to you talk. It’s no surprise many artists were so taken with this place.”
You raised your eyebrows in surprise.
“Hemingway, Picasso, and Monet all had a fascination with this city.” She had to look that up, but you didn’t need to know that.
“That’s right,” you nodded. “In fact, I’ll show you the spot where Monet painted one of his paintings later.”
After lunch, you both walked along the city walls that looked out to the beach.
“I’m just saying, Ratatouille piqued a lot of interest in the dish, and it wasn’t a coincidence. I mean, I’ve never tried it but I’d love to, just because it looked so good in the movie.” Vada said.
“You’ve never had ratatouille?!” You exclaimed loudly making Vada laugh. “Man, it’s a staple here in southern France! I’ll have to make you some because that is just criminal.”
“Okay, Chef Remy. I’m looking forward to it.”
“Actually, I’ll make a whole batch for you and the Reeds too. They always give me fruits from their backyard,” you said. “How did you meet Mia anyway?”
At the question, Vada’s smile collapsed into a frown. “Um . . .” You watched her, a confused look on your face. “I’ve always known who she was. I mean, it’s Mia, you know? But one day we met officially in the bathroom at school.”
“Oh,” you voiced. You must be confused as to why that was so hard to squeeze out, but the latter part, the part she kept hidden, she had been trying to squeeze out for two years.
“We were in the bathroom while there was a shooting going on.”
You opened your mouth to say something, but you only ended up watching her. Then, a moment later, “I didn’t mean to . . .”
“No, it’s fine.” Vada shook her head. “You didn’t know.”
“I’m so sorry. You don’t have to tell me anything else if you don’t want to.” Your eyes softened and you looked like you had kicked a puppy.
“I know,” she said, taking a breath.
“I see it on the news all the time, but I can’t imagine what it’s like to be there,” you said quietly. “Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me.”
Vada hated having to talk about it. If she could have it her way, she would bury it deep down so it never sees the light of day again. Still, she has to talk about it to her friends, her family, her therapist sometimes. She hated talking about it because she’d have to see the way people’s faces contort uncomfortably as they scramble to find consoling words to say. They don’t make her feel any better, and she never liked people seeing that broken side of her reflected back at them.
But when she looked at you right now, there wasn’t a trace of ego in the way that you look back at her. Deep down, she had always wanted to lay it on you, to give you a piece of her, not because she had to, but because she wanted to.
Because she wanted you to see it.
Vada found your hand by your side, soft and comforting. She kept her eyes on them; her hand and your hand, intertwined together. You embraced it and rubbed the back of her hand with your thumb before kissing it. A kiss of friendship, a kiss of love, a kiss of two young people in a city far from home together who had only just met. A kiss that said I see you, I hear you, you’ve got me around your corner.
“You wanna go grab some dinner?” She asked.
Dinner turned into even more talk. Towards late afternoon, you said you wanted to catch the sunset before going to the spot you claimed Monet painted the city. It was a quick drive, but you pumped your fists in the air when you got out of the car and were happy with how the sun rolled over the city just right.
“Come on, you’re gonna miss it!” You jogged towards the edge of the water, beaming like a little kid. It had become natural between the two of you to share skin-ship.
Behind the trees, there it was. Across the blue water, Antibes basked in the last few rays of sunlight in stoic tranquility, just as Monet had seen it. Perhaps she was in one of Monet’s paintings, frozen in time, stuck with you.
She found your hand again, your left this time, and once again your gaze followed, but this time, you trailed your gaze to her eyes. God help me, she thought.
There were so many things Vada wanted to blurt out, and she was close to it. Holding back was never her strong suit, but once she got a good look at the depth of your eyes, she felt that they were better appreciated in silence. Words don’t do anything but snitch on you anyway.
She didn’t need to, because the moment she turned to look at you, she felt you grab her face gently and lay the softest kiss on her lips.
The sun continued to glare, yet Antibes stared on.
Did Monet ever paint lovers?
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Liar.
Liar.
Vada felt like she’d make a mistake for giving in to it. She saw her younger self in the square that day, by the fountain, eating ice cream. She saw you talking to her, and she wanted to scream and tell herself to stop, to save herself the heartache. No one else was to blame, not even you, only her.
Antibes was a week ago, and she hasn’t really spoken to you ever since. She replayed the kiss over and over in her head, trying to pinpoint exactly the moment when you decided that keeping your distance would be the best course of action.
But then she remembered the way you acted alone with her was much different than how you were with the others around. She saw the way your eyes linger on her when you thought she was admiring the sea. She noticed the way you smiled bashfully when she brought up how good your essays were in front of your mentor. She remembered how you never let go of her hand when she grabbed it while you watched the sunset.
Marlène and Sasha had been a big help in getting her out of her slump. Mia was there to cuddle with her the first couple of nights after Vada told her everything, but rendezvous with Coco had kept her busy. But Marlène and Sasha were cool, and probably one of the healthiest couples she’s ever seen at the age of 20. She felt like their adoptive child hanging out with them, especially when Sasha would greet her by endearingly calling her Petit Vada.
“And have you talked to her?” Marlène asked, leaning over the lounge chair. She and Vada had been sunbathing and swimming at the Reed villa that afternoon.
“No.” Vada sighed. “It’s just—I just don’t get it! Why does she have to be so mysterious all the time? Like one moment we would be fine, and the next she’s somewhere else, someone else entirely.”
“That’s Y/N,” Marlène chuckled and took a sip from her margarita. “You know, when I and Sash first got together, he wasn’t as talkative as he is now. In fact, I was the one to ask him out. Sometimes you just have to suck it up and tell them.”
“That’s so easy to say,” Vada muttered, and put her face in her hands.
“That’s the kind of attitude you should save for when you go back to your other life, your American life. Are you going to university this fall? Summer’s halfway over, you know? Are you going to mull over it and let it pass by you?”
“Yes.” Vada’s voice was muffled through her hands.
“Carpe diem, mon chère.” Marlène shrugged. “It’s cheesy but it’s true.”
Andre being the ever BBQ dad that he was, decided to host a get-together with some friends that night, and encouraged Mia to invite hers. Everyone that Vada met at the beach showed up, including Noémie, except for you.
“She said she was busy,” Noémie waved it off. Vada pursed her lips. The fact that you talked to Noémie first stirred uneasy envy in the pit of her stomach.
She didn’t have the stomach to sit outside and spoil everyone’s fun with her sour face (most of all she didn’t want to give Noémie that satisfaction), so she made a plate for herself and ate in the living room.
“Hey, kiddo,” she looked up and saw Philip walk past her toward the kitchen. “Not feeling the party?”
Vada made a face to indicate a yes, but she didn’t want to explain further. “Just not really in the mood, sorry.”
“It’s okay. You can’t stop Andre from barbecuing when he has the urge or he’d literally combust.”
She nodded and smiled. “We don’t want that.”
“We’re serving fruits now. Want me to get you some?” He pointed at her empty plate.
“Yes, please. Thanks.” She hesitated for a beat. “Hey, Philip?”
The man turned around.
“How did you know that you wanted to marry Andre?”
Philip contemplated for a second, then walked over to the couch where she sat, leaning against it. “I didn’t wake up one day and choose to propose to him, Vada. It’s just one of those things when you start to notice that gnawing feeling in your chest. And you’d have to ask yourself, ‘Would I be fine going the rest of my life without them?’”
Vada nodded slowly and smiled as the man went back to the kitchen. She opened her phone and went to your messages. The last text from you was from a week ago. She began typing.
can we talk? Sent 8:47pm
A mere five minutes later, you responded.
of course Sent 8:47pm
meet me at the fountain at 10? Sent 8:48pm
see u there Sent 8:48pm
Vada found you walking back and forth by the Fountain, one hand in deep your pants pocket, the other holding a cigarette between your thumb and index, and puffing it as if it would give you a lifeline. She got off her bike and set it by the railing of the Fountain where you stood.
“You smoke?”
“Not usually,” you attempted to smile, shaking your arms as if to shake off an invisible burden. You were anxious, it was clear.
Vada didn’t know what to say next, so she leaned against the railing of the Fountain, rolling a pebble back and forth underneath her shoe.
“I’m sorry I didn’t come to see you earlier. I was busy.”
She nodded half-heartedly, not looking up. She wished you’d come up with a better excuse than that.
“Are you angry with me?”
“Angry’s a strong word, Y/N.”
Another puff. “Are you discontent with me?”
She should have prepared herself for the nit-picky bullshit from a writer. “I don’t have a valid reason to be upset with you, not really. Unless I’ve been reading this wrong.”
“You haven’t.” You answered quickly and met her eyes. “I promise. It wasn’t very mature of me. In fact, I think I acted like a total idiot. I’m really sorry.”
“Do you regret kissing me?”
“No, not at all. And you have to believe me.” You sighed exasperatedly, and she almost felt bad because you looked so anxious.
“Tell me what you’re thinking.” Vada stepped towards you, facing you head-on. “You’re asking me whether I’m upset with you, but I don’t even know what you’re thinking most of the time. And then you disappear as though I did something wrong! How fair is that?”
You nodded and took another drag from your cigarette. Then, you dropped the butt on the floor and stomped on it. “I’m thinking that I really want to kiss you right now.”
Vada scoffed. “I don’t believe you.”
You stood up from your spot against the railing, your face now inches from hers. “It’s true.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Yeah, it is.”
She felt the exact moment her body became as light as a feather as your lips pressed against hers. Her hands clenched by her side, and come up to hold onto your shoulders, because she was afraid her legs might give out under her. You angled your face and deepened the kiss, and Vada sighed into your mouth. This is what the poets all wrote about, the inevitability of giving in to what you’ve wanted for so long. She’s caged in you in between her body and the Fountain, kissing you and touching you as though her life depended on it.
You moved to lower your kisses to her neck, but she leaned back and saw a dark look in your eyes.
The sound of a street musician playing the saxophone in the distance somewhere echoed through the square. Wordlessly, Vada took your hand.
She followed you by bike towards your house, which was towards the end of the street closer to the beach. You returned to speaking only one or two words to her, telling her to put her bike by the door next to yours, to take her shoes off before coming in, and whether she wanted some water.
“Nice place.” It was another thing that she never thought to ask you about, nor did you tell her. But it wasn’t a surprise that your family was loaded too, considering the vacation home in an area like this.
“Thanks. It’s my parents’, though.”
“What do they do again?”
“Well, my mom does interior design and my dad is a football agent.”
“Football agent? Who does he represent?”
“Mostly American players in Europe; Christian Pulisic, Luca de la Torre, Gio Reyna. I remember my dad bringing me along to dinner with Sergio Agüero once because he considered a move to LAFC. That was pretty cool.” You stood against the wall in the hallway, next to the staircase, kicking your feet aimlessly. The small talk was to cover up for something else.
You fell into a deep silence. Vada took a step forward under the yellow light of the hallway and took your hand, stroking it gently.
“Can I kiss you?” She asked quietly.
You and she both knew you were way past just kissing. This was new territory, and there would be no going back after this.
You nodded, and she surged forwards to kiss you slowly. This time, it felt different. You kissed her without the chastity and fear of being looked in on but without the hunger of overcoming lust. It was a perfect blend of passion and appreciation, a marriage of everything felt within the past few weeks.
You lead her upstairs, towards your room. Once inside, your lips were still glued to hers as you let her walk backward, though your eagerness made her trip on your feet and fall onto the mattress.
“Oh, shit. I’m sorry. ‘M sorry.” The two of you burst into a fit of giggles as you tried to make it up to her with a shower of kisses.
As her giggles quickly turned into pleasant sighs, she decided to surrender herself to you, to her deepest desires ever since the day she arrived. You had charmed her from the moment she laid eyes on you. But now to feel your hands on her in all the right places took her to new heights of pleasure that she’s never experienced before. How beautiful it was to be herself, to be here in this moment, and to cherish and be cherished by you. But most of all, to hear you whisper her name and profanities in the most sinful and vulnerable ways, so unlike your polished and composed self in front of other people.
Vada, Vada, Vada . . .
She awoke in the morning, the sun piercing through the horizontal slits of the shut windows. There was sweat sticking to her skin, but she didn’t want to get up and shower, not when you were still soundly asleep, arm loosely wrapped around her torso. It was then that she realized that you both were still very naked, but she reveled in the skin-to-skin contact like it was giving her strength and vitality. The golden hummingbird sat on your chest, rising and falling with each of your breaths.
Vada caught the moment your eyes fluttered open and focused on her. Then a smile.
“What time is it?” You asked.
Vada leaned over to check the clock on the wall. “7:41.”
You grumbled. “My shift starts at 8:30.”
“You better chop-chop then.”
“I don’t wanna go.”
“Then don’t.” Vada placed her chin on your upper chest. “Stay here with me, and we can recreate last night.”
You chuckled and kissed her once. “That sounds really tempting.”
And yet, you moved to get up, but she held you back. “Five more minutes.”
“Only five?” You smirked.
“You don’t think I can do it in five?”
You grinned like a Cheshire cat and settled back.
Vada had to let you go eventually, you let her stay at yours and do as she pleased. She suddenly remembered that she never texted Mia back about staying out overnight, and sure enough, flipped her phone over to a few missed calls and text messages. After texting her back and reassuring her that she was okay, she got up and went to take a shower.
You came back around four and, as much as she didn’t want to admit it, it felt like forever until you walked through the doors again. And the moment you did, she pounced on you like a lion.
“I’m so sweaty,” you laughed but soon became lost in the sensation of her lips against yours.
You made love again that afternoon. Vada could almost picture the routine that she and you so easily fell into, how the puzzle pieces fit together so seamlessly. It almost felt like she had cheated somehow to feel this way, that it truly felt as magical and wonderful as it was laying in your arms, both of you stark naked. You had showered and smelled much like lavender. Your eyes were closed but you weren’t asleep, as she watched your chest rise and fall steadily. Sometimes you would murmur something and she would talk to you quietly, knowing you were tired from a day’s work at the beach.
“I knew I liked you from the first day, at the Fountain,” you said.
“Then why didn’t you say anything?!” Vada looked up and hit your chest playfully.
“I didn’t want to come on too strong and scare you away!”
“Jesus Christ,” she sat up and put her face in her palms. “Y/N, I wanted you so badly. Like, I could not go a day without thinking about you. It was actually becoming unhealthy how much I did.”
“Oh? I’m flattered.” You smirked and rubbed her knee. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Because . . . After Antibes, I wasn’t sure if you felt the same way.”
Your face dropped slightly. “I was scared to get close to someone. I think I caught myself then after we kissed. It was scary how much I wanted your company.”
Vada could understand. You’ve only known each other for three weeks. What were you to each other? Maybe it didn’t matter, there was something comforting about just existing as two souls being present with each other. She realized that the fear she’d harbored about losing her heart was all in vain; you never took it for yourself, you’d only pressed your hand against her chest and encouraged it to keep beating—to keep being hers—while you’d hoped that she would do the same to you.
“If you could go back to that day at the Fountain, and do it differently, would you?” Vada asked.
You thought for a second, then shook your head. “No. I always want to remember you this way.”
Vada swallowed thickly and avoided your eyes. “We’re leaving next week.”
A silence hung in the air, unspoken words stuck in her throat. Tell me to stay. Tell me you’ll come back with me. Tell me you’ll never love anyone else. Tell me you’d forget about me so as to soothe the pain.
“Then let’s make it count,” you brushed a hair from her eyes. “We’re not the first, and we won’t be the last to love each other.”
She dreaded the flight back home, having to pretend leaving you wouldn’t be as hard in front of Mia and her parents, and about 300 strangers. She’d miss biking everywhere and the beach and Lillian’s ice cream (she had grown to like it over Karim’s). She’d remember Antibes and Monet’s spot. She’d remember your face and how you seemed to appear in every memory of this trip.
Vada felt you brushing your finger under her eye and realized that it was wet. Then you brought her into your arms and held her tight as she hid from the world in your neck. You cooed and somehow it made Vada feel worse and started crying harder, clinging to your skin desperately.
She’d find space for the grief she was going to feel in her heart somewhere because she knew she’d rather live with the pain than be without you again.
The last week started on a Wednesday. Vada did the usual things she did the last few weeks—go to the beach, bike to town, hang out with the group; she wanted to soak into that last semblance of her summer routine before she had to leave, and everything would be different. She hadn’t given college much thought either. Deciding to move halfway across the country for it was the least stressful part of the whole process, as she was going in undecided. Mia was happy though, because they would only be a few hours apart by train.
Until then, Vada was too afraid to ask you about what would happen after the summer ended. If she asked, it would mean that it was close and it was real. You’d go back to school in Paris and start on your thesis, and everything would go back to the way it was.
Everything would go back to the way it was. As if nothing happened.
She had lived four weeks with you, how was she ever going to go the rest of her life without you?
She met up with you after dinner one night at the beach. The tides had come in much closer and were pulling on her heartstrings mercilessly. In and out, in and out . . . You were as quiet as the night, your eyes gazed towards the distance somewhere, looking pensive.
Still, she was afraid to ask.
“I lied,” you finally spoke. “I wished I had told you sooner how much I liked you.”
Vada remained silent and nodded. “We’ll call.”
“It won’t be the same.”
She knew too that it would never be the same the moment she leaves France. She realized that though she was afraid to ask, time was not on her side, and she didn’t have the luxury to be afraid anymore.
“Will you stay over tonight?” Vada asked, and you looked so happy that she did.
Once you stumbled through the door, you leaned in to kiss her instantly. Between wanting to kiss you back and suppressing moans, she told you to be quiet as you followed her upstairs, hand in hand. You failed, however, actually, both of you did, as your giggles trailed up the stairs and through the hallway. Vada would be lucky if only Mia heard you.
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The day she left for the airport, you came over to say goodbye. You greeted the Reeds first, giving Philip and Andre big hugs, then turned to Mia to hug as well and kiss her on the forehead.
Vada waited in the backyard. She felt almost pathetic and needy for wanting you to come out here quicker. It won’t be the same.
“Andre gave me this to keep for my parents.”You held up a bottle of wine by the neck. “1983, nice.”
Your smile died down when you noticed her silence. “You got everything?”
She nodded. Wordlessly, she stepped forwards to wrap her arms around your frame. She thought she’d cry, but it was as if her brain was already actively shutting down trying to block out this memory to save her the future heartbreak.
You pressed her tightly against your chest and swayed her back and forth. Upon releasing her, you set down the bottle of wine next to your feet and took off your necklace.
“I want you to have this.” You opened her palm and neatly placed the jewelry inside. “That way, you won’t forget.”
How could you ever think that I would forget when I’m afraid I’ll never be able to let go of this summer?
“I wish we had more time,” Vada said.
“Bye, Cinderella.” Your eyes were glossy now.
The car door was wide open, waiting to take her away from you. For a split second, she considered dropping everything to stay.
She leaned in to kiss you once, deep and hard, “Bye, Y/N.” Then she walked away, the hummingbird clenched in her fist.
You followed her and watched her get in the car. You watched her close it with force and you watched her refuse to make eye contact with you, but you saw the way her lips trembled. You watched the car take her away from you and grazed the spot on your chest where the hummingbird was missing.
It was mid-July, the hottest day of the year, and yet, the ocean waves—blue as it gets—continued to crash against the shore, on and on and on.
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deerspherestudios · 1 year
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Hi! I played your game and really, really like it, I am a huge fan of slow burn - combined with Yandere too? That's kinda rare nowadays, haha. Thanks for making it and creating Mychael, I love his design. Two questions: How many days are planned to be playable in the full release?
And
Since in just one day Mychael feels very friendly towards us (according to a post you made with where his feelings are based on a meter) does that mean he's very clingy??? Like, in just one day he feels like our friend. What little effort and words will it take for him to go from crush, to love, to whatever yandere thing he might be??? Like, is he okay??? Should I be worried???
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This guy? Clingy? Nahhh. Nothing to worry about, anon :-) 🍄❤️
As for the game, long (!!!) answer below cut: might be spoiler-y might be not.
For context, here's the post mentioned above.
I'm still not sure how many days it will be, but it's definitely ranging between 4-5 days. Granted it'll be a while before the game is finished finished but I think progress will pick up as I complete assets that will be reused. I'm writing Days 2, 3 and 4 simultaneously (anyone who writes can probably relate to wanting a specific thing to happen in the story but dread writing up to it, so I skip around in order to keep my motivation and interest up)
As for relationship progression, slow burn usually means a long time passes before anything develops. But this is a VN and I'm a solo part-time dev so the scope still has to be small 😔 That said!
Mychael, as a person, is quite solitary in nature; he likes being alone and you'll find out why. He does however desire company and he's only realized just how pleasant having someone around can be (hence his reaction for the Bad Endings in Day 1 if you wish to leave/run away)
Although I'm not a fan of the 'you do one (1) nice thing any decent person would do and yandere is already head-over-heels for you' trope, I do have to make use of it but, drip-feed style? You grow closer to Mychael as you hang out with him and do little things that he appreciates. (Honestly I just realized I'm describing the typical visual novel experience just without the yandere beginning-- go! figure!!! /lh)
Example: the first thing that boosts you to immediate friend status is your willingness to accept his physical looks, something that's never happened to him before. (I know my artstyle makes him a yassified pretty boy but imagine genuinely meeting a sentient creature in real life with patchy green skin, a dextrous tail and four blinking pitch black eyes, I think I'd freak too haha) Little things like that mean a lot to him and motivates him to prolong your stay.
In a way, the MC is written to be more kinder and open-minded (at least outside of Bad Ends) than the sweet/sour personalities that come in a VN, so (for narrative AND coding purposes) I can't really diversify it much. I hope that's okay ¯\_(; v ; )_/¯ If Mychael met a more grouchy/mean MC on Day 1 he'd probably not be as attached. He'd just save you, feed you and send you home when you ask hahaha. Of course this will change as he gets to know you better, at that stage he'll be willing to overlook your flaws like any upstanding yandere
Phew this was a lot to dump in an ask but I did wanna explain my vision for the game! I enjoy yandere VNs as an escape fantasy, but it's common they start out with the yan already being invested in you or fall for you too fast!!! if that makes sense. I'm interested in yanderes in the aspect of how love (romantic or otherwise) starts from innocent affection and spirals into dark obsession!!! It's also compelling as to why a character is so devoted to someone, in this situation the MC, and I wanna write the kind of person Mychael would fall for. And personally 'love-at-first-sight' as a reason just doesn't do it for me 💔
(Disclaimer!!! I'm not saying my game is any more original or better than the other wonderful yan VNs in the works, but hopefully with Mychael as a character I can deliver that 'slow-burn-and-yearn' storyline I'd like it to be. As my itchio profile says: I make games I thirst for in secret but are sadly lacking around the internet 💔 )
Thank you for the ask!! :-D
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mrsdarkandyandere7 · 10 months
Text
#1 - Scenario » Dark!Peter Parker
Pairing: Dark Peter Parker x (female) Reader
▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.
More at Masterlist
WARNINGS: Kidnapping; NONCON.
AN: Just an idea I had.
Please, reblog and give me feedback.
--
When Peter took you, he truly assumed that you would - eventually - come around and warm up to him. 
Peter’s not a bad guy, is he? No. 
He doesn’t keep you chained. He doesn’t make you starve. He doesn’t force himself on you. He actually lets you walk around the apartment freely. He plans cute date nights with your favorite movies and snacks. He takes care of you. 
He. Does. It. All.
Why? Cause he’s 110% sure that you’re meant to be together, he just knows it. And he wants you to be happy. With him. 
Peter gets that being taken away from the comfort of your home can be traumatizing and shocking. He’s understanding about that, he really is. 
But it’s really hard to stay positive when you seem determined to shatter the sweet happy dreams he imagines for the two of you. He hates to admit it but you can be a little bitch when you want to.
You destroy the gifts that he lovingly offers you. You enjoy trashing your room (and his). You talk nasty things back. You curse at him. You try to hurt him innumerous times.
It really hurts his feelings. 
It breaks his heart when you reject his touch. You can barely manage to utter a few words to him, let alone let him touch you. Like you’re repulsed by him. 
You abruptly snatch your arm away from him, moving away to another division whenever he tries to cuddle you. At night, the presence of a pillow wall is mandatory as if you can’t even stand the sight of him. 
At first, Peter is deeply hurt, although comprehensive of your situation. Time should heal things. But no. They only get worse.
Peter blames himself for that. Your snappy attitude, the mean behavior. It’s all his fault. Tony also agrees with that, assuring him that had he been more strict with you, none of this would happen. 
Slowly, Peter starts to believe in that too. He’s always too nice with you, letting you walk away from misbehaving without any punishment. But he doesn’t want to punish you, he only wants your love and appreciation. 
Peter just wants to feel the warmth of your body, he’s desperate for a gesture of affection. He needs it. 
Finally he snaps. It was bound to happen one day. 
You’re in a bad mood that day and so is Peter. You have a fit, throwing plates to the floor and to the walls, screaming like a banshee. Peter is tired of your attitude, he’s tired from a long day at work and coming home to you acting like a crazy bitch doesn’t help.
He’s tired, moody and exhausted. 
You barely have time before he’s pouncing over you, a harsh slap making you yelp. Peter is quick in grabbing you by the hair, dragging you to the room, uncaring of the way you try to kick him away. 
Enough is enough. 
You want to behave like a bitch? Then you’ll be treated as one cause he no longer has patience for you. 
Webs tightly bind your limbs to the bed and Peter jumps on you, ripping your clothes and pushing your panties into your mouth, silencing your pleas. 
Your eyes glow with tears, but most importantly, with dread and Peter notices that. He smirks at your frightened reaction. Finally you’re giving him some respect - respect that he deserves. 
He slides his hand down your arms, your legs, the smooth skin feeling like heaven and he almost drools at that. You quiver and shake under his touch, completely vulnerable and it feels good. To have you at his mercy, unable to do anything. 
Peter kisses your wet cheek, promising to take it easy on you, that he won’t hurt you.
He lies. 
The bed violently hits the wall, a result of Peter’s rough thrusts. His stamina never waves down, his desire for you fueling the multiple orgasms he’s already had yet wanting for more.
Beneath him, you’re almost passed out, limbs still glued by his webs. You barely cry, too weak and hurt to keep with your whining. 
Peter is not being gentle, fucking you hard so it almost seems like he wants to merge into you, he’s finally unleashing all his frustration.
He fucks you over and over again, the loud sound of skin against skin echoing in the room. Dumping sticky loads of his cum inside you, vigorously abusing your sore hole. He’s insatiable tonight, his hunger for you surpassing any compassion or humanity.
He wants you, he needs you. 
When he’s finally had enough, that’s when it hits him what he’s done. 
You don’t say a word, a broken look in your eyes, dried tears decorating your face. 
Of course Peter feels guilty, you look so sad and gloomy but hey, at least now you’re not fighting him. You let him shower you, unable to fight him back after the assault that he’s put you through, you don’t say a single word, only flinching when he touches you. 
And when he takes you back to the bed - after changing the huge mess he’s done - you don’t push him away when he wraps himself around you, sniffing your sweet aroma, his heart content to be so close to you. 
Maybe what happened is a good thing.
Maybe now you’ll learn to love him, that’s what Peter thinks to himself as he kisses your hair, falling asleep with you in his arms. 
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852 notes · View notes
creative-crybaby · 1 year
Text
Fly on the Wall
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PAIRING: yan!timeskip!Sakusa Kiyoomi x fem!reader
GENRE: smut | dark content (18+)
Minors DNI
TAGS + WARNINGS: yandere themes, noncon, stalking, somnophilia, semi-public masturbation (m), nipple play, fingering (with leather gloves), dacryphilia, cum eating, creampie, size kink, breaking and entering, panty stealing, basically Sakusa is a perv
Let me know if I missed anything.
WORD COUNT: 8.7k
SUMMARY: The new Black Jackal’s manager catches Sakusa’s eye. Unfortunately, whatever distance, physical or otherwise, is between you two, is too far for his liking. All characters are 18+
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Not meant to be a Christmas gift, but my timing does wonders, I guess :/
© creative-crybaby, do not repost or modify
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The Black Jackals getting a manager didn’t excite him the way it did his teammates. The idea itself didn’t bring him dread, of course, but the knowledge that certain players may get distracted–or worse: rowdier–brought more stress to him than he’d appreciate. 
Bokuto and Hinata were already babbling on to each other about what you might be like, reminiscing their high school days when they both had two managers on their respective teams. Atsumu joined in, whining that Inarizaki wasn’t as lucky to have a girl manager, let alone two attractive ones. He also bet that you’d be cute—Sakusa could only roll his eyes at the exchange.
You carried yourself with a grace often unfound in volleyball when meeting the team, offering a polite smile as you introduced yourself. Even when bombarded with questions from the boisterous ones (you know the ones), you didn’t falter, even assuring Meian that you didn’t mind the energy: “It’s nice to know I’ll be supporting a passionate team.”
Pretty, Sakusa thinks. You didn’t blow him away, but it was enough for him to acknowledge upon first laying eyes on you. Even he found himself momentarily frozen when you two made brief eye contact. 
Regardless, you’re not here for a modelling contract; you’re here to help the team grow to its full potential. The wing spiker may not be praying for your downfall, but he certainly isn’t going to celebrate your arrival too soon, either. 
Anyone can refill water bottles and hand out clean towels to sweaty giants. The same goes for taking notes on their progress, especially since you should know how volleyball works. From what Sakusa has observed, you do more than well in that department, too, always ready to correct someone’s form or have a report prepared for Meian in no time. You’re organized, punctual; it helps that you also sprinkle in some encouraging words when necessary. (Certain members are more than happy to gain that praise, which means more headaches on the ravenette’s end.)
It doesn’t take long for you to get him to accept you into the team—in his own way. He doesn’t avoid you like the plague, per se; he merely never saw any reason to put in as much effort to get to know you the way someone like Bokuto or Atsumu would. He was just glad to have one more person to give him some proper feedback. 
That distance Sakusa created is seemingly one-sided. There’s no special occasion, either: it was after a practice that partook a few days after a game against the Tachibana Red Falcons. A close match where the Black Jackals managed to pull through, though that wasn’t precisely what consumed the wing spiker’s thoughts at the time. You handed him a neatly folded towel during the athletes’ break, and he nods his thanks. You stay before him, and he peers up at you curiously after wiping his face. Stretching your hand to him, you carry a mini hand sanitizer pack. Nothing special: it’s a standard bottle in a dark red and attachable case. 
“Noticed you weren’t a fan of the gifts from some of your fans and would look grossed out when a kid would touch you,” you explain, offering a small smile. “Hope you don’t already have one of these. This was the only normal-looking one I could find. Wasn’t sure how you’d feel about having a giraffe case dangling from your bag.”
You offer a sheepish laugh that Sakusa would refuse to admit is something he’d want to hear again. Not wanting to leave you hanging any longer than he already has, he takes your gift, eventually muttering his thanks. 
It’s like a boy clinging onto that one compliment he got a few years back because it’s all he received. A rational voice in his head dismisses your observation as something someone on the team probably mentioned to you—maybe Atsumu made a joke about him being a germaphobe, and you took it seriously. 
Still, that’s not a possibility the wing spiker wants to entertain. Not as he goes on with the rest of practice, not when he’s in the changeroom, not when he’s attaching that case to his gym bag, not when he gets home, and certainly not when he goes to bed that night. A small gesture, one probably wouldn’t overthink, lingers in his thoughts until Occasion #2 appears. 
Coming back from an away game is one of the few opportunities the volleyball players get to recharge. After packing everything into the bus, each member sits in their unassigned-assigned seat. Or, at least, most of them would. Some chose to sit wherever it was convenient for them: they wanted to carry on their conversation with one of their teammates or maybe get some shut-eye. Sakusa was the latter, opting for a window seat far away from his boisterous colleagues as possible. Ready to close his eyes, he only got a few seconds of relaxation before he sensed some shifting next to him. With furrowed brows, he opens his eyes, ready to tell Atsumu off (let’s be honest, it’s always Atsumu), only to find you making yourself comfortable in the spot next to his instead. 
You turn to him somewhat sheepishly. “Hope you don’t mind. I wanted to get some rest, and you’re pretty quiet, so I figured having you as my seating buddy was my best shot.”
You don’t say anything afterwards, waiting for him to tell you to leave him alone. To his surprise (and yours, he’s sure), the wing spiker mumbles a stoic “Go ahead,” his eyes trailing towards the window as he readjusts his mask. Even with his gaze no longer on you, he could hear the smile in your voice as you thank him. 
For the next several hours, Sakusa remained awake, thinking about everything and nothing all at once as he’d glance over to your sleeping form every few minutes. Even people like Bokuto and Hinata lost enough energy to fall asleep, but the ravenette didn’t notice. If anything, his entire world dissolved into nothingness as soon as your frame unconsciously leaned on his shoulder. His whole body froze, but surprisingly, not out of disgust. Awkward, perhaps, but he didn’t feel the need to wake you up, let alone push you away. 
His senses heightened. With you so much closer, his eyes scanned every detail your face had to offer, every reaction you had in your sleep, from stirring after hitting a speedbump to sighing whenever Saksua dared to take a breath too deep. Speaking of breathing, even with yours being so shallow, he can hear the steady rhythm loud and clear, despite Bokuto’s snoring somewhere in the distance. Your scent attacked his nose, even with the mask shielding most of his face, and he can at least admit to himself that it was refreshing to smell something that wasn’t a bunch of sweaty athletes. It’s just your head on his shoulder, but the ravenette felt you burning your mark into his skin, one he didn’t ever want to wash off. Every sense except for taste—
A speed bump. The last thought retreated as fast as it invaded. The remaining hour and a half to return home flew by with his guilt as a distraction. Even when Atsumu woke up and teased the wing spiker for trying to get close to you, Sakusa didn’t feel the need to reply. He merely looked down at your still-sleeping form for several seconds more before eventually trying to wake you up. He’d rather he didn’t, but something about others seeing you in such a vulnerable state irked him in a way he can only describe as filthy. No amount of water and hand soap can scrub away that dirt, but as soon as your eyes opened and met his before anyone else’s, that itch got scratched. He didn’t register your profuse apologies until a couple of other teammates decided to join in on the teasing, and suddenly Sakusa found his voice. 
“It’s fine.”
But it wasn’t fine. And it still isn’t. Maybe you forgot about it or saw that moment as a funny story to share over drinks with friends, but it’s different for the wing spiker. He knows it shouldn’t be, yet here he is, replaying every minor interaction between the two of you. There was a reason for him keeping his distance from you when you first started: you both stick to your tasks during practice and games, only interacting when progress and strategy are the focus. Otherwise, the athlete is back in whatever vacant corner he can find, shrinking his almost 6’’4 frame as much as he can in hopes that he can avoid possible interactions. (And if that means he gets to watch you laugh at something Atsumu said or go over strategy with Meian, then those times in his hiding spot have come with new benefits.)
But he’s not in a corner right now: he’s at Onigiri Miya with his team and EJP Raijin, eyes boring into your frame as his cousin says something he doesn’t quite catch. 
The ravenette hums. “What was that?”
“Your new manager’s pretty cute and all,” Komori starts, not too loudly for others to hear, “but if you keep staring at her, you’re going to look like some creep.” Sakusa’s head snaps to the libero, who sheepishly smiles as he scratches the back of his neck. “I mean, I get that you were never all that good with girls, but even you should know this stuff by now.”
The wing spiker scoffs at his cousin’s joke, opting to take a bite out of his onigiri instead of replying. You’re listening to whatever story the blonde Miya twin has to share, laughing whenever the younger one butts in with commentary to embarrass the former. Now you watch in amusement as the two lookalikes bicker, and it makes Sakusa realize something: besides the few moments he recalls oh-so fondly, you don’t interact with each other much outside of volleyball. 
He glides his thumb across the nori on his food in irritation. The moments shared between you rarely involve anything outside of the sport. For someone as observant as him, the ravenette is almost ashamed he let his very few one-on-one memories of you two distract him from such an obvious (and somewhat embarrassing) fact. 
You’ve probably spent more time with a handful of his other teammates. Sakusa recalls Bokuto and Hinata inviting you to a movie marathon at the latter’s place on your day off, though through all that excitement exchanged between them, all he could do was mutter under his breath about them wasting your time. It probably doesn’t matter whether or not you accepted their offer; they still approached you. 
The same goes for whatever Atsumu says to you that makes you two snicker under your breaths. Inside jokes, Sakusa is sure of it, though it doesn’t make him scoff any less. If anything, his mood grew sour with every interaction you had that wasn’t with him. Another fact he wasn’t aware of until the blonde setter asked him if the stick up his ass was bigger than it used to be. (The wing spiker’s response to the harmless joke needn’t be shared.)
“Just talk to her.” Komori’s voice brings Sakusa back to Onigiri Miya. Staring; again. Lovely. The ravenette faces his cheerful cousin once more, who offers a chuckle. “I’ll even play wingman if you want.”
The quieter of the two finishes his onigiri before getting up from his seat. The libero watches as his relative puts his MSBY jersey on before heading for the exit. “I’m good, thank you.”
The ravenette risks a glance your way once he makes it to the door. You don’t meet his gaze, still occupied with the twins. No surprise there, but that doesn’t stop the disappointment plunging into his chest as he exits the shop.
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That one-sided has seemingly returned since then, though the roles are reversed. Even with the few moments exchanged between you two, Sakusa struggles to pinpoint when he started to care for your attention in the several months you’ve been part of the team. The days when he felt indifferent involved less overthinking and even lesser restless nights; now, he can’t stop nitpicking at whatever detail catches his eye. You styled your hair differently one day; you’re snacking on cheesecake-flavoured Kitkat because it’s your new favourite snack. These notes follow up with nothing on his end except an extra bullet point in his brain’s buzzing list. 
It’s a winter evening when he adds his first crucial fact: your home address. An abyss swallows the sky at what seems to be only half past five. Not a usual time for practice, though nothing that disrupted Sakusa’s schedule. He’s making his way to his car when he sees you standing aside, eyes glued to your phone. A rare sight, though not an unwelcomed one. 
You’re frowning, the wing spiker notices. He’s approaching you, he notices too little too late. You notice him. 
“Oh, Sakusa!” you smile, pocketing your device. “Good work today.” The ravenette doesn’t need his mask to hide his contentment at your praise, though the pride that swells inside him grows challenging to swallow. “Off home to relax?”
His tongue rests between his teeth as he nods, and you hug your coat tighter to your body. His brain screams to carry on a conversation, no matter how small or meaningless, but his eyes seem to do enough as they rake through the parking lot. He’s looking for your car, he realizes, but has no clue as to what it looks like. 
“Had to bus here,” you explain sheepishly. Sakusa watches you from the corner of his eye, internally sighing in relief at your (alleged) mind-reading powers. “My car needs fixing, and with practice taking place later on in the day, finding a bus worked better.” Your gaze trails to the streets only a few meters away, exhaustion making them droop. “Guess my supposed ride is being held back, huh?”
“Let me take you home.” 
Your head snaps in the wing spiker’s direction, whose eyes slightly widen in shock at his proposition. Now he decides to talk. He digs his nails into the strap of his gym bag, jaw clenching as he tries to appear calm as he awaits your response.
Your brows crease ever so slightly. “I wouldn’t want to cause you any trouble.”
Your voice shrinks at your concern. Sakusa imagines you shrinking under his gaze as well. “You never cause me any trouble.”
Not how he would’ve liked to word it, but it’s too late to take it back. You beam at him, offering your thanks and letting him know you owe him as you step closer to his tall frame. He doesn’t flinch away, instead facing the parking lot once more as he chews on his bottom lip under his mask.
The car ride holds silence throughout the fifteen-to-twenty minutes on his end, with you giving the ravenette directions and discussing the team’s progress. He only offers curt nods and soft hums, not that he minds this time; your sunny tone and presence in such a closed space were more than enough for him. Besides, his brain is occupied with carrying your guidance as you get closer to your destination. Because he’s the driver, and you ought to return home safely. It’s been a long day for both of you: you’re exhausted, and you don’t hide this fact as you slump in the passenger seat and sometimes yawn. 
And when you finally tell Sakusa to pull up into your driveway, he can’t help but scan your home with his eyes, wondering which windows expose which room. He sees one with lavender curtains from the interior, and he’s willing to bet that’s your bedroom. 
You thank him, and the thought evaporates. He’s tongue-tied once more; he nods, unlocking the passenger door. Offering one more smile, you exit the car, and the wing spiker’s eyes bore into your frame as you walk up your porch and enter your home. 
He’s backing out of the driveway when he begins to wonder if there is something different he could have done. The small talk was calming, but he found that he wanted more. 
The drive back consists of Sakusa glancing over at where you sat every chance he got. He swallows harshly, fingers tapping impatiently against the steering wheel at a red light. Even with practice done a while ago, he feels hot. His clothes hug him uncomfortably, and it isn’t until his brain entertains the idea of peering down does he understand why. 
He recognizes this street. The ravenette pulls over to a secluded area, quick to unbuckle his seatbelt before throwing his mask off. His chest heaves as he slowly looks down once more as if the first time was just a trick of the lights. 
He’s hard. Being alone with you for less than half an hour is enough to make him fucking hard.
He’s also alone. For a second, he recalls keeping a pack of tissues in the glove compartment. 
He’s also in his car. His home is not too far from yours, he noticed as you gave him directions. 
You were also in his car. The passenger seat pulls Sakusa’s gaze towards it. He’s leaning into where you sat not long ago, and if he focuses hard enough, he can catch a whiff of your perfume.
His cock stirs in his slacks, and the ravenette climbs over the gear shift before his brain can reason with his body. 
The passenger’s seat is still a bit warm, he notices upon making himself comfortable in his new spot. The wing spiker shakily exhales as he unzips his pants with great haste, shimmying them down to his thighs. His pace doesn’t slow down when he gets to his briefs, either, opting to tuck the waistband between his balls and dick’s base to free his shaft of its confinements. Only then does he pause, breathing still trembling as he tries to calm himself. 
There’s not much time. An empty parking lot when he got there, but it won’t stay that way forever. Sakusa spits into his palm, needing some makeshift lube to start slowly stroking himself. The relief has his eyes fluttering closed and lips parting with a sigh. It isn’t long until he feels some precum sliding down from his slit, and he spreads the stickiness to help with his movements. He takes a deep breath through his nose and again catches your scent. 
What if it was your hand pumping his cock instead? It should be. You’d be smiling as you do so, peering up at the wing spiker through your lashes as you ask him how he likes it. Always there to help during practice; how is this any different? You want what’s best for the team, for him. Anything for him—
Sakusa’s choking on a groan as he paints his hand and the glove compartment a creamy white. He doesn’t open his eyes until his high finally descends him back to earth, where he realizes what he’s done. 
He groans, in both exhaustion and disgust from the mess in his car and thoughts. He was a teenager when he lasted this long, though the quantity of his release takes him by surprise. Has he truly been pent up for too long? Did you do this?
Sakusa’s quick to take out that tissue pack. 
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You thank him for the ride home once more the next time you see each other at practice. Other than that, the wing spiker continues to keep his distance. Mainly due to the shame that follows remembering what he’s done after dropping you off, but the one time you two shared eye contact for more than a few seconds when you handed him a towel during a break brought another feeling into the mix: excitement. What for, Sakusa has yet to find out. Or maybe he’s trying to avoid that explanation. Like any minute, you’ll tell him, you know, eyelids heavy as the emphasis tells him more than enough of what you’re talking about. The thought makes his lower stomach churn in an agonizing blender. Then, you’ll pull him into the storage closet, where you’ll—
Say his name. Well, no. Not you. Someone else is saying it. Again and again. 
The ravenette blinks back into the real world, masking his fantasy with a blank slate for a face as he turns to look at whoever could need something from him.
“Oh, so yer awake?” Atsumu. Of course. “Still got some energy in me, and I need t’kill a bit of time. Wanna set fer ya fer a bit.”
The grin the faux blonde offers isn’t reciprocated as Sakusa notices front the corner of his eye some of his teammates entering the changeroom. A part of him wants nothing more than to follow them, the clothes clinging to his body from all the sweat making him internally recoil as he wishes for a shower. He also knows this is an opportunity to improve without you there: as much as he enjoys your presence, you become a distraction as a drawback. 
The wing spiker sighs. “Only for a little bit.”
Atsumu beams at his teammate’s (albeit reluctant) acceptance, already jogging to fetch a ball to begin.
Sakusa finds his focus coming back with every spike he lands on the other side of the court, slowly but surely returning to normal. Another way to release some steam; he tries not to cringe at the memory of the other tactic from the night before. 
The attempt fails as soon as you enter the gym with Meian by your side. The two of you are speaking to each other—about what, the ravenette isn’t sure. He doesn’t get a chance to listen in, anyway.
“Nice kill!” Atsumu chirps, gaining the attention of not just his teammate, but his captain and manager as well. With a final nod, you and Meian go your separate ways; him towards the changeroom and you, the other two athletes. 
“Don’t push yourselves too much, guys,” you chuckle. “You already worked hard during practice. Take the time to relax as well.”
Sakusa can barely give you a nod while the setter grins at you. 
“I’m gonna get cleaned up before we head out, ‘kay?” The wing spiker’s head snaps towards his teammate with a raised brow. Neither you nor the faux-blonde acknowledge his confusion. 
You smile. “Take your time. I’ll just put the net and volleyballs away while you’re at it.”
Atsumu nods before slapping Sakusa’s back and jogging to the changeroom. The ravenette can only look down at a stray ball and pick it up. He remembers enjoying the silence between him and whoever he was with. 
“I’ll help,” he mutters, walking away before he can witness your reaction. It’s ridiculous, like some middle school crush: wanting nothing more than to be close to you, but freezing up as soon as it happens. And he can’t avoid you forever–he doesn’t want to–because you eventually meet him at the ball cart, dropping the armful of volleyballs into it. “What was that with Miya earlier?”
His voice finds itself whenever he’d rather it didn’t. He’s curious, sure, but he didn’t need his tone to give away his distaste. He can only hope you dismiss it as Sakusa being Sakusa and nothing more. 
With the small smile you give him, the ravenette is certain he’s safe. “Oh, ‘Tsumu invited me to check out this restaurant that recently opened with him after practice. Heard they made some of my favourites there, and I wanted to try them ASAP.”
Sakusa pretends that you being on a first-name basis with the setter doesn’t bother him. He doesn’t respond to your explanation and remains silent as he brings the net down with your help. The next time he acknowledges you is before he rushes to the changeroom to shower, ignoring Atsumu as they cross paths.
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He’s at the wrong house. 
You’d think one knew the directions to the place they called home, yes? At the very least, have an idea of the area. Yet, it’s only until your driveway makes it to his peripheral vision does the ravenette realize his mistake. And he’s just in time to watch you walk up your porch. 
After another restless night, the wing spiker needed to clear his head. His home brought him no distractions, already too tidy to clean, and his mind continuously drifted away when watching recordings of volleyball matches. With a day to himself, he might as well go around town—there’s a mall not too far from his place, he recalls. It was a better attempt at keeping him occupied, though he couldn’t help it when he passed a perfume shop and wondered what scent was your favourite. Or the neighbouring lingerie store, putting whatever scandalous pieces of lace out on display, giving the athlete’s spiralling mind suggestions on what you would look best in. (White, he concluded before processing.) 
He didn’t want much, nor did he need much. More or less satisfied with his purchases (and dissatisfied with failing distractions), he’s in his car, ready to head back home. 
But he’s not home. Or rather, his house. The latter is a mere building; the former, a sense of comfort. And while there’s guilt bubbling in his chest, witnessing you carry on with your everyday life has him relaxing in his seat.
You were on an errand run, Sakusa observes. Groceries, from what he sees. What would you be making for dinner tonight? He’s too far away to catch what exactly is in your bags. The weather’s fallen to a frigid slumber—stew, perhaps? Or maybe you’ll make some umeboshi—those appeared to be your favourite whenever the team stopped by at Onigiri Miya. He and his teammates have had the opportunity to try some of your cooking firsthand; the ravenette is positive whatever you make will be just as delicious.
Then he remembers yesterday’s interaction, and his grip on the steering wheel tightens. Where did you two go? And when did Atsumu get so comfortable with you to take you out? You seemed content and—
And getting angry during this opportunity won’t do him any good. Surprised, Sakusa manages to calm down a little, opting to distract himself with other scenarios.
What could you two eat together? What would you serve him? He lets his thoughts waltz. The two of you share a meal after a long practice, or maybe you cook together on your day off. He’s seen a few romance movies in his life; he can imagine hugging you from behind as you prepared the food, him nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck as you both talked about whatever was on your mind. The conversation would continue as the two of you ate at the dinner table, his hand itching to find yours across from him. 
And for dessert, he’d have you sitting on the kitchen counter with your legs wide open as he ravaged what’s in between them, your hands clawing at his dark curls as his greed controls his tongue. Or, maybe you’re feeling extra generous and decide to help him relax after a tiring practice, lowering to your knees to take every inch of his—
You’re struggling to open your front door. Too many bags in your hands—the wing spiker has half a mind to get out of the car and help you. As crazy as you drive him, he still has some sense to remind him that whatever excuse he has to be in your neighbourhood won’t be convincing, even from him. And with the evergrowing tightness in his pants, he has another problem he can’t hide. Worse, he doesn’t feel as bad as he used to anymore.
You finally manage to get inside, and the athlete starts the engine to find a secluded area once again.
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Sakusa has to refrain from spiking the ball at the faux-blonde’s face in the following practice. A match among teammates, and noticing the setter’s little pep in his step upon entering the gym that morning had the ravenette glaring hard. A part of him was relieved being on Atsumu’s opposing team, doubting he could work alongside him for the day. 
For now, the wing spiker aims his spikes at the older Miya twin. Anyone could view the action as part of his strategy; aiming for the setter to prevent them from setting is an old trick in the book, but still in the book. 
“Damn it, Omi!” Atsumu exclaims in frustration after not properly receiving Sakusa’s spike. “Quit pickin’ on me! Ma arms are gonna fall off!”
A twinge of satisfaction plucks at the ravenette’s chest from the outcry, though he masks it with a huff before walking back to his position. His eyes automatically make their way to your form on a bench, keeping track of the points while scribbling some notes whenever possible. You don’t catch his gaze, seemingly occupied with whatever’s on your clipboard. The lack of attention makes Sakusa frown, as he had hoped you’d see him on his little winning streak. 
It doesn’t stop him. If anything, it adds fuel to the fire, the flicker of pride from before blooming into something dangerous. 
His plan doesn’t change: Atsumu will remain his target until he decides otherwise. The next time he’s given a chance to spike, his eyes make the mistake of gluing themselves to his victim. Barnes quickly steps in front of the faux-blonde’s spot, flinching from the impact but still blocking the ball perfectly. 
It’s just one point, one that he can easily take back. Still, Sakusa can’t help but aim his glare at the setter on the other side of the net, something that doesn’t go unnoticed. A hand lands on the wing spiker’s shoulder, snapping him out of his spiralling daze. 
“Take a seat, Sakusa.” Meian’s expression appears relaxed, though there’s a rough edge to his tone telling him it’s not a suggestion.
The bench you’re sitting on is opposite his team’s side of the court. Had that not been the case, the ravenette would try to take the opportunity to sit with you, even if words wouldn’t be exchanged. Instead, he settles onto a bench too far from you for his liking. Even if he were to try and take a peek at you, players from the other team block you from his vision, what with their constant moving. 
He’s observing their movements; anyone can assume that. Sakusa can no longer remember the time he’d do something like that unless he was watching videos of matches at home. If he’s not keeping the ball in the air on his side of the court, then he’s scavenging for a chance to even be reminded of your existence: you handing the athletes water and towels, the captain calling your name to gain your attention. Anything will do. So no matter the frustration that comes with the package, he’ll find a way to catch you. 
It isn’t until he watches you rise from the bench does Sakusa realize that practice is done for the day. He didn’t notice his teammates walking away from the court and giving him a clearer view of your frame; he was glad he could see you at all. His posture straightens as he watches you approach Atsumu, and his hands ball into fists when you rest your hand on the faux-blonde’s arm. Whatever you two may be discussing, the ravenette can only assume it has to do with his teammate being on the receiving end of his pent-up aggression. 
Your conversation ends short and sweet, with you walking towards the storage closet. Sakusa’s only half-listening to his captain when he asks if everything is okay with him. Meian is offered an unenthusiastic response of “Everything is fine” before the younger athlete stalks away.
You’re struggling to roll out the ball cart from its spot when the wing spiker enters the storage closet. He doesn’t hesitate to approach you from behind and grip the handle about an inch away from your hold. You gasp, jolting back slightly before turning your head to face the brooding ravenette. 
“You startled me, Sakusa,” you sigh, clutching your chest. “Is there something I can help you with?”
Always so eager to please, aren’t you? The wing spiker has to refrain from smirking at the thought. 
Still, he ignores your question. “The wheels on this cart have been acting up lately.” With newfound confidence, he places his free hand on your shoulder to gently pull you out of the way for him to yank the cart. It jerks out of its place with a loud screech, and you wince. “You just need to give it a tug. Until it’s fixed, anyway.”
Sakusa looks down at the cart upon realizing this is probably the most words he’s spoken to you without having you carry the conversation. 
You grip the handle after a few seconds of silence. Your voice, suddenly meek, shakes as you thank him. He’s blocking your way; nothing you need to point out to him, but your silence says plenty. His feet stay planted on the ground, and your loss of confidence makes his cock stir in his pants. 
“You were pretty tough out there earlier,” you point out. The wing spiker knows you purposefully left out who he was giving a hard time. He also knows, based on your concerned tone, that you’re asking him for an explanation. 
You aren’t offered a response. Sakusa only takes his time turning his head to peer at you, the darkness of the storage closet and the way his black curls frame his stoic face giving him an intimidating aura. But what has you subconsciously shrinking into your corner are the onyx caskets for irises boring into your frame, beckoning you to crawl into the empty pools of demise. 
“I have to be if I want to win,” is his response before finally leaving you be, exiting the changeroom with the same intensity you witnessed mere seconds ago.
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He’s back: closer. 
Parking his car nearby doesn’t cut it for him anymore. Sakusa doesn’t think it ever did. With the amount of patience lost for every practice with his team, the initial distance was just a formality. 
Now, his car hides nearby as he approaches your home, giving a quick yet thorough peek over his shoulder to make sure he’s in the clear.
It took him the third visit to learn where you hid your spare key, having seen you take it out from under the cushion of a little bench on your porch. And luckily for him, it hasn’t left its spot. 
Even with his morals flying out the window, the wing spiker neatly places his coat, scarf and boots aside after removing them, then ponders over his leather gloves until ultimately deciding to keep them on. He eyes the spare slippers by the entrance before concluding they won’t be necessary (for this visit, anyway).
Based on the house’s layout, it shouldn’t take long for Sakusa to find your bedroom. But it’s not going anywhere, and neither are you. Why not get to know you via your home?
It’s a small house: one story and cozy. The ravenette wonders how you afforded it, even with your salary. With how minimal the style appears, he can only assume most of your income went into the building itself. Would it be too much for him to buy you things for the interior? As a gift, perhaps when the occasion calls for it. 
Then again, is he really in any position to ask himself about doing too much? He almost chuckles at the thought. 
A quick yet thorough tour of your home gives him a more detailed layout, though he’d love to stay longer had he had the time. Or better yet, your company. As satisfied as he was to find your living room and kitchen tidy–and by his standards no less–he’s not done getting to know you. 
People don’t really need an exploration of the bathroom. It’s as clean as any other room, though it’s a cast-aside note when his eyes land on your laundry basket. Half full, too. Squatting closer to the dirty pile, a subtle yet musky scent hits his nose. Sakusa almost groans, cock stirring in his slacks; for such a clean freak, he’s never been more excited.
His eyes scan the basket’s contents, eventually landing on flimsy lace. Part of him wishes he wasn’t sporting gloves for the occasion, but he doesn’t let that stop him as he picks up the article of clothing. Underwear, of course it is, and a flattering magenta nonetheless. You wear this to practice? Or are there other times you put it on? Do you have a matching bra? The wing spiker can’t find anything in the basket, though he’s sure–no, he knows–you’d wear it like it was made for you. 
Are you wearing something similar right now?
The ravenette stands from his position, pocketing the lacy undergarment before exiting the bathroom. Consider it a welcoming gift. 
Again, it doesn’t take long for him to find your room. Being in such an intimate location is a different experience compared to looking in as an outsider. Everything is you: the way you organized your shelves and vanity, the colour palette—your scent is more prominent here. Sakusa doesn’t catch his eyes fluttering shut until he distinctly hears shifting. 
To his right, you lay on your mattress, your sheets messily hanging off parts of your body. You’re barely a silhouette in his eyes; the moonlight stalking past the crack between your curtains is the only thing helping the ravenette navigate your room. Parts of the glow highlight a bit of your face, though a shimmer from the light’s reflection teases his peripheral vision. 
You have a bookcase headboard, and on it lays a necklace in its case. Nothing fancy; a golden heart hanging off a thin chain. It’s more the note next to its box that catches the ravenette’s eye:
Thought this would look good on you ;) Hope you like it!
— Tsumu (your favourite setter <3)
If it weren’t for the fact that you’d notice, Sakusa would crumble that note and follow up with the faux-blonde’s neck. When did you get this? He surely would’ve noticed if you received it during practice. 
There’s a good chance the setter gave it to you before or afterwards. The wing spiker’s aware that the two of you spent time together outside of training, though for it to happen enough times that Atsumu found it appropriate to give you a gift as intimate as a heart-shaped necklace has the ravenette glaring at the piece of jewellery. (As open as his teammate may be, Sakusa doubts he’d buy something like that for someone after a single meet-up.)
He hears a sigh: yours. Your body shifts in its spot again, opting to lay on your back. The wing spiker freezes for the slowest seconds his alarmed brain can count, only to relax once you stay in your new spot.
They say an average of eight spiders crawl into your mouth yearly while you sleep. A myth, of course, but maybe that’s what we tell ourselves to ease the paranoia. Maybe, that’s what he is, Sakusa thinks; a spider. Soundless, observant—he’s certainly made himself at home. 
Maybe not, he reconsiders. Most people would carefully trap the eight-legged creature before bringing it outside. Or kill it; no mercy necessary. You have yet to do either. 
Then again, you aren’t like most people. Not in his eyes, anyway. No, his eyes entertain themselves with your every move, and no matter how deep those holes in the side of your head are, you don’t catch his stare. Whatever he may be, he’s always the perfect distance to observe you.
Sakusa’s brain buzzes mindlessly as his hands draw closer to your form, long fingers pinching the hem of your pyjama shirt before lifting the material. No bra: not a surprising observation, what with your nipples poking at the fabric from the cold. Even with how dark it is, the ravenette salivates from the sight, his cock stirring in his pants. He’s grateful for the lack of witnesses, though it’s still embarrassing to be as affected as he is. You’re not even fully nude. Yet.
He waits for a reaction. Other than you moving in your sleep, the wing spiker receives nothing. He exhales through his nose, never thinking that gaining the knowledge about you being a heavy sleeper early on would be an advantage for him. His fingers twitch before slowly landing on your stomach. Again, no reaction; he then lays his palms to join the digits. With a deep and shaky breath, the ravenette glides his hands up your torso until they reach your breasts. 
They feel perfect in his grasp, even with the thick layer of the leather gloves creating that barrier. Your face scrunches when he gives your mounds a light squeeze, though you remain asleep. As deep of a sleeper as you may be, one wrong move could ruin everything. Sakusa gulps, dragging his middle finger to flick at your nipple. A shaky breath from you is enough for him to shift into a more comfortable position on your bed before he continues his ministrations more confidently. 
He’s careful, he assures; eyes flickering from your chest to your face, reading your expressions to discover what you like and making sure you don’t wake up. All the while, the athlete tries to ignore the tightness of his pants, although watching you squirm beneath him because of his touch makes that a challenge. 
“Hnngh….”
It was barely audible, but enough to make the athlete stop everything. You’re still asleep, of course—he’s almost impressed, a bit jealous, even. Countless nights of insomnia on his side because of his fantasies playing on a loop, but yours give you a good night’s rest.
Regardless, the wing spiker gears to earn another reaction like that. Dipping his toes further into the water, he gets a little rougher, tweaking the sensitive buds between his covered fingers. Your back arches in his hold; more than enough confirmation for him. 
Shifting his position once more, Sakusa wraps his lips around one of your nipples, dragging his tongue against it while groping the other breast. You whimper when he begins sucking: a shallow sound, but it travels down to his crotch. He already has to deal with the embarrassment of finishing early because of you; if he cums in his pants without any stimulation, you’ll surely be the death of him.
He can’t rely on you being a deep sleeper forever: the wing spiker must work quickly. Pulling away from your chest, Sakusa brings his attention to the lower half of your body. His hands glide down to your hips, hooking his index fingers past the elastic waistband. He wonders whether he should take his time removing the article of clothing or pull them down in one motion. You help him make a quick decision when your leg accidentally brushes against his hard-on. And while he refrains from letting out a groan, his hands make fast work of harshly tugging your pants to your knees. 
Silence: not a sound from you, not a breath from him. Your thighs clench momentarily out of reflex once the cool air hits the exposed skin. Not fast enough—Sakusa managed to catch a peek at your drooling cunt. And it isn’t until you finally relax again does he exhale with a light shiver from the sight. 
Now, with a clear view, the athlete reaches for his opportunity by swiping some of your essence and bringing that same finger to your clit. Your hips buck into his touch as he rubs slow but tight circles on the pearl, making his brows furrow in concentration and chest swell with pride. It isn’t long until he adds to his pace and slides a finger from his other hand into your sopping hole. Your thighs clench on impulse, a mewl leaving your throat as the air remains stuck in his. His movements are forced to a halt due to your hold, and it takes several seconds for you to settle. Do you enjoy the sturdy material of leather rubbing against your insides? Maybe you’re unaware of the answer, but God, wouldn’t the ravenette love to know.
Dipping his toes in the water is long out of the discussion; if anything, he’s in too deep, the water rising every second he proceeds. He might as well follow the rest of him down, no? Take that final gulp of air before dipping his head in and letting that frozen abyss swallow him.
Sakusa experimentally wiggles his finger inside you and, after gaining no reaction, slides in another. With how wet you already were, it doesn’t take much effort on his part. You gasp, but your eyes stay closed. Even with his morality slipping away each day he sees you, the wing spiker still finds himself surprised (and grateful) that you can sleep through his actions. He wonders how far he can go. 
The longer and deeper he pumps his digits inside you, the more reactions he earns from you. The squelching noises between your legs also become louder, especially with the leather material of his gloves. He’s no longer worried, just curious about what sounds and expressions he can pull out of you. 
A particular response tells him he’s found your sweet spot. With a drawn-out yet breathless wail, you lift your hips off the mattress once the ravenette prods at a certain part inside you. 
Where there is darkness, there is also light, and that’s exactly what could be said to describe the glimmer in his eyes upon discovering this hidden gem of information. He continues his ministrations, watching in fascination and lust as you grind into his touch. 
Meanwhile, his cock is begging to be released from its restraints, throbbing due to the display. Sakusa was hoping to hold out for a bit longer, mapping out your body in ways he hopes no one else has, but along with any logic and morality, his patience flies out the window. 
You whimper when the athlete slides his fingers out; he almost wants to coo, assure you that he’ll make you feel all better. He can’t, of course, so he opts to taste you, lick his digits clean of your slick. He’s certain he almost cums on the spot, your sweetness consuming his tastebuds (as well as a hint of bitter leather) and leaving its mark in his memories. The wing spiker’s eyes roll to the back of his head as he tries to refrain from groaning. 
When his gaze returns to your form, he’s swift with your pants, further sliding them down before doing the same to himself. Having his cock out of its confinements already does plenty for him, but not enough. Sakusa recalls how your cunt squeezed his fingers, practically sucking them in. You were warm, dripping, even with his gloves in the way. And with how eager he is to have you make a mess on his dick, he knows he’s no longer the same person he was before meeting you.
The athlete taps the tip of his cock against your clit a few times, just to watch you squirm, before sliding into your entrance. Only a few inches in, and he already has to dig his teeth into his bottom lip. None of this was a part of his plan—he’s not even sure he had one in the first place; he just needed to see you, feel your presence in some way, shape or form. And the latter is more than he could ever ask for, your insides hugging him just as tight as they did his fingers. The lack of a barrier is the icing on the cake. 
He’s bottomed out before he knows it, and Sakusa doesn’t know where to look: your face contorting from being filled to the brim or your cunt stretching open to accommodate his size. Either one intensifies the swirling of his lower stomach. All he can do for now is play with your clit until you appear to feel better. (And if that means you clench harder around him, then so be it. He’s come this far as is.)
After a few minutes, the wing spiker reels his hips back with a deep breath. His thrusts are gentle, as much of a challenge as it may be to hold back. He bites his bottom lip as he feels you hug every inch of his cock, threatening to milk him for all he’s worth when he’s barely begun. You’re so much better than his hand; no fantasy can compare. 
A few strokes in, and Sakusa’s restraint is thinning. Every time, he thrusts in a bit deeper, a bit faster, a bit harder. You’re quietly moaning between pants, your face twisting from a pained expression to one much lewder. Pretty lips parted with brows both furrowed and raised, you have the ravenette throwing his head back with a silent groan. 
Unfortunately for him, that’s when he catches sight of that damn necklace again. His grip on the sheets next to your head tightens, his thrusts sloppy as his mind races. What made Atsumu think he had the right? Does he think a necklace is all it’ll take to get you? Sakusa drops his head to glare daggers as you continue to mewl and whimper. What do you think is happening right now? Who are you thinking about right now? 
His mind keeps reeling, and the wing spiker fails to notice how he’s taking out his aggression in his thrusts.
Your whimpers grow to pathetic cries, tears forming in the corners of your eyes, and his hold on your sheets move to your wrists on instinct. With the mental spiral and physical force, the ravenette fails to notice your eyes shoot open.
Then, you gasp. “Sakusa!”
He hears the fear in your voice, no doubt. Yet, in a situation like this, with you beneath him, tears streaming down your cheeks as your sobbing and panting mix together, he can’t help but create a more beautiful scenario. You’re begging for him, his cock, needing him to fuck you stupid and fill you up to the brim, the pleasure so overwhelming that your nails are digging into his back, only his shirt shielding his skin from the potential marks. 
The athlete doesn’t think; he slams his lips against yours, his tongue quick to explore your mouth as his release hangs on to the edge. And when your pussy flutters around his dick, creams around it, it’s the push he needs. Hot spurts of cum paint your insides white as Sakusa kisses you harder, his hips stilling. Even as he groans against your mouth, he can hear your choked moans, and he never wants any of this to end. 
But that’s not how it works. Eventually, you both come down from your highs, his cock going soft and out of cum to give you. The wing spiker doesn’t pull out, but it doesn’t stop the white liquid from trying to seep out. It makes him shiver, slowly ending your kiss for you both to catch some air. The string of saliva connected to your lips that follows him as he sits up distracts him; something else to bind you two together. It’s messy, so so so messy. 
He loves it. 
You’re both breathing hard for the next several seconds, your terrified expression not faltering as your body trembles lightly. 
“Wha—How?” you gasp, sob, you’re not sure, and neither is he. He’s only half-listening, still floating on that release and too far away. “Sakusa, how did you get in?”
There they are again: those eyes. Empty pools, yet always full of judgement. Like you’re the crazy one. Tracing the river streams down your face and clumps of shields for lashes, they seemingly do more talking than his mouth. 
Then, Sakusa reaches a hand out to cup your cheek. You flinch, but it doesn’t stop him from wiping a stray tear. Even with your helpless sounds quieting down, the silence isn’t any less deafening. And when his voice, smooth and deep and a little too nonchalant, invades the room, you shiver.
“I was always here.”
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221bshrlocked · 1 year
Text
i remember...
Pairings: Captain Rex x afab! Jedi Reader
Words: 8579
Warnings: Angst with a happy ending. Mutual Pining. Some mention of blood loss but it’s not graphic. Love Confessions due to anesthesia-like fluids. I make up some random stuff about bacta so just ignore that bit please. Sad Rex. Heated Make-Out Session. Oral (female receiving). Squirting. Oversensitivity. Biting. Slight Dirty Talk. Penetrative, Unprotected Sex (wrap the shlong before you king kong my dudes). Breeding Kink. Creampie. Rex being a gentleman after sex. 
Summary: “You’re s-safe, thank the Force.” His hold on you tightens when you hiss in pain, but you never once turn away from him, wanting to commit every moment to memory. If you survive this, you are sure you will never come this close to him again. But if you die, oh, if you die, then you would have spent your last seconds showing him how much he means to you. 
A/N: This is for @imarvelatthestars​ who is also taking part in the @cloneficgiftexchange​. I hope you enjoy this and I can’t wait for you to read the two other fics as well. Also, hi it’s nice to meet you :) This was originally going to be just fluff but my hands slipped and they went all the way so I hope you don’t mind. P.S. This is the first time I write for our dear Captain so I hope I got his character down correctly. If not, please let me know how I can write him better. As always, reblogs are appreciated. 
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It was becoming unbearable, mustering up the courage to fight every day in a war that meant absolutely nothing, that held no benefits for anyone except for those in political standings. The feeling of dread only worsened in the past few months, almost as soon as you were added to the 501st as another General. Count Dooku’s thirst for blood has increased, and you had this fear that it wasn’t only him. No, there was something much bigger playing at hand. 
Perhaps someone even. 
Shaking the dreadful thoughts aside, you scan the grounds quickly to see if any of your men were still alive. As you walk through the carnage, you will yourself to come to terms with the reality of this new life that has been thrust upon you, the recognition that it was most likely worse for your men making you wince angrily before returning to the task at hand. 
“General,” the familiar voice of your Captain shifts your attention behind you, and you nod with an exasperation you’re sure is visible to him as you head towards his equally fatigued body. 
“Any news on whether Anakin managed to get the intel?” You rub the side of your temple as you wait for Captain Rex to focus on you instead of his dead brothers surrounding you. 
“He uh, he didn’t get there in time. He thinks one of the super tactical droids destroyed everything before it self-destructed.” You can hear the disappointment in his voice, and you look into his eyes for a moment to gauge his reaction. Grief swims in his eyes as he returns your gaze, and you hate that you don’t have to look at him to know what’s going through his mind. His Force signature is a cool shade of blue, one that parallels the lines adorning his armor, and your heart clenches when you see how different it is from the normally calming purple hue often surrounding him and setting your mind at ease. You’re reminded once again of just how much of a toll this war is taking on him and his brothers, and you turn away from him out of fear of bursting into tears and making matters worse. 
If only you could comfort him beyond what’s deemed appropriate. 
If only you could tell him how you feel. 
“Don’t worry General, we’ll get them next time.” You hate that he’s trying to make you feel better when it is you who should be offering him supporting words. No words manage to part your lips, and you hum at him as you kick one of the battle droids nearby, trying to distract yourself from pushing past those hidden boundaries and embracing him in an attempt to return those affections he so clearly pushed upon you. 
Just as you walk around him, you sense a strange feeling overtake your mind, and you glance to the side quickly, not really thinking of what you’re doing as you step in front of the Captain and activate your lightsaber. The sequence of the blaster shots drives your anger deeper, and you evade them to the best of your abilities, away from Rex and yourself until they each hit the battle droid attempting to kill you. 
Scanning the area one last time, your mouth runs dry when you turn around and watch pure and utter shock display as clear as daylight on your Captain’s features. Pushing the weapon back into the holster around your hips, you smile at him to let him know that he would always be safe with you, only to tilt your head in confusion when he doesn’t return the gesture. You follow his line of sight and watch as the adrenaline of the battle leaves your body and makes way for a searing hot pain shooting through your side. Pushing your palm against your hip, you take it away and find it laced with fresh blood.
“C-Commander?” 
In all the time you have spent with Rex, you have never once heard him display such unadulterated fear, not when he was near death all those months ago, nor when he thought there was no escape for him and his brothers after a particularly draining battle. 
“Rex.”
You whisper his name as you fall to your knees, but strong arms reach for you before you hit the ground, turning you over and pushing violently against the wound to prevent it from bleeding. 
“Kriff, why- why would you…you shouldn’t have-” He can’t get a single word out, and you try your best to set aside the pain shooting through your body so you can enjoy being in his arms. You feel your muscles give out, barely allowing you to reach up and caress his cheek. You don’t realize you’ve painted his beautiful skin with blood until you see tears rolling down his cheeks and stream a pink line to his chin. 
“You’re s-safe, thank the Force.” His hold on you tightens when you hiss in pain, but you never once turn away from him, wanting to commit every moment to memory. If you survive this, you are sure you will never come this close to him again. But if you die, oh, if you die, then you would have spent your last seconds showing him how much he means to you. 
“Stay with me, mesh’la.” He leans down and rests his forehead against your own, distracting you enough before he lifts you in his arms and runs to the nearest gunship. You clutch onto his shoulder like your life depends on it, unable to hold back from crying as each movement sends throbbing stabs down your spine and across your hip. You can faintly hear his apologies, and you rest your head against his shoulder to distract yourself once again. This close, you can smell his natural scent, and you shiver when you recognize how musky and sweet it is as it seeps through your senses. 
You think you hear him call for Kix, but you can’t stay awake for much longer, the blood loss and your body’s fatigued nature taking over as soon as you get on the gunship. Rex puts you down with ease, but he snaps your name harshly when he sees you shutting your eyes and going limp in his arms again. 
“Don’t close your eyes,” it’s his Captain voice, and you laugh at the demanding tone he’s aiming at you, only to cough violently and clutch at your side when your body jolts forward. 
“I thought I g-give the orders here?” He doesn’t bother to smile at you, and you hate that he knows you’re only trying to diffuse the tension. When you look up at him, you find him frowning down at you, the blue aura around him now turning even darker as he looks around to see if Kix is nearby. 
You gulp as the ship comes to life, and the harder you try to remain awake, the more tired your mind becomes. As you look around you, you find several of the men staring at you with worry etched on their features, and you feel a sense of peace wash over you at the thought of being so important to them. You can no longer keep yourself conscious, and just as you turn your head to the side and see Kix jumping into the gunship, you surrender to a deep sleep filled with midnight blue embraces and loving words. 
A bright light wakes you from your haze, and you flutter your eyes quickly to get used to the blinding rays shining down on you. You try to get up immediately but a hand to your shoulder keeps you laying down, and you look to the side to see Kix whispering calming words to you. 
“You nearly gave us a fright Commander,” he says after a while, and you look around to try and figure out where you are, only to find an extremely uncomfortable and worried Captain standing by your bed. 
“Rex…”
“What were you thinking, hmm?” He snaps harshly at you, making you furrow your eyebrows in curiosity before you turn to Kix. Before you can say anything, Kix walks around and pushes Rex’s chest, urging him to move back and calm himself. 
“You may be the Captain, but I outrank you here. I will not have you yelling at one of my patients. Understand?” His tone is firm, and you giggle at the thought of hearing one of Rex’s men not minding getting physical with him. 
“I…feel weird.” You sigh deeply and look down, only to see several tubes coming in and out of your skin. 
“That would be the Bacta IV. You weren’t doing so well Commander, a simple bacta patch wouldn’t have done the trick.” Kix removes himself from Rex but remains in between the two of you, checking on the needles one last time before moving to the other end of the room. You watch as he makes himself busy, and whatever conscious part of your mind thinks that he’s only pretending so he can give the two of you some privacy. 
“To answer your question Captain, I- uhhh…I wasn’t thinking.” You drag the sheets down your body, suddenly feeling flushed as Rex continues to stare at you with a fiery anger you never thought him capable of. 
“Actually, that’s…n-not true. I was thinking…but- you know what I mean.” You are not making much sense, and when Rex sighs before pulling up a chair to sit next to you, you smile at you and reach for his hand. He takes it reluctantly but never once looks at you. Neither of you say anything for a while, and you slowly begin to fall asleep when he continues to rub your wrist with his thumb. 
“What were you thinking mesh’la…”
It’s a rhetorical question, or at least, you would have recognized that it is had you been more aware and less drugged. You open your eyes and gaze into his own, finding them filled with unshed tears. He looks defeated, and you frown at him while you tug on his hand to bring him closer to you. 
“Don’t…don’t cry. It makes me sad to see you cry Rex.”
He chuckles then and you smile at him, rubbing the back of his hand in return to soothe him a little. 
“I was thinking of you, and- and how it would kill me if I were to lose you. I can’t lose you Rex, I- I would not survive another day without you…I love you too much to let you go.” You’re not sure why the room is suddenly silent. All you know is, Rex’s Force signature has turned a deep shade of red and his fingers stopped drawing patterns on your skin. You think you hear Kix turn around but you’re too busy looking into the Captain’s eyes to register anything that’s not him. 
“Mesh’la,” you want to ask him what the word means, but your eyes grow heavy yet again, and you rest your cheek on the pillow while gazing into his hazel, brown orbs. Before you can say anything else, you fall right back to sleep, completely missing Rex’s reaction to your confession and Kix’s reassurances that you were stable but required to rest further. 
You dream of a time filled with peace, of longing gazes and soft caresses. Your mind fills your heart with hopes and wishes, ones you pretend are not impossible to reach. Your heart, once guarding a close-kept secret, finally feels as light as a feather, and it clenches softly when it hears revelations of a similar love, words yo uneven thought would be reciprocated as desperately. 
It’s this last sensation that wakes you again, except this time, you’re less dazed than before but much more awake. Sitting up quickly, you study the room you’re in and take a few deep breaths to try and collect your bearings. 
“Commander, you’re safe. You’re alive and safe. Breathe, breathe for me.” You look up and watch as Kix guides you through breathing techniques, and only when you’re relaxed and aware of your surroundings do you finally notice the other figure standing nearby. 
“How long have I been out?” You ask as you look down and move the medbay gown to the side to see the wound. It’s fully healed and you throw Kix a quick glance, silently thanking him for everything that he has done for you. 
“Almost 22 hours, sir. It’s quite remarkable actually, most people would take much longer to heal, even with the bacta. Then again, you’re a Jedi after all.” He checks your vitals, not bothering to mention that Rex is in the room. When he’s sure you’re all clear, he steps aside and finishes some reports on his holopad. You look to your right and watch as Rex slowly approaches you, sitting down on a chair near your bedside and slowly reaching for your hand. You’re surprised by the gesture but don’t deny him, looking back to Kix to see if he is aware of what his Captain is doing. 
“How are you feeling?”
“Like a bantha ran me over,” you laugh at your own reply, but Rex doesn’t grace you with a hint of a smile. There is something nagging at the back of your mind, and you narrow your eyes at your joined hands, only to gasp lightly when he rubs your wrist and moves closer to you. If Kix notices what’s happening, he says nothing and turns around to give you some privacy. 
“Do you…do you remember anything?” Rex asks reluctantly, and you get the sense that he wants to tell you something but is holding back out of fear of your reaction. 
“I remember walking through the battle, and…and talking with you. I remember a droid trying to shoot at you but I took him down before he hurt you. And…I remember getting shot at.” You recollect the events of the last rotation to the best of your abilities, and when you stop speaking, you notice Rex’s aura shift to a cool haze once more. 
Kriff, what was it? 
“You don’t remember anything else?” He asks yet again, and you tilt your head to the side in confusion, his tone of voice bordering that of a man who has just lost everything he ever had. 
“I- I uhh…no. I don’t.” You shake your head several times to figure out if he was referring to anything specific. When you turn to Kix to ask him if he knows what his Captain is talking about, you notice an apologetic expression on his features, one that was not aimed at you but his brother. Before you can say anything, Rex lets go of your hands, making you wish you can give him whatever answer he was searching for. 
“I see,” it’s all Rex says before he stands up and pushes the chair back to the wall. You watch as he takes a stance and salutes you, his eyes never meeting your own again as he thanks you for saving him before running out of the room. You don’t turn away from the shut door until Kix walks by and checks your vitals again. 
There is so much you want to ask him, but knowing Kix, you get the sense that he wouldn’t tell you even if you begged. He was good at keeping secrets, always has been. 
“You’re cleared to leave General, though I do suggest you take it easy for the next few days. You may have physically healed but the psychological strain will take longer to get back to normal. Will you be needing any pain medication?” Kix asks as he takes out all of the needles and tubes from your arms, and you shake your head while you look up at him, hoping that you find whatever answer Rex was looking for swimming in his eyes. He avoids your gaze altogether, and you shut your eyes in irritation at the thought of upsetting Rex. 
Maker, what was it?
You do your best to not take your frustration out on Kix as you get dressed, and before you leave, you thank him for taking care of you for the past rotation. He offers you his best wishes before returning to his seat and you make your way back to your quarters in the Jedi Temple slowly, all the while trying to figure out what transpired that made Rex ask you several times if you remembered anything, but more importantly, what you could have possibly said that upset Rex so much and made him leave without sparing you a second glance. 
You keep to yourself as you head to your rooms, searching your mind for any clue as to what has happened after the battle. When you finally make it to the privacy of your space, you remove all of your clothes and go straight to the refresher, wanting to get rid of the blood and grime that has stuck to your skin for the past day. But no matter what you do, you can’t remember anything past the battlefield, and you feel your mind almost collapse on itself when the annoyance of memory loss turns into sheer anger. 
Force above, what was it?
It occurs to you much later than you would care to admit that there was no way you can recall anything if you’re this unstable, and against your better judgment, you make your way to one of the meditation rooms instead of getting some rest as Kix suggested. As soon as you enter the quiet place, you move near one of the fountains, finding the consistent sound of water soothing to your soul. As you sit down, you take a few deep breaths and clear your mind of anything not related to the Captain of the 501st. 
As you initially thought, it’s much more difficult to focus your mind when all you can feel is guilt for making Rex feel so disappointed and sad. You recall back all of the conversations you’ve held with him, especially the ones that lasted for an entire night as you kept watch before a serious battle. You remember the snide remarks aimed at Anakin, and the jokes he often laughed at the expense of Ahsoka. You remember and remember…
But no matter what you think of, you still can’t quite figure out what happened in the past rotation. 
Willing yourself to focus harder, you decide to empty your mind altogether, even of those moments with Rex that you cherished and kept closely-guarded within your heart. 
The Coruscanti sun slowly moves past the horizon but you remain seated against the flowing waters, pleading with the Force to give you a sliver of a hint so you can fix whatever wrong you made against Rex. 
It’s only when your senses finally still do you see a faint dark red pass through your mind’s eye. You zero in on the memory, pushing yourself past your levels of comfort to seek out the desperate aura once again. 
I was thinking of you.
Your voice rings through your mind, not sounding normal to your ears, but you are confident it is your own. Clenching your fists tightly, you seek out the memory until it flashes before your eyes as clear as the searing Twin Suns on a hot Tatooine day. 
I can’t lose you Rex.
A faint sensation passes down your arm to your wrist, and you feel Rex’s thumb halt in its movement the more you reveal to him your secret. You can see his hands shaking as you pull him closer to you, the words spilling from your mouth making your heart skip a beat as realization washes over you. 
I love you too much to let you go.
The last image flashing before your eyes is the look of utter shock that befalls Rex’s handsome features, and had it not been for the soft manner in which he whispers that one word to you in return, you would think he was completely repulsed by what you just confessed to him. 
You open your eyes instantly, wincing yet again when your senses become overloaded with the sounds and scents all around you. Looking around the room, you take a few minutes to come to terms with the reality of what has transpired between yourself and the Captain. 
Maker. 
You had told him what you promised yourself you would never reveal to him. 
In a moment of weakness, your heart decided to reveal its deepest secret instead of continuing to keep it hidden. 
Looking outside the large glass windows, you notice how dark it became outside and curse yourself for taking so long to remember. It would be inappropriate to go to him now.
You look down to your hand and trace the skin Rex has touched all those hours ago, smiling to yourself when you recognize that your heart has already made the decision for you. 
Not caring for how mad you must look, you race outside of the meditation rooms and run through the hallways of the Temple, ignoring the strange and concerning looks from the others still awake as you make it past the gates of your home and towards the barracks of the 501st Legion. It is raining uncontrollably outside, and you nearly lose your footing a few times as you run across the grounds towards the familiar building near the Jedi Temple. You see a handful of men hanging outside the barracks, and they try to call out to you to see if you need any assistance, but you pay them no mind, heading straight to the quarters of the Captain and ignoring how soaked you’ve become in your journey to him. 
When you reach the hallways housing the Clone leaders, you slow down and move past the doors silently, praying to the maker that he was in his quarters and not elsewhere. As you reach the end of the hallway, you come to a stop in front of the large, steel doors housing Rex, and before you can think twice of what you’re doing, you push a few buttons on the pad beside the doors, waiting patiently for them to slide open to you. 
There is a faint sound of frustrated sighs from behind the door, and you nearly laugh at the sudden turn of events, but the doors slide open and reveal an extremely tired and irritated Clone Captain, one that had just gotten out of the showers from the looks of it. 
“Fives, if I have to tell you one more time- kriff, G-General!” His eyes widen in horror at the sight of you, and he walks out to the hallway to see if there are any signs of danger that led you to him. When he finds it as empty as ever, he turns back around and eyes you suspiciously. 
“General, what- what are you doing here?” Rex asks, continuing to avoid your gaze as he moves back to his quarters and tugs you along with him. You realize too late that you probably shouldn’t be found at such an odd hour in your Captain’s private rooms, but you brush the thought aside, knowing that this could not wait for another time. You don’t respond right away though, and Rex studies you slowly before moving to his dresser and taking out a pair of sweatpants and a shirt. 
“Here, change into these.” He throws the articles of clothing towards you, but you throw them back on the bed instantly, approaching him slowly to avoid scaring him. 
“Captain.” You try to catch his attention, but Rex is adamant on not sparing you a single glance, moving to the other end of the room and grabbing one of his shirts before putting it on quickly. 
“I don’t mind General,” he attempts to distract you, and you shake your head at him while following him around the small room. 
“Captain, please.”
“You’re going to catch a cold, and I’m not going to hear the end of it from Kix.” Rex ignores whatever you’re saying and rubs his temples furiously, making you wish he would just look at you instead of avoiding you as if you were just another commanding officer. 
As if you hadn’t spilled your heart out to him a day ago. 
Your frustrations nearly get to you, but you quickly come to understand that the man in front of you would continue ignoring your pleas if you didn’t cut to the chase and tell him what you came here for. 
“I remember.” 
Rex stops in his pacing, dropping his arms to his side and looking at the gray wall ahead of him. He doesn’t move a muscle, and your heart skips a beat when the hue around him turns into that familiar shade of burgundy once more, the same one that graced your sight when you told him how much you love him. 
“I remember, Rex.”
You repeat your words and watch as he slowly turns around and meets your eyes in a heated gaze. He continues to remain silent and you take the chance to step closer to him, hoping that he doesn’t get spooked by your revelation and walk away again. 
“You- you remember?” His question is laced with a faltering anxiety that you hate you’ve caused him to feel, and you close the last bit of space between the two of you, smiling at him as you reach for his hand and rub your thumb over his wrist. 
“I remember…I remember everything Rex.” 
He gulps down at you, watching carefully as you extend his wrist up to your mouth and lay the softest of kisses across the sensitive skin beneath your thumb. His sharp intake of breath sends a shiver down your spine, and before you can say anything else, Rex pushes you back against the nearest wall and attacks your lips in a desperate kiss. You moan into him immediately, throwing your arms around his shoulders just as he leans down and grabs your hips to hoist you up in between his rigid body and the solid wall behind you. 
You part your lips in a gasp and Rex takes advantage of your shock, sneaking his tongue into your mouth and devouring you without a care for anything except the lewd noises you are gracing him with. He doesn’t know where he can touch you, but as he feels your nail sink into his neck, he breaks the kiss and moans your name over and over again, giving you but a moment of respite before lunging for your mouth once again. You’re soaking wet, and you want to warn him so he doesn’t get wet as well, but he doesn’t let up once, moving down your jaw and licking the droplets of water sticking to your skin. His tongue feels hot against your already flushed skin, but you can’t find it in yourself to complain, not when you finally had him in your arms, stealing your breath with such needy kisses. You don’t realize you’re crying until he pulls away abruptly and looks at you with concern. 
“No, please…don’t stop. I’m just- I’m so happy.” You try to bring him back again but he’s much stronger than you, keeping some bit of distance between your mouth until he can ask you that burning question. 
“Are you sure I’m not hurting you, mesh’la?”
“No, gods no. I never thought you’d reciprocate my feelings Rex, and- and when I remembered the way you looked at me, I…I ran over here.” Your smile grows when you notice the soft smirk gracing his handsome features, and you lean your forehead against his own briefly to relish in the moment. 
“I love you, cyare…so damn much. I- I thought I lost you back there…couldn’t, couldn’t believe what you did for me. And then you told me why and I nearly lost my mind all over again.” He lays as many kisses as possible across your entire face, making you sniffle each time he reveals to you what was going through his mind. 
“I love you too Rex, have been ever since I joined your legion.” The sentiment manages to put a halt to his words and he looks at you for what you deem is too long before leaning down and taking your lips in between his own again. It’s much less frantic than before, but it is just as deeply felt, and you tilt your head to the side to deepen it further, whining against him when he removes the both of you from the wall and walks back to his bed. 
He lays you down softly and continues to leave a trail of kisses down your neck, swearing beneath his breath when you reach for his shirt and try to remove it off of him.
“Rex, what- oh kriff, what does that word mean?” You manage to ask in between each kiss and nip he marks your body with, whispering his name over and over again when he chuckles at you and sits up to remove his shirt. You bite into your lower lip as soon as he reveals his broad chest to you, giggling like a little girl as Rex throws his shirt aside and drags his hand up and down your body. 
“Why don’t I show you sweetheart?” The Captain descends down upon you possessively, dragging his hands everywhere with an aggressiveness you’ve never seen him display before. He has you whimpering in the span of a few minutes, and with each bit of fabric he rips from your body, you’re left wishing he would put you out of your misery and claim you. 
“Please, Rex.” You beg shamelessly, covering your eyes with your arm when you’re left in nothing but your undergarments. 
“Shh, I got you cyar’ika…I got you.” The Captain coos at you as he traces lines up and down your body, passing his fingers in between your thighs teasingly and laughing when he notices goosebumps erupt across your skin. You peak from above your wrist, only to find him studying you closely and with a hunger unseen on his features before. 
“S-stop looking at me like that.” You turn your head to the side when he drags your arms away from your face and places them above your head, making you wish he wasn’t enjoying making you flustered. 
“Like what?” He’s nearly breathless as he asks you the question, not caring for how wanton he looks as he hovers his lips above your sternum before slowly making his way down your stomach. 
“Like…like-” You can’t find the words to tell him what he looks like, mostly because you know he’ll only laugh and reiterate whatever you say in agreement and cause you to feel even more embarrassed at being the subject of his scrutiny. 
“Like I want to eat you? Like I want to devour every fucking inch of you? Like I want to mark you with my teeth and hands until the whole kriffing galaxy knows who’s making you feel good? Is that how I’m looking at you sweet girl?” He pronounces each question with a harsh bite to your skin, smiling wickedly at you as he descends between your thighs and shoves them wide open to make room for himself. 
“Y-yes…I- oh gods please Rex, just- just…”
“I hate to break it to you ner cyare, but I will never,” he growls his need for you against the edge of your panties, biting down and chuckling when you twitch beneath him and reach for his shoulder, “ever,” his voice is much rougher, and you think that perhaps he will kill you through sheer frustration, “ stop looking at you like that.” You whine his name, and as you try to ask him once more to not be so brazen with you, he shoves his nose into your core and breathes in deeply. It’s absolutely filthy, the manner in which he nudges along the damp material hiding you from him while staring directly into your eyes. You shouldn’t be surprised by how far dilated his pupils are, but as you sink your nails into his muscles, you furrow your eyebrows and will yourself to continue staring at him, wanting to ensure that he wants this just as much as you. 
“Rex…please, touch me.” You slide one of your hands up to his cheek, cupping his chiseled jaw beneath your palm out of fear of having him move away. 
“I am touching you, mesh’la.” Rex raises a curious eyebrow at you, nuzzling into your hand when he feels you settle down and whine in frustration. 
“I need more.” You hope he understands what you’re trying to say, but it seems that Rex wants nothing more than to push you over the edge of irritation, huffing out in laughter once as he leans over and kisses your inner thighs. 
“Like this?” He asks, licking the spot he’s kissed before moving to the space just below your hip and nipping it lightly. “Or like this?” He inquires with a whisper, taking the edge of your panties in between his teeth and pulling them up until he makes sure you’re still looking at him before letting go and smirking at the snapping sound that forces you to jolt your hips into his face. He must be able to see the annoyance etched on your features because as soon as you try to sit up on your elbows and give him a piece of your mind, he drags both of his hands beneath your thighs and hoists them up until you’re perfectly laid out for him. 
“Rex, if you don’t- ahhh fuck,” you throw your head back as soon as you feel the heat of his mouth engulf your wet core. He’s licking you violently through the flimsy fabric of your panties, and when you manage to look down at him through dazed eyes, Rex shoves the material aside and shoves his tongue violently against your clit. You drag your nails across his scalp before you realize how painful it might be, but when you attempt to grab anything else, Rex shakes his head and sucks on your clit before letting go altogether. 
“Don’t fucking stop…mark me baby, mark me so the whole GAR knows who fucks you like the filthy jetii’ika I know you are.” Your eyes widen in shock at his words, amazed that the normally respectful and shy Captain is capable of groaning the filthiest words ever as he goes down on you. You return your hands to his blonde hair, a zap of lightning shooting across your muscles when you feel the buzzed cut tickle your heated skin while he continues to fuck you with his tongue. 
“Rex…oh fuck, you- you feel so good. Please don’t stop…don’t stop Captain!” You don’t mean for the honorific to fall so easily from your lips, and you look down to see if it made him uncomfortable, only to find him staring hungrily at you as he pulls you harder on his face. 
“Is that what you want, cyar’ika? You want me to be your Captain…give you orders and make you cum on my face before I fuck you till you can’t feel your legs?” You know it’s a rhetorical question because he returns his attention to your engorged clit soon after, laying his tongue flat against your bundle nerves as he drools over the fingers resting just below his mouth. You want to watch him as he worships you, commit to memory the desperation filling every muscle of his body as he shows you how much he craves you, but as soon as he eases two of his fingers past your slit and rubs against your walls, you’re shutting your eyes and arching your back at the sudden flash of pleasure that takes over your whole body. 
“Cum for me ner jetii’ika,” the tone of his voice, along with the needy order, are all it takes for you to reach your pleasure, and you dig your nails into his scalp in an attempt to bring him closer to you as you roll your hips back and forth against his mouth. You can’t feel anything except his tongue and his fingers, and you manage to look down through heavy-lidded eyes to watch Rex as he makes you cum. Your body shakes violently when you see his Force signature turn into a bright cloud of red, the shade validating to you the Captain’s feelings as he continues to assault your cunt until you grow oversensitive. 
You try to push him off of you but he is relentless in his mission to pleasure you, wrapping his arms around your hips and pushing down your body until you understand that he won’t be letting you go anytime soon. You feel empty all of a sudden, but then you notice his wet fingers as they grab you through your chest bindings and you feel another wave of ecstasy slowly creep up on you. 
“R-Rex…I-”
“Drench my face, sir.” You’re not sure what it is that coaxes another orgasm out of you, if it is the way he orders you to cum on his mouth again, or the sound of the honorific falling from his lips as he licks and sucks on your clit. You scream his name like a benediction, the sensation he was bringing upon your fatigued body driving you mad with lust. You can faintly hear him moan your name in return, and it’s only when you look down after he’s let up do you realize that you’ve done exactly what he wanted and drenched his face. You should be embarrassed, but as Rex licks at you softly with a lazy smile, you realize that he may have enjoyed this more than you. 
“Oh maker, I- I’ve never…” You try to speak but your voice comes out hoarse, making Rex laugh even harder as he sits up and wipes his face with the back of his hand. 
“That was the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen sweetheart…I want you to do it again.” He drags his gaze down your body as he brings his fingers to his mouth and sucks on them, the same ones that were showing you stars not a moment ago. He looks positively sinful, and you giggle embarrassingly at him before you try to reach for the tent on his sweatpants. 
“No,” he grips your wrist tightly and falls against you, pushing you down into his bed with his whole body before reaching for both of your hands and laying them above your head. You frown at him, unsure why he was denying you the same pleasure he brought upon you. 
“Don’t look so upset, mesh’la.” He winks at you as he kisses down your neck and licks the water droplets sticking to your sternum. You sigh heavily and extend your neck out further to give him more access, the action pleasing him more than you thought it would and making him groan deeply into your breasts. “Believe me when I tell you…if you touch me now, this night will end much earlier than I would like it to.” He sucks bruises across your chest, managing to hold both of your wrists with one hand while the other moves to unbind the wrapping around your breasts. It doesn’t take much to reveal you to his eyes, and when you’re finally freed of the offending article of clothing, Rex growls before ascending upon you, not caring for how rough he’s being as he takes a nipple in between his teeth while he rolls his thumb over the other. 
“Ah f-fuck…Rex, you- your tongue is- oh kriff, I need you Captain…please. I want to feel you, want you to fuck me, hard.”
“Yeah sweetheart?” Rex soothes the love bites with his tongue, swirling the rough muscle around your hardened peak until your chest rises and falls rapidly. He’s memorizing every inch of your skin, and you notice his smile grow deeper when he sees evidence of his claim beginning to appear all over your body. You always imagined him to be possessive with things he enjoyed, but you never thought once you’d be at the receiving end of such dedication, such admiration. 
“Claim me, my dear Captain.” You plead one last time, tilting your head down to try and kiss the top of his head in an attempt to make him lose control. The gesture does the trick, and Rex ascends up your body and takes your lips in between his own, ripping the breath out of your lungs as he sucks and licks into your mouth until you could no longer focus on anything but the sensations he was ringing from your body. You whine and moan for him as he pushes you harder into his sheets, and when you tries to rest his weight on one of his arms, you throw your own around his neck and pull him as flush to you as possible. 
“I want to feel you, all of you.” You whisper the request against his cheek, kissing his jaw lightly in anticipation for what comes next. When you sense his hand moving down your body, you nip across his neck and mirror his actions from earlier, distracting him on his journey just as he did with you not a moment ago. 
“Fuck sweetheart, you’re going to be the death of me.” Rex groans against your forehead as he struggles to pull the edge of his sweatpants down his hips. It becomes very clear to him soon that you weren’t going to let up on marking his skin, and he sighs in irritation before deciding to pull his cock out from underneath the band of his pants. 
“Please Rex,” you urge him with soft pleas and wet kisses, laying your head back to look into his eyes as he pushes aside your panties and rubs your clit with the hard tip of his cock. 
“Are you ready for me, cyare?” Rex asks, furrowing his eyebrows in focus so as to not hurt you. You nod frantically at him, widening your legs even further to allow him to settle more comfortably in between your thighs. 
“Fuck me, Captain.” You breathe against his quivering lips, sighing in relief when the crown of his dick catches at your wet entrance. 
“Yes, sir!” It’s all the warning you get before Rex thrusts his throbbing cock into your cunt, and you watch with fascination as the aura shadowing over the two of you becomes an even deeper shade of red, one that mixed perfectly with his normally blue hue and created a soothing new wave to your eyes. 
Neither of you move, looking into the other’s eyes to ensure that this was actually happening. 
Rex struggles to breathe, and you massage his neck with your fingers before shifting your hips to get closer to him. The movement sends his cock gliding against your clenching walls, and you both moan the other’s name as you feel pure ecstasy take over your spirits. 
“You- you feel…” Rex tries to speak, but he loses focus of the sentence, instead moving all of his attention into committing this moment to memory. 
“Perfect.” You finish his thought, leaning up and kissing his lips once before relaxing back into the mattress and silently urging him to move. When he pulls out of you and pushes back in slowly, you realize that you’ll never get enough of this. 
Enough of him. 
And from the way he was gazing down at you, it seems that the feeling was mutual. 
“Rex, just- I want you to cum. I don’t care about me, I only w-want to feel you cum.” You cross your legs behind his back to bring him deeper inside you, the action forcing a cry from his lips that sounds awfully like your name. You giggle beneath him, pride feeling your chest at being the one to bring him to such pleasure. 
“I- I’ll be damned if you don’t cum on my cock at least once tonight, mesh’la.” The promise is accompanied with a dangerous glint in his eyes, and you gulp nervously at him, shutting your eyes to relish in the feeling of being so full. Each thrust brings about a fresh wave of arousal to your core, and you dig your nails into his back to show him just how good he’s making you feel. The delicious drag of his cock across your tight walls nearly makes you question whether this was all real, not because you didn’t expect him to feel so perfect inside you, but because he was so much better than your imagination. 
His grunts are music to your ears, and you leave a trail of kisses across face the closer he gets to his peak, wanting him to scream your name when he finally cums and claims you. It’s a battle of needs at this point, with your minds telling you to make this last as long as possible but your joined bodies screaming for a sweet release. You can feel every inch of him, every hard vein slide against your fluttering walls the harder he fucks into you. 
There is so much on your mind, so much you want to tell him, but you’re not coherent enough to remotely breathe out a string of affirmations to him, so you instead look back into his eyes and hope he can see right through you, recognize every bit of your heart that has always screamed his name since they day you met. 
“I- I won’t last much longer, cyar’ika.” He manages to confess as he thrusts become harder, deeper, more intimate. You shake your head and whisper your lack of care for what he just said, wanting him to finally mark you as his own and fill you with his seed. There’s something inherently faithful about wanting him to fuck his cum inside you, a sensation you’re aware would scream your devotion to each other but is against every rule set in place for someone like you…someone like him as well, 
But you can’t find it in yourself to care, not when Rex was finally sinking so sweetly into your pussy over and over again until you couldn’t think of anything else but how utterly divine he felt as he joined your bodies with a string of unparalleled pleasure. 
“Ner jetii’ika, I- I’m…oh kriff, where do I-”
“Inside me, please!” You cut him off, swallowing his moans as he shakes above you while bringing one of his hands in between your bodies, the sudden touch of his digits against your oversensitive clit making you arch your back into his chest and part your lips for him. He grunts several times while rubbing your hardened bundle of nerves, swirling his tongue around your own when he feels you clench harshly around him. You shudder beneath him, unable to fathom the sensations he was pulling from you so easily, so exquisitely. Just as you break the kiss to breathe, Rex growls your name in between expletives, shoving his cock into you a few times before finally coming undone. Your pleasure lasts for longer than you thought possible, the feeling of his seed painting your walls and oozing out of you somehow making you feel even more attuned to his pleasure, as if his ecstasy was connected to your own and refused to part from it. He bucks his hips into you with shallow thrusts, resting his forehead against your chest as he slowly comes down from the brief high. 
You’re both too dazed to move a single muscle, and when you try to unwrap your legs from around him, Rex hisses in surprise at feeling your pussy flutter around him one last time. He finally sits up to look at you, and you watch as the smirk on his face grows with each bit of skin he sees adorned with his touch. 
“So…all of that means ‘mesh’la’?” You break the silence and laugh along with him when he finally catches on to what you’re referring to, only to hiss in discomfort when he pulls out of you and leaves you empty. You watch as Rex reluctantly sits up and shoves your thighs apart to look at the mess he’s made of you. You want to shake your head at him, call him disgusting for being so obvious with what he’s done to you, but when you find him biting his lips and staring at you with newfound lust, you realize that teasing him may not be the best idea now. 
“Fuck cyare, you look beautiful.” You giggle as you hide behind your arms once more, making Rex tease you about your shy bedside manner when he was literally fucking you into kingdom come not a moment ago. He gets up and walks to the refresher, quickly coming back to you to clean you up so you don’t have to move much. You can’t help but look at him with adoration as he rubs every inch of your skin. He’s careful and patient with you, taking his time to caress your skin before throwing the towel aside and reaching for one of his shirts to hand you. 
“Why give me a shirt when you know you’ll take it off of me in another hour?” You ask him teasingly, laughing hysterically when he throws it aside and shoves his sweatpants down his thighs. 
Your eyes shift to his cock instantly, and you marvel at how thick and long he is…and the fact that he was already starting to get hard again. 
“To even the field,” he winks at you as he slips beneath the covers and pulls you into his side, wrapping his arm around you before dimming down the lights. 
You sit in silence for what feels like hours, drawing patterns on his beautiful, bronze chest while he rubs your shoulder and back to soothe your body. It’s only after a while that Rex finally breaks the quiet air of the room and looks down at you, waiting until you meet his eyes before he finally tells you what he’s wanted to say for so long. 
“I would rather die than let anything happen to you, ner cyare. You know that right?” He says, matter-of-factly, and you sense a sliver of anxiety fill his otherwise calm aura for a brief moment before it evaporates into thin air. 
“I know darling, and you know by now that the feeling is mutual.” It’s not what he wants to hear, that you are sure of, but you can’t find it in yourself to lie to him, wanting him to know that you care for him just as much as he cares for you. 
“I guess both of us are going to be stubborn about this.” He shakes his head and leans over to kiss your forehead before resting back against the pillow once more. 
“You bet your sweet ass.” You retort immediately, yelping in shock when he pinches your shoulder and sends you closer into his chest. 
“You haven’t even seen my ass, sweetheart.” He snorts at your comeback, glancing down at you for a moment before shutting his eyes and enjoying the feeling of having you so willing and relaxed in his arms. 
“Oh, believe me Captain, I have seen your ass…and I fucking love it.”
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liminal-space-lesbian · 2 months
Text
BG3 Ladies x Bard Tav headcanons
Request: For request, can you write some about a bard tav and the female companions thank you have a nice day!
Thank you so much for this request, I just wanna apologize in advance and say I’ve never played a bard and know next to nothing about them, so if this is dreadful I fully apologize 😭
Karlach:
Karlach is your number one supporter. She ADORES when you play your lute in the evenings by the fire, it lulls her into a calm sense of security. She admires how you can play something so gentle and comforting, and then at the Tiefling party you strummed an enthusiastic tune.
She definitely dances along to your music, and sometimes if you sing she’ll join in. She’s not a great singer but she makes up for it with her enthusiasm. The time she doesn’t spend boisterously laughing or dancing her breath away, she sings along happily.
She’s so protective of you, oh my word. Any time you’re in a battle, she’s more than confident you can hold your own, but also you’re so precious to her that she tries her very best to keep you out of harms way. However, sometimes she hangs back to watch you viciously mock an enemy. “Yeah, you tell ‘em soldier!” She’ll shout encouragingly as she pulls her great axe from the corpse of an enemy. She also finds it impossibly hot when you mock an enemy.
Shadowheart:
Shadowheart is such a sucker for when you play her a ballad on your lyre. She will lounge back with a glass of wine and listen contentedly as you play. You may or may not have sang her a love song once, and she was quite literally swooning.
When you play a more energetic tune, she claps along and taps her foot to the beat. She’s not much for dancing, since she’s worried she’ll embarrass herself. If you beg enough she’ll give you a little jig though. Only if you’re alone though.
Other than your musical inclinations, she’s extremely impressed with how you charm people so easily. “Well look at you, you practically have them begging at your feet already.” And she’s not wrong, a sweet smile and a bat of your lashes and you get your way. She’s susceptible to your charms as well, don’t get me wrong. She just finds it incredibly endearing to watch you get your way.
Lae’zel:
Lae’zel complains that your drumming is incredibly annoying and pointless, but you catch her nodding her head to the beat more than once. If you’re charming enough you can get her to admit your music is… bearable.
When you set a marching beat during your travels, against her better judgment she will tramp along to the tempo you’ve set. During battle she is rather impressed by your skills Though she finds your ability to befriend anyone silly, she can’t deny its effectiveness.
Oh, and when you sing to her? She’s a goner. She will pretend to ignore you, but when you stop singing she’ll turn her head to glare at you. “Chk, tired already?” She’ll taunt, only settling back down when you continue.
Dame Aylin:
Aylin adores when you play your flute for her. She could listen to you play for hours, simply watching you adoringly. Every once and a while she’ll request a specific song, and absolutely sing your praises when you deliver.
Sometimes she asks you to sing for her, so she can fall asleep. She does have trouble sleeping sometimes, since her dreams are filled with memories of being trapped in shadow fell :( but you always are there to soothe her with a song.
Aylin always keeps you out of harms way in combat, even though you can hold your own. You’re too preschools for her to risk, so she makes sure you stay swell away from combat. She does appreciate your help when you boost her and your companions abilities with a warding spell. She is rather proud of your arcane abilities.
“Darling, aren’t you just the sweetest. Whatever would I do without you?” She always showers you with kisses after a battle, making sure to show her appreciation for you <3
Isobel Thorm:
Isobel loves watching you play your violin. She thinks it’s incredible how you so gracefully sway about, your fingers forming chords smoothly as your other hand draws the bow across the strings. It’s all skill, and she can see that.
When you play something more upbeat, she’s the first to be standing and supporting you, dancing the night away and cheering you on. She’ll also encourage your companions to dance as well, she wants to share the joy she feels by your music.
She also loves watching you fight, your nearly effortless grace in which you charm and smite enemies is something she greatly admires. “You impress me more every day, lovely.” She’ll call across the battlefield as you stand amongst a group of charmed enemies. You flash her a thumbs up in response, continuing your spell casting.
A/n
Sorry if these are kinda bad but I’m writing this in bed after working all day so 😀
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