#and its like. hes always the one whos left behind to remember. and the one to mourn
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by the shore - rafe cameron x fem!reader
pairing: rafe cameron x fem!reader (friends with benefits)
synopsis: being friends with rafe has its benefits
word count: 1.7k
warnings/tags: smut! (f oral, unprotected sex), few curse words
request: rafe x Reader, they are best friend that’s are on a family trip that they take every year in summer, reader is good friends with both Sarah and rafe, rafe and reader are a bit tipsy messing around and find their way to the beach and that’s were the smut happens :) hope you can do it thank you.
a/n: hi everyone! it's been a while since my last post because things got busy in nursing school but since it's summer break, i can now post again! thank you to the one who requested this <3 i hope you'll like this one. happy reading!
masterlist
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The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow across the beachfront estate where you and the Camerons vacationed every summer. The annual family trip was a cherished tradition, one you eagerly anticipated each year. It started long before you even entered school, a yearly event your parents initiated to celebrate their friendship with the Camerons. Naturally, you also formed a growing friendship with Sarah and Rafe.
Though, if you were honest, "friendship" didn't quite describe the bond between you and Rafe. Whether you and the Cameron heir were dating was unclear, but he acted like you were most of the time. Almost no boys dared to ask you out, not with Rafe always glaring at them from behind you. He accompanied you almost everywhere, even pretending you were his girlfriend to keep other girls away.
But your relationship with Rafe wasn't simply a friendship because of what you two did behind closed doors. It was no secret that Rafe had several experiences, his natural charisma drawing girls to him. Perhaps that's why you couldn't resist him when he told you he admired you months ago. He was your first.
Not one soul knows about it; you couldn't risk it.
The evening air was filled with laughter and clinking glasses as your families gathered on the deck, enjoying the night of their getaway. You felt a pleasant buzz from the beer you and Rafe had been sipping, the alcohol buzzing through your veins. Sarah had to excuse herself to answer a call from Topper, leaving you and Rafe alone under the twinkling fairy lights.
Rafe grinned at you, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Wanna take a walk down to the beach?" he suggested, his voice slightly blurred but full of excitement.
You smiled back and nodded eagerly, the idea of sneaking for a late-night adventure sounding perfect. "Absolutely. Let's go back before Sarah gets back and decides to drag us into some boring game."
Rafe laughed, a deep, infectious sound that made your heart flutter. The combination of alcohol and the intimate setting seemed to excite you.
The two of you stumbled down the wooden steps leading to the beach, giggling and shushing each other while your hands gripped tightly around your beer bottles. The fine sand was cool beneath your feet and the ocean waves lapping gently at the shore.
Rafe motioned for you to sit near a large rock, sitting down first to make sure that it was comfortable enough. You positioned yourself beside him, sighing contently as you took in the view before you.
"Remember when Sarah and I built a sandcastle when we were like, ten? Then you ruined it with your soccer ball." You said.
"In my defense, I didn't mean to kick it towards your castle." Rafe chuckled at the memory. "And I got the worst punishment from you because you refused to speak to me for a week."
You hummed, sipping more of your beer. "Still not over it."
He snorted, leaning his head back.
The next moments were spent in silence. You and Rafe took turns drinking what was left from the bottle, smiling whenever you would make eye contact, and leaning closer and closer to him until your shoulders touched.
You took a deep breath when you felt Rafe kiss your cheek suddenly. "What was that for?"
"What? Can't I kiss you?" He smiled innocently. "It's not like we haven't done anything more than a kiss."
You threw him a look, knowing that in a few moments, you would be doing something that friends don't normally do. How Rafe could always be turned on, you could never understand. But you don't complain, not when your hormones also betray you every time you see his muscles strain from his tight shirt.
"Come on, Y/n. No one can see us from here." He whispered, his breath tickling your skin as he lowered his face to your neck.
You didn't say anything, and Rafe took it as a sign to move further, abandoning his beer to the side. He placed one hand on your thigh and another hand on your waist. Your head was spinning from both the alcohol and Rafe's hands, suddenly not able to speak as you savor the moment of his lips on your neck.
"What would our parents say when they find out what we do?" He wondered teasingly, smirking when he saw you discreetly push your thighs together. He loved you like this: submissive as you let him do whatever he wanted.
"Probably celebrate. They've been teasing us for years." You finally replied, a laugh coming from your throat as you remembered the times when they would try to set the two of you up in every gathering.
Rafe suddenly lifted the skirt of your sundress, causing you to gasp. "Out here? Really?"
His other hand moved from your waist to your back, feeling for the zipper of your dress. "It's a perfect spot. No one can see us or hear us unless you scream, of course."
His cocky attitude made you roll your eyes, though your cunt already fluttered at the thought of being bare under his body as the sunset. "We have to be fast, got it?"
You didn't give him a chance to reply as you tilted your body, swiftly pushing him back so you could move on top and straddle him. Rafe, although shocked by your sudden movement, smiled cheekily as he witnessed you reach to your back to unzip your dress.
"Damn, baby." He breathed as he eyed the way the straps of the dress dropped, hastily helping you to get out of your clothing. He licked his lips as he stared at the sight of you. Your breasts perked up as the cool sea breeze touched your skin, leaving you in your underwear.
"Take it off, Rafe." You told him, helping him take off the shirt that accentuated his muscles.
Following your request, Rafe moved quickly and placed his shirt on the sand beside the two of you, lifting your hips and guiding you to lay on his shirt.
He finished removing the rest of his clothing, never cutting eye contact with you even as he pulled his cock out. You made a quick look back to the house, making sure that you were not within anyone's eyesight.
You gasped as Rafe pulled your panties down, your cunt fluttering at the excitement. He lowered his head down until it was leveled with your pussy, his manhood hardening at the sight of your wet folds.
Without warning, he gave your cunt a long lick, pushing his warm tongue as deep as he could reach. You moaned loudly and quickly gripped his hair, your back arching as he sucked on your clit.
Rafe reached a hand upwards to cover your mouth, not too tight to restrict you from breathing but just enough to muffle your moans. Your chest heaving as you gasped, the alcohol and his tongue working together to give you the best pleasure.
Rafe himself was groaning as he enjoyed the sight of your writhing body, his heart swelling with pride, knowing that it was only him who could make you feel that way.
Your moans were exchanged with whines when he suddenly moved away from your pussy, kneeling in front of you as he stroked his stiff dick.
"You said we have to be fast." He chuckled, teasing you. "Ready, baby?"
After seeing you nod, Rafe pushed himself inside you, a loud groan erupting from his lips as he felt your warm and wet folds around him.
"Best cunt in the world." He whispered to himself.
You let out a loud moan as he filled you completely, growing needy and desperate for a release. "Move, Rafe. Make me cum, please."
Your words sounded like music to Rafe's ears, further feeding his ego. "Since you asked nicely."
In one quick movement, Rafe thrust in and out of you, lifting one of your legs to wrap around his waist so he could reach deeper.
The sounds of both of your breaths were mixed with the sound of the ocean waves as sweat grew on the surface of your skin. You were shamelessly whining and moaning in every thrust while Rafe was closing his eyes as he groaned in pleasure.
He pushed your other leg upwards, having you nearly folded in half as he pushed harder. He looked down to where you two were connected, his cock twitching at the sight. "Taking me so well, baby. Come on, I know you're close."
You were panting, breathless, and unable to speak. Your hands were clawing on Rafe's shoulder, wanting to push him away from the overwhelming feeling.
"R-Rafe…" You breathed out, feeling your pussy pulsate around him.
"Yes, Y/n. Go on, cum for me." He urged you, his pace never stopping nor slowing down.
You looked at him, admiring how he looked with his disheveled hair and warm cheeks. His muscles were tensing as he thrusted faster.
Without warning, he pulled your legs apart slightly, just enough so he could reach your clit with his hand. You almost screamed at the contact, another surge of gratification taking over your body as he pinched your bud.
"Fuck, Rafe!"
He smiled, hips going faster until he felt you cum around his cock. Your hips were jerking upward as you released, thighs shaking as you squirted on him.
Rafe moaned loudly, and after a few more thrusts, he released his load inside of you, not letting a drop go to waste.
You were quiet as you panted underneath Rafe, your legs still shaking occasionally while you enjoyed the feeling of both of your cum inside you.
Rafe was whispering compliments in your ear softly, stroking your skin as he slowly pulled himself out. He then helped you back into your underwear and dress, gently guiding you as you regained your balance. Rafe was quicker as he dressed himself up, grabbing your hand immediately and leading you back to the house.
"Let's clean up inside before Sarah finds us here."
#drew starkey x reader#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron fluff#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron fanfic
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haze | suna rintarou
synopsis. on nights when you doubt yourself, suna rintarou reminds you who you are.
pairing. suna rintarou x fem!reader | wc. 2.6k | genres. timeskip!suna, fwb!suna, late night convos, insecurity, comfort | warnings. sex mentioned/implied, alcohol consumption on reader’s part and a little bit on suna’s
notes. i will be linking threads from twitter that contain ongoing fundraisers for palestine, sudan, congo, and many more. donate, and if you can’t, share the hell out of it. keep in mind these links are just one of many. please continue to look out for them, continue to educate yourself, continue to spread awareness, and continue to boycott. remember, our voices matter. we have to amplify our voices for the people who can’t. the hell these people are living through cannot end if nothing is done to pressure our governments and their oppressors.
one two three four five
on the nights you can’t sleep, everything hits you. failed relationships. bad decisions. thoughts of the unknown. it all piles on top of your mind until it crushes you. such worries make the room feel suffocating, like the air was suddenly stripped out of it. it makes your throat dry up and your skin itch. sitting in such a feeling drives you insane, and as much as you’d like to stay curled up under the covers to hide, you know that you have to find a way to breathe.
carefully, and without making any drastic movements, you slip out of bed. the cold air hits your naked body, sending shivers down your spine. you find your panties somewhere on the floor and slip them on. you pull the first shirt that you see over your head, and judging by its scent, you assume it to be sunarin’s.
at the thought of him, you fix your gaze onto his side of the bed. with your presence gone, sunarin’s face is illuminated by the moonlight that shines through his curtains. your heart jumps at the sight of him.
sunarin has always been beautiful. even a fool could acknowledge that fact. but it’s moments like these where you swear that he is unparalleled to any guy you’ve ever met.
you watch as his chest rises and falls with steady breaths. he has one arm folded under his head, acting as another pillow. the blankets you share cover him from the waist down, providing you with a partial view of his well-toned body and the marks you left on him. strands of his dark-brown, nearly black hair fall over his forehead.
seeing him so peaceful brings a ghost of a smile onto your face, but it falls just as quickly. you chew your bottom lip, opting to leave the bedroom. you carefully close the door behind you so that you don’t wake up suna.
you wander into his kitchen and open his fridge. to your surprise, there’s a selection of white claws sitting on the bottom rack. sunarin is not much of an individual drinker. he’d rather enjoy it with the company of his friends. the alcohol he does have in his possession are much more potent than a hard seltzer, which isn’t what you’re really looking for. you need balance. you need something that will calm you without you having to wake up to a throbbing head in the morning. hard seltzers are what you look for in those times.
you wonder what he got them for, but you shake that thought off quickly. it’s not your business. you pull the first can you see out of its place before nudging the fridge shut with your foot.
in sunarin’s apartment, a balcony is connected to the living room, separated by a glass door. in need of fresh air, you slide it open. the balcony itself isn’t anything grand. it’s spacious enough, but suna doesn’t care to decorate it lavishly. he says there’s no point. so all there is are two wooden chairs with a tiny, circular table separating them.
you pull out the chair on the right and face it towards the railing. you seat yourself on it before cracking open the white claw before taking a sip. the alcohol part of it tastes funky but it’s bearable with the help of what you realize to be raspberry.
you take a long inhale. the cold air fills your lungs and nips at your insides, but it feels good. you stare at the night sky, counting the stars and admiring the moon that shines above you. below you, you spot two buddies supporting each other, barely able to hold the other up because of the drunken stares of their bodies. you take a swig of your drink. you catch lights from inside buildings flicker on then off, a reminder that life exists everywhere.
for a while, it distracts you. it keeps your mind at bay from the pending worries that are waiting to pounce at you. there’s only so many things you can count until you get bored. the view from sunarin’s balcony is nothing special after all.
but who are you to complain anyway? sunarin has much more in his life to make up for it. he’s got the money to see better views. he’s got a career he loves, an olympic medal, and adoring fans. sunarin’s got it all. he’s got a life one could only dream about.
your life isn’t shitty at all, but it’s nothing spectacular like suna’s. it’s perfectly average. and now that you think about it, why did he settle in an arrangement with someone as plain as you?
before you can ponder that answer, the glass door slides open. you don’t bother looking back. it’s obvious who it is; there’s only one other person in the apartment. the second wooden chair scraps against the floor as suna moves it back. you stare ahead as he effortlessly lifts the circular table and places it on the side. with one arm, he picks up the wooden chair, setting it down next to yours.
his bare arm grazes you as he sits, and you just now realize that he’s still shirtless. you eye suna, and even in his barely awake state, he’s worth ogling over. his black sweatpants sit snugly on his legs, hanging a tad bit low. without the blanket, you’re granted full access to the muscles that your middle blocker friend has spent years honing. light catches around sunarin’s neck, and you register it to be the silver chain that you bought for his birthday. god, you wish you had your phone. his fans would start frothing if they saw him like this.
“bit cold out, no?” you finally catch his eyes, half open but focused on you.
“you’ve got my shirt, babe.” sunarin’s voice is still sleep-ridden, raspy even. “plus, you’re not even wearing pants.”
you look down. he got you. “fair enough.”
there’s a brief silence before you’re speaking again. “what happened? why are you awake?”
“bed was cold.” sunarin responds, and something about the response tugs at your heartstrings, but you ignore it nonetheless and sunarin doesn’t expand on it. “what are you doing out here?”
“thinking.” you say simply.
“about what?”
“you.”
it’s easy to spot that he wasn’t expecting that. sunarin’s eyes widen, and suddenly his brain wakes up. in typical suna fashion, he wipes his shock off, replacing it with an amused smirk. “i’m flattered, babe.”
you hum, opting for another downing of the seltzer. the middle blocker’s fox eyes follow the movements. “i see you’ve found them.”
“huh?” you glance at your hand. “oh. yeah.”
“let me taste it. i’ve never tried them before.” sunarin sticks his hand toward you. you raise an eyebrow but still comply.
the olympian takes a quick swig, pondering the taste on his tongue. he makes a soft noise of satisfaction before handing the can back to you. “it’s not bad.”
“what’d you buy them for?” you question. at least, you can get an answer now.
“they’re for you.” he answers, nodding his head toward you.
you chuckle emptily. “what?”
suna shrugs. “i’ve noticed. you’re the type who wants a drink after sex, but you don’t want anything ridiculously strong, but you’re also not satisfied with the juices i have in the fridge either. so i thought, why not meet in the middle?”
“you noticed that?”
sunarin furrows his eyebrows as if he didn’t understand why it’s so surprising. “‘course i did.”
“you don’t have to, y’know?” you whisper, suddenly feeling small.
“but i want to.” sunarin holds your gaze. it makes your heart pound a bit harder. “it’ll stop you from leaving.” he continues after a moment.
“what do you mean?”
suna clamps his lips shut as if he isn’t sure if he should reveal the reason to you, yet he does anyway. “it’s… weird… when you go. and yeah, you say that you’ll come back, but it feels… lonely in the minutes that you’re gone, and i don’t like it. but now that i think about it, i really should have gone with you. why the fuck did i allow you to leave alone?”
you shrug. “it’s okay. the convenience store is just around the corner. there’s cameras everywhere. i’m still here.”
“i know that.” suna sighs, slumping in his chair with a pout. “i know but still. either way, i just don’t want you going anymore. i feel more secure when i know you’re near.”
“oh.” you breathe out, feeling your blood heat up at those words. “thanks, sunarin.”
the middle blocker’s face scrunches up. “why do you still call me that? i’ve literally been inside you. you can call me rin. it’s fine.”
you roll your eyes at the joke, but the question weighs on you. you purse your lips together in thought. “it doesn’t feel right.”
“why wouldn’t it be?” suna adjusts his position, throwing his arm around your chair. his fingers hang down, barely touching your upper arm, and he’s trained solely on you.
“i mean,” you pause to gather your line of reasoning. “rin feels a lot more intimate.”
“and we’re not already?” sunarin smirks, but it only makes you sigh.
“no. fuck, how do i say it?” you point your gaze upward, poking the inside of your cheek as you think. suna lightly traces patterns on your arm while he waits, his grayish eyes never leaving your face. “it’s a lot more special, like it should be reserved for the people who really mean something to you.”
sunarin’s eyebrows furrow when he catches onto the implication. “are you saying you don’t think you mean anything to me?”
you shrug, beginning to chew on your lower lip. your leg starts subconsciously bouncing up and down. you swirl the contents of your white claw in the can before gulping more of it down. “i don’t know.” the line of formality and informality blurs and confuses you.
“(y/n). i’ve known you since high school.” sunarin reminds you.
“that doesn’t change anything.” you shake your head. “we didn’t reconnect until the twins’ birthday party six months ago.”
that seems to silence the olympian because he knows you’re right, and you let it run for minutes until your mind is gnawing at you, asking you to at least figure out where you stand with suna. “why me of all people, sunarin?”
“what?”
you gesture to the two of you. “this. our arrangement. why’d you choose me?”
“because.”
“because what? i mean, think about it,” you paint the picture for him. “models. idols. actresses. rich girls. you could have anyone you want.”
“sure, but none of them are you.” suna replies earnestly. you know he is, but a part of you is still not sold.
“but how could i possibly be better than them?” you press.
“because i trust you, (y/n). i trust you a lot more than i could ever trust them.” sunarin snaps back, causing you to blink at the outburst. he catches his tone, apologizes, and relaxes. he draws back the arm that was wrapped around your chair. “the spotlight has its perks, but it has its downsides too. it’s the same for anyone remotely famous. you have to keep your guard up at all times. if they find something to drag you for, it can ruin you and the career you’ve worked so hard to build.”
and when you don’t respond, suna ventures off into a different story. “did you know that you were the second person i consulted with about turning pro?”
“second?” you tilt your head, interested to see where this is heading.
“mhm.” he hums. “after kita, of course.”
“why?” you whisper. that seems to be the question of the night. why? why? why?
“you’re the realest person i’ve met, and the easiest to be around,” suna answers simply. “you’re reliable and honest, which is why i knew i could trust you to help me make a life-changing decision. you helped bring me into the place i am today all because you gave me a space where i could be insecure and vulnerable. i don’t need to keep my guard up when i’m around you. i can be me without any worry. you make me feel safe, (y/n). that’s why i chose you.” the middle blocker emphasizes.
you don’t know if it’s the alcohol, or the beauty of sunarin’s words, or maybe a combination of both, but you tears begin to well in your eyes.
suna frowns. his fingers instinctively reach to brush off the tears that cascade down your face. “hey, shh. it’s okay. don’t cry. it’s killing me, doll.” he whispers.
sunarin caresses your face with his large, somehow soft hand. the sight of you in this state makes his heart pound and his breath hitch. your glassy eyes catch every ray of light and the moonlight emphasize your beauty in ways that he never thought possible. you are a goddess bathed in light.
“you are so beautiful.” suna whispers before he’s pressing his lips to yours.
you reciprocate it instantly, eyes fluttering shut. two loose tears breach past, sliding down your face until they meet the corners of your lips. it mixes with the raspberry alcohol on your tongue, making the shared kiss between you and suna a flavor of bittersweet and salty, but neither of you care.
before, in moments of naked intimacy, kisses with suna were hot, desperate even. they made your body weak and took away your mind’s ability to function as his mouth dominated yours. it’s a result of the chemicals in your brain chasing a high.
this kiss is different. it’s a sensation better than anything you’ve ever felt before. it’s a combination of stars forming, tidal waves crashing, and butterflies flapping their wings at mach speed. this kiss makes you feel alive. you’re hyperaware of the heat suna’s touch lights on your face and throughout your entire body. the scent of his bodywash and shampoo intoxicate you. your heart pounds in your ears. sunarin feels so good. he always has.
and somehow, for a kiss that makes you experience every sensation at once, what really stands out is the way you feel comforted. every insecurity that plagued your mind dissipates with suna. he squashes them like they don’t matter because that’s what they are — insignificant.
is this what he meant? you think. is this what safety feels like?
when sunarin finally pulls away, you mourn the loss of him against you with a minuscule pout. suna reaches for your hands, bringing them up to his face so he can brush his soft lips against your knuckles.
“(y/n).” suna’s voice draws your eyes away from the olympian’s hold on your hands. “you are perfect just the way you are. you are exactly where you need to be. don’t let anyone, not even yourself, tell you otherwise, alright? if not, i’ll just have to hammer it into you until you understand. literally.” suna winks.
you roll your eyes at the innuendo, but a laugh escapes your throat, and sunarin grins. “there’s the pretty girl i know. come on, let’s go to bed. i’m fuckin’ tired.”
you down the last of your raspberry seltzer before standing up, discovering sunarin’s hand reached out towards you. without a second thought, you interlock your fingers with his, and you follow behind as the middle blocker slides open the glass door once more.
when you enter suna’s bedroom, you throw away the white claw can in the trash bin by his desk. you climb back into your side of the bed, pulling the blankets over your body, and scooting closer to suna’s warmth. sunarin hums as he slips his hand under your (but really his) shirt. his arm drapes itself around your waist. while you nuzzle your head into his chest, suna presses featherlight kisses on your forehead.
“good night, sweet girl.” suna whispers.
“g’night, rin.” you murmur back, not missing the way he smiles against your skin.
#anime#manga#haikyuu#hq#haikyu x reader#hq x reader#suna rintarou#suna rintaro x reader#suna x reader#from kor ; ♆
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Goth! Nico/ Surfer! Percy AU Part 3!
Here, have some awkward flirting by two absolute lovestruck losers (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ Oh how I love writing them being absolute disaster around each other asdsgsdhdff
@neo-kid-funk I managed to finish this part before I thought, I hope you like it!!! And I hope it fuels your inspiration for new art *evil laugh*
(For everyone who hasn't seen it yet, go to Neo's blog and enjoy her beautiful art!! This fic was inspired by her perfect design of older goth Nico <33)
Part 1, Part 2
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Nico didn’t expect it to become a habit. He expected it to be a one time thing, the kind of thing that turns your world upside down for a while but doesn’t really change anything in the long run.
He expected to go back to work the next time for his shift and to not exchange more than a couple of words with Percy.
Even in his wildest fantasies he had not expected Percy to actually go and make conversation with him.
“Doesn’t it drive you crazy? That you’re always on the beach so close to the ocean yet you can’t go in the water?”
Percy had his usual drink in his hand, and Nico had been ready to wish him a nice day and watch him walk away as it always happened.
That was how things usually went. Not this.
Nico could feel his world shift around its axis (a little dramatic, yes, he knew, and he also had no doubt that Leo would tease him nonstop if he told him), and an annoying blush creeping up his neck to his face as Percy looked at him with a curious look.
He looked away, trying to find something, anything, to do that would make him appear busy and give him an excuse to avoid those way too perfect eyes.
He had not been prepared for this.
“Uhm”, he started, remembering that he had been asked a question.
He could almost hear Jason’s voice in his head yelling at him that it’s your chance, it’s your chance, talk to him!; together with Leo’s voice screaming go make him fall for you, goth boy!
Shaking his head a little, he tried to shoo them away.
“I’m not a huge fan of the ocean”, he said in the end.
And, well, that had been perhaps the wrong thing to say, judging by Percy’s horrified expression. Eyes wide wide and mouth hanging open there where he had been about to take another sip of his drink, he was looking at Nico like he had just admitted that he liked to kick kittens in his free time. It was equal parts comical and mortifying.
Before Nico could decide if he wanted to laugh at that expression or regret every life choice that had led him up to that point, Percy let out a shocked “What!?”
And for some reason, that made him chuckle, left him smiling behind his hand.
“Was that the wrong answer?”, he asked, trying and probably failing to keep the teasing tone out of his voice.
Percy took a moment to answer. He was looking at Nico carefully, a weird expression on his face now that Nico couldn’t read. It made Nico feel a little unstable on his feet; he didn’t even realize he was staring right back at Percy until he noticed the slight red on his nose and cheekbones and found himself thinking that it was cute how Percy still got sunburn even when it seemed that he basically lived on the beach under the sun.
Percy cleared his throat, and the world started moving again around them.
“Yes!”, he said. “How can you not like the ocean?”
Nico shrugged, and threw a glance at the immense expanse of water before him. There were a lot of reasons he wasn't really fond of it, but he wasn’t sure Percy would appreciate them.
“It’s not that I don’t like it, I just don’t like getting in the water”.
“That basically means you don’t like it though”.
Nico rolled his eyes. His heart was beating a little too fast, his hands were sweaty, and he kept playing nervously with the rings on his lips. And he wanted nothing more than for this moment and this conversation to stretch on for as long as possible.
“It seems you’re taking this pretty personally”, he said, smiling.
Percy smiled back, and Nico’s heart replied with somersaults. “I am, I take the ocean very seriously”.
Nico had guessed, but it was nice hearing it directly from Percy, adding this information to his mental list of things I know about him. For some reason, he had the feeling that that list would keep growing from now on.
His eyes fell on the trident tattoo on Percy’s left bicep. It made Nico feel weak in the knees every time he saw it, his mind immediately offering him the haunting thought of what it would feel like under his fingers. He sort of wanted to bite it.
No, not the time for this kind of thoughts!
He was definitely blushing now - he just hoped that the shadow of the kiosk's little roof was enough to hide it.
You’re the worst, Nico di Angelo, shame on you.
Percy must have noticed where he was looking though, because he glanced at his tattoo too. “Yeah, I guess it was pretty obvious”, he laughed.
Oh he had such a nice laugh.
“You’re a big fan of the Little Mermaid?”, Nico asked, because for some reason that was the first thing that had come to his mind.
It made Percy laugh a little more though, so Nico counted it as a victory.
“That’s definitely part of it, I think I must have watched that movie a thousand times when I was little”.
Nico mentally added that new information to his list.
“Maybe you were a mermaid in your past life”, he suggested. “Or some sort of sea god”.
Those last words escaped his mouth before he could hold them back. He had not meant to say them out loud - damn his brain and his too fast mouth and his stupid huge crush. Percy did look like a sea god but that didn’t mean Nico had to say it out loud and expose himself like that. See, that’s why he didn’t want to talk to Percy, he knew he would make a fool of himself. Maybe the ground would be so nice as to open up and swallow him whole right now.
(Oh, he knew his friends would laugh at him like crazy for this later).
When he found the courage to look back at Percy, he found him still smiling, an amused look in his eyes.
Nico’s stomach curled painfully on itself in a mix of embarrassment and stupid fondness. He was so weak for that look.
“In that case that would mean you just told a sea god that you don’t like the ocean”, Percy said. “That could be a problem”.
“I never said I don’t like it”, Nico pointed out, surprised at himself for how he could still speak despite his internal turmoil. “And also, I said you might have been one in your past life”.
Percy waved a hand. “That doesn’t matter. You know gods aren’t that reasonable”.
“Are you saying I should apologize?”
“Precisely”, Percy said, nodding solemnly.
That was such a weird conversation to have with someone you barely knew. Yet Nico couldn’t hold back the smile growing on his lips. Despite the continuous maelstrom raging inside him, he probably hadn’t stopped smiling for a second the whole time; it made him feel like a fool, but it was alright because Percy had been smiling for the whole time too.
“And how should I do that?”, Nico asked.
Percy seemed to think about it for a moment. “You could let me teach you how to surf”.
Nico stopped. Time stopped, the whole world stopped, even the waves of the ocean itself probably stopped moving.
In the least useful way possible, his mind conjured the terrible image of himself on a surfboard in the water with Percy wet and handsome next to him, holding him to show him what to do.
No, nope, no way. He would end up drowning after two seconds, either because surfing was definitely not his thing, or because letting the ocean swallow him would be the less embarrassing option.
“Uhm”, was the only thing that came out of his mouth“I… don’t think that would be such a good idea”.
Why is he asking me this though, oh my god what’s going on here.
His embarrassment must have caught up to Percy, because suddenly his smile turned awkward and so was also the short laugh that escaped his lips.
“I was just joking of course!”, he said quickly. Nico watched the way he rubbed his neck, the way he wasn’t looking at him anymore. “Well, then-”
“I mean!”, Nico cut him off without thinking.
That well then sounded way too much like Percy was about to leave, and Nico didn’t want that.
The relaxed feeling from before was gone, replaced with awkwardness hanging heavily in the air around them. If he had let Percy leave now, Nico was afraid he wouldn't see him again.
Don’t ruin this! It’s your chance!
This time, he tried his best to listen to his friends’ voices in his head.
“I- I mean”, he said again. “I’m really not good with water”.
He hoped his smile came out more apologetic than absolutely mortified and embarrassed. The pounding of his own heart was deafening almost, he could feel it in his throat, making it hard to breathe and push the words out. “Thanks for the offer though…?”. It came out more like a question than anything.
Idiot idiot idiot.
“Ah- uhm”, Percy, said, letting out an awkward laugh. He wasn't looking at Nico anymore, his eyes fixed on his still half full drink. “Yeah, sure”.
You have to fix this!
“I'll just- look at you surfing and enjoy the ocean from afar for now”.
Weird, that was weird! Had he really just admitted that he would just stare at him? Maybe drowning in the ocean really was the best case scenario for him. No way his blush wasn't visible right now.
Percy must be thinking that he was the weirdest and creepiest guy right now. Nico wanted to die.
But then, Percy looked back at him, and the look on his face wasn't creeped out or uncomfortable - just surprised, eyes blinking slowly and mouth hanging open like he wanted to say something but didn't know exactly what. Nico watched as a small smile made its way back to his lips. The red sunburn on Percy's cheeks was mesmerizing.
“Sounds good to me”.
And okay, perhaps he hadn't ruined everything completely. Perhaps he would get to talk to Percy again.
Someone cleared their throat behind him, making Nico almost jump out of his skin. He had forgotten there was a whole world outside of himself and the man in front of him.
“Nico, we have to switch, it's time for your break”, Jason's voice reached him, bringing him back to reality. His friend was looking at him with a clear question in his eyes and badly veiled excitement - Nico knew he would want to hear everything about his conversation with Percy later.
“Yeah, right”, he replied, half relieved and half disappointed that the moment was over.
He turned to Percy. He couldn't read the expression in his eyes. “Well, I have to go”, he said.
Percy nodded. The soft smile was back on his face, and Nico felt his heart melt at the sight. “It was nice talking to you Nico”.
“You too. Have a nice day, Percy”.
It was the first time he called him directly by his name, he realized. It sounded way too nice ok his tongue.
He kept staring at his retreating figure as he walked away, feeling unstable on his feet like someone had suddenly changed the gravity on Earth.
“You okay?”, Jason asked.
“Uhm… I think so? I'm not sure what just happened”.
Jason laughed and put a hand on his shoulder in comfort.
“You can tell me everything later, alright? Come to my and Leo's place after work”.
Nico grimaced at the prospect - he could already feel the teasing that would come of it. But he did need to talk about it, so he nodded.“Yeah, alright”, he agreed. “But I really need a smoke now”.
#percy jackson#percy jackson and the olympians#nico di angelo#percico#nicercy#pernico#pjo#percico fanfic#goth/surfer percico#official tag for this au!!
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ROTTMNT x Reader
Part 1, Part 2
The flashing of cameras and the voices of reporters was the first thing Leonardo heard as he stepped out of his limo. Due to the long plane ride, Leo decided to wear comfort over fashion, although it's hard for him to look bad in anything. He wore a white wife-beater, revealing his plastron and tattooed arms. Much like his brother, Leonardo loved art, he just loved it in a more show-off sense. Of course, he let his brother give him his first tattoo, a large colored portrait of their family on his thigh. On his legs were blue sweats, a personal favorite that his agent always advised him not to wear. Expensive shoes designed for him specifically adorned his feet. Finally, silver chains decorated his wrists and neck (he would have chosen gold, but his brother advised against it. C'mon, blue and gold?), glistening with each movement. He flashed a smirk at the cameras and gave finger guns at fans. One of his bodyguards leaned close to whisper in his ear, "You have a meeting with the executive producers in thirty minutes."
"Which means I get at least twenty-eight minutes to strut my stuff." Leo chuckled. With split-second motions, Leo changed between poses, performing for the camera.
"-mask!"
Leo turned and stared into the crowd, "W-Who said that?" The crowd parted as if making way for a royal or God to walk without interruption. A small woman with a microphone in her hand shook as Leo approached. "Just now, you said something, what was it?"
The small girl stuttered, "I asked i-if you could put on y-your mask. F-for a picture for Channel 10?"
Leo's heart dropped, and his breathing quickened. A pat on his shoulder shook him out of his mini panic attack. He nodded thanks at his bodyguard and gave the reporter a quick grin, " I don't even know where that old thing went! It's been, what, psshh, five years? It's probably shoved in a box somewhere." That satiated the hungry reporters and fans, for now. Leo and his bodyguard left, heading off to the large building behind the crowd.
Okay, first things first. You don't know the old password so you can't change it to one you'll remember. So you changed the screen dimming time to never. Now the phone won't shut off on its own. Dialing your number, you called about three times with no answer. A sudden thought crosses your mind, causing your palm to hit your face. Your phone was on silent. Taking a deep breath, you quickly texted your number, explaining the situation and the password to unlock your phone. That way the turtle Yokai won't be as clueless as you are now.
With nothing else to do, you connected your headphones to the turtle's phone and searched for Spotify. It was his fault, the least he could do was spare some tunes. Wait a minute...his Spotify account...this dude was Othello Von Ryan? Man, you couldn't wait to see him again. His studying playlists kept you awake and alert through college! His barrage of random music, ranging from 80's dancing music to hardcore techno kept your mind alert and focused. Donnie, or, Othello Von Ryan, helped you with memory. Oddly enough, some of the quirky tunes in his playlists gave you memorization songs.
In fact, now that you think about it, Donnie looked an awful lot like your favorite actor--
"(Y/n)! Come in, dear! I've been expecting you!" A shrill voice called from across the street.
You looked up, spotting Mrs. Erin, the Heron Yokai. You grinned, pulling your headphones out of your ears and shoving them in your pocket. You waved at the Yokai as you crossed the street, stepping into her swampy garden. "How's your husband, Mrs. Erin?"
"Oh, Harry's fine! Come in! Come in! Let me get you a cup of tea." The old Yokai hobbled inside, her talons dragging across the waterlogged wood. You followed behind closely, used to the drab environment. You learned throughout life that the more you understand how something came to be, the more beautiful it becomes. With a clap from you, the twinkling string of lights came on. It's warm glow bouncing off the waxy leaves that broke through the cracked windows. Dew drops fell onto the wet floor, filling the room with quiet plip plaps.
A chipped cup of lukewarm tea was placed in your hand. A feathery hand pushed you down onto an old rocking chair, the owner of the hand sitting down across from you. "I want you to tell me all about this new job!" Erin grinned with a toothless smile.
"It's just a small librarian job at the school up top." You said, sipping your tea.
"Up top! With all those-those monsters?" Erin screeched.
"They're not all monsters! Some of them—"
"(Y/n). When your mother died I promised your father I'd make sure that you were safe! W-wouldn't you rather stay home? Marry a nice Yokai and settle down?" Erin tottered closer to you and grabbed your hands.
You chuckled, "I'm not exactly looking for someone to settle down with yet. I'm ready to get out there and explore! Besides, I can protect myself!" You said, proudly.
"E-even with all the humans?" Erin stuttered.
You blinked at Erin, your face neutral, "Mrs. Erin. I'm human."
"I know! B-but you're one of the good ones! I'd hate for you to go up top where I won't know what happened—Oh!" The old Yokai snatched the cup of tea from your hands and peered into the old china. She glared at the leaves and swirled the remaining liquid in the cup. With a gasp that jostled your core, Erin’s beak stretched into a long smile. She breathed a sigh of relief and set down the cup. “I was worried for nothing. You’re going to fall in love and get married to a nice, young, handsome Yokai.”
You shook your head, yet a smile still sat on your cheeks, “Maybe in a couple of years, Mrs. Erin. I’m not in any rush to get married to anyone right now.”
“Oh, I’m sure!” The Heron chuckled like she knew something you didn’t. Without warning, she began pushing you out of the house. “Okay, bye-bye now! The quicker you go up top the faster you fall in love!” With that, the door was slammed in your face, the sound echoing through the marshy area.
“Love you too.” You said flatly. You pulled the mystery phone back out of your pocket and put in your earbuds again. When you clicked onto Spotify, a notification popped up.
“Leonardo Hamato back in NYC for upcoming movie shoot, exclusive interview from Channel 10.”
Huh. How weird would it be if you ran into your favorite actor while after just moving back up top? Probably entirely impossible, but it was nice to hope, right?
"Shoved in a box?! Did you hear him?"
"I did."
"Shoved in a box?! Ugh! He's just so—"
"Annoying, pompous, overconfident, lacking in empathy, ass-like?"
Mikey turned to Donnie, his hair falling into his face as his head whipped around. "I was gonna say stupid, but yeah, those work too." Mikey nodded, turning back to the T.V, seeing the reporters final words to the camera once Leo left the cameras view.
Donnie felt himself N.E., which stood for Nose Exhale. Mikey learned that phrase years ago and thought it was more fitting than L.O.L for his emotionally unavailable brother. While it was rare for Donnie to "laugh out loud", when he found something humorous, he always let out a little breath of a chuckle through his nose.
"I just...out of everything he could have done...why'd he have to take away the one thing that..."
When Mikey paused, Donnie looked up from his purple holographic screens that he had been typing on. He saw Mikey looking at the screen sadly, and he knew it wasn't from the sad dog commercial that came on, but the interview that came before it. "That what, Michael?" Donnie asked, the screens disappearing.
"Nothing, it's stupid," Mikey sniffed, wiping his eyes before tears could escape.
"Leo is stupid, you're emotionally intelligent. You obviously have a reason to feel what you feel. You're not stupid for feeling emotions, Michelangelo." Donnie used his full name with the intention of leaving an impact.
Mikey chuckled and turned to Donnie, tears running down his smiling face, "Thanks, D."
Donnie nodded and sat up in his bean bag (yes it was his, the purple color made it obvious), "I may have taken a page or two from Dr. Delicate Touch," he shrugged.
"Nah, that was Dr. Feelings for sure," Mikey joked, knowing his brother was rather uncomfortable with feelings, but to be fair, he had gotten a lot better. Realizing this, Mikey sighed. Donnie appreciated honesty over anything, so this was something he needed to get off his chest, for his sake and his brother's. "Dad always called us by the color of our masks. Red, Orange, Purple...but Leo's not wearing his anymore. It's like he disowned us...he's not Blue anymore." Mikey began tucking his head and limbs into his shell with every word. By the end of his sentence, only his shell was visible sitting in front of the empty recliner.
This time Donnie sighed, he stood and gripped the purple beanbag so it stayed comfortably on his rear while he shuffled towards his brother. Letting gravity help him, Donnie let himself and the beanbag fall to the ground. He wiggled slightly and hummed, pleased at the fact that his position hadn't changed and the beanbag was still holding his shell and rear perfectly. Using his hand, he hesitantly patted Mikey's shell in comfort. "Leonardo's done some idiotic things in the past. I'd put this in his top ten, actually." Donnie thought aloud, but shook his head, remembering his original point, "He’s a dumb-dumb but, unfortunately, he'll never stop being our brother."
Mikey poked his head out, looking in Donnie's eyes for...something. A lie? Hope? Donnie didn't know, but whatever he found, he liked it, because the next moment, Mikey had his head and limbs out. He outstretched his arms, but didn't move aside from that. Donnie rolled his eyes, although a small smile poked at his lips. With a nod from Donnie, Mikey jumped onto him, giving him the tightest hug that he thought he'd ever received. Donnie hugged back.
Thankfully for Donnie, Mikey understood boundaries, and separated from Donnie before the hug got too overwhelming. Sloppily wiping his tears and sucking up his snot, Mikey gave Donnie a sincere smile. "Thanks, Don."
Donnie nodded, a small smile on his own lips. Out of his battle shell came a robotic arm holding a tissue. Mikey took the tissue and blew his nose as the robotic arm retracted back into the shell. "Hey-"
"I would prefer if you finished blowing your nose before you change the subject, please." Donnie asked, pulling up his holographic screens once more with the help of his Ninpō.
Mikey obeyed, then tossed the tissue into the trashcan on the other side of the room. When it landed, Mikey pumped his fist in a silent cheer. "What happened at the Mystic City? We were chasing Meat Sweats and you stopped to talk to some girl." Mikey remembered.
"Oh, yeah. Raph was texting about meeting for dinner, so I naturally opened my messages to form a reply, when—" Donnie pulled out his phone to show Mikey the texts when he immediately felt something amiss. The case was the same, the weight was equal to his phone, the model was the exact same, everything looked fine. But this is Donnie, he lost his phone for less than a day and went nearly insane when he was still a teenager. Give him a week and he might've made a phone from just things in the woods. He knew everything about his phone.
"Donnie?" Mikey called, noticing his brother's sudden silence.
Shakily, Donnie turned over the phone, noticing the background first, then the surplus of texts and calls from his phone number. He whispered something too quiet for Mikey to hear.
"What?" Mikey asked, putting his hand up to the side of his head where his ear would have been.
"This. Isn't. My. Phone."
#rottmnt#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#rottmnt donnie x reader#rottmnt leo x reader#rottmnt x reader#rottmnt raph x reader#rottmnt mikey x reader#rottmnt donnatello#rottmnt donnie#rise donnie x reader#rise donatello#rottmnt leonardo#rottmnt leo#rise leo x reader#rise leonardo#rise donnie#rise leo#rottmnt raphael#rottmnt raph#rise raph x reader#rise raphael#rise raph#rottmnt michelangelo#rottmnt mikey#rise mikey x reader#rise michelangelo#rise mikey
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whenever dark's life/existence as the niwa's curse gets equated to a living nightmare i fall over
#*･ﾟ⊰ 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐒. ⊱ ✦ › OUT.#it's a dream it's a nightmare it's bliss it's agony#there's just a few bits in canon- towa arc and baku/the last few volume chapters come to mind#daisuke's nightmare of dark being captured and taken from him + dark's own losses#being cut off from his hosts standing around at gravesites yet remembering them CRYSTAL CLEARLY. every single one#enduring sm loss as he's forced to 'drift through time' half dead. half alive. still longing for love and his own body#baku's own background story saying that after the loss of his most precious person-#who was killed. martryed. and therefore 'betrayed' by his other soldiers#that no matter what as the (thing) person left behind. the loss made life a nightmare#'what do you think [i] wanted? for the person i loved to come back no matter what? or for retribution?'#the way that it always goes back to reaching out. connection. true intimacy and appreciations#even if. or rather. when dark leaves daisuke. even when he gets erased from everyone's memories but daisuke's#even when everyone wakes up from the 'dream' and daisuke's freed from his 'nightmare'#its bittersweet. just like their grief#if it weren't for daisuke if it weren't for his being the christine if it weren't for the niwa's love#dark truly would have been a miserable monster living a nightmare through and through. utterlyyyyyy#but hes so saved.... hes so remembered...... put on the wig daisuke. we r so back
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older bf satoru catches you masturbating <3
𝝑𝑒 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. older bf!gojo satoru x female reader. smut, pwp. age gap (reader early 20’s, satoru early 30’s). māsturbation. turns into cunnilingus. squirting. reader gets called ‘baby, angel, little girl’
you miss satoru so much. he had left you behind in his apartment after getting a call from a colleague, who needed help defeating a curse nearby. it’s been a few hours since then and you’re bored.
bored and horny.
you’re still riled up from the heated make out session you had with satoru before he departed. the one that got interrupted by that damned phone call. you need him back with you—for his slender fingers to touch you and his mouth to kiss you all over.
all you have of him is his shirt. you’re wearing it whilst laying back in his bed, the fabric seemingly oversized on your body. his scent is making you lightheaded. dizzy, to the point your hand moves down on its own.
“mhhg,” you cover your mouth with your free hand, not wanting to risk anything, even if you’re the only one in this apartment. you waste no time dipping your fingers underneath your panties, circling your clit with your thumb while your index and middle finger rub your moist folds.
all you can do is imagine that it’s satoru pleasuring you. he always does it so well—never once leaving you unsatisfied. you cannot recall the amount of times he’s made you squirt from just rubbing your cunt. you’re so touch deprived and he knows how to take advantage of that.
remembering that one moment where your boyfriend had you seated on his lap on the couch makes you increase the pace of your fingers. how he was so focused on listening to the news whilst gently rubbing your tingly cunt over the material of your panties, like it’s the most normal thing in the world.
you recall how your panties were quite literally soaking after three whole orgasms. not once did his fingers directly touch your pussy, and yet he managed to elicit such strong reactions from you.
a frustrated whine in the shape of his name leaves your mouth. you want satoru back, so so badly. you want him to whisper sweet nothings inside of your ears as he makes love to you. that smooth and soothing voice of his makes you weak.
“fuck, angel,” satoru’s voice interrupts your little session. your eyes widen and you immediately pull your fingers out of your aching hole. you stammer and stutter, stumbling over your words as you look at the white-haired man standing at the doorframe of his room.
how do you even explain yourself?
your gaze flickers downwards which grants you the delicious sight of his bulge. his hand is right on top of it, indicating that he’s been touching himself before he decided to make his presence known.
satoru is panting, the sweat already starting to form on his forehead. he walks up to the bed and pries your hands away from your cunt. his cock stirs in his boxer briefs at the sight of you in his shirt. you’re so adorable to the older man. so needy. . .
without a word and like a starved man, satoru spreads your legs and yanks your panties down. your cunt is warm and soppy, the slick trail staining your underwear telling him enough. he doesn’t hesitate before diving his head between your plush thighs.
you feel a rush of warmth go through your body the instant his tongue comes into contact with your pussy. satoru’s nose repeatedly bumps against your clit as he tries to press his entire mouth onto your folds. his tongue lolls out, the tip navigating up and down your slit before pushing through, finding that little hole he can’t wait to devour.
“thank you for preparing my meal f’me while i was away,” satoru hums against your cunt before pulling back to allow his fingers to explore you. he glances up at you with a proud smirk before placing his mouth back where it belongs. he can’t let all the prep you did go to waste after all, “she’s fuckin’ delicious, baby.”
your hands pull at his hair in response, gaining a needy whine from your lover. he nearly chokes on both his spit and your juices. his hands hold onto the back of your knees and he uses that firm grip to push your legs further apart.
you’re nearly seeing stars. you didn’t even have time to register satoru’s sudden appearance. hell, you couldn’t even greet him or welcome him back home. that man wasted zero time in getting between your legs, eating you out like there’s no tomorrow.
you stumble over your own words. no matter how hard you try, not a sentence is able to form. all that leaves your mouth are moans of pure pleasure. your thighs shake and your hips buck against your lover’s mouth. you’re more than desperate for a release.
“c’mon, say my name again,” satoru sighs as he circles his tongue around your wet hole. he prods at it, tongue fucking you to acquire as much of your fluids as possible. your sweet wetness is making him throb in his pants, “mhmmm— my naughty little girl couldn’t wait.”
the older man feels great satisfaction at the thought of you being unable to withstand your pleasures. the sinful sight of you trying to fuck yourself with your little fingers on his bed, with his shirt on, is engraved in his mind forever. the second you moan out his name again, he goes all out.
satoru’s tongue doesn’t stop. even when you squeal and beg him to slow down because you feel like you’re going to cum early. that’s exactly what he wants; having you squirt all over his mouth and face. he needs to be covered with your slick.
you tug at his hair again - thinking that’d make satoru pull away - though the effect is the exact opposite. “nhh, do ‘t again,” he whines and moans against your folds, lapping up all that your pussy gives. the loud slurping noises reverberate throughout the room.
satoru’s eyes are closed, his furrowed brows adding to the concentrated yet content look on his blushing face. his lips, which are usually glossy, glisten even more with the liquid your cunt secretes. his eyes open every now and then to take a peek at you—to see if you’re still enjoying what he does.
“bet your small fingers weren’t enough, hm? y’ need mine?” satoru coos once he finally pulls his head back to breathe. he licks his lips as he stares at you with glazed and half-lidded eyes, totally pussydrunk. you don’t even have to respond to his questions. the answers are obvious by the way you’re trembling and desperately babbling incoherent pleas.
your boyfriend nods in understanding. he pouts at you while his fingers rub up and down your spread pussy lips. the pad of his thumb manoeuvres from your gaping hole to the little bundle of nerves at the top. satoru sticks two fingers in your cunt without warning. your high pitched whimper makes him coo at you, “yeah, i know, baby. let it out.”
the white-haired sorcerer pumps his long fingers in and out of you, a rhythm so addicting that it’s impossible not to give in. your back arches off the mattress. you’re trying your best not to stain satoru’s shirt with your juices, though you have a feeling he’d secretly like that anyway.
“am so close, ‘toruuu—fnngh,” you gasp and instantly feel satoru’s tongue replace his fingers. he wants to taste and feel your tight cunt spasm all around his tongue and mouth while you reach that point of no return. he’s going to try his best not to cum untouched in his pants this time.
satoru holds your hips with his big hands, keeping you down so he could properly eat you out and make you release all that tension. your pussy tingles and throbs, and you truly feel like you’re going to ascend.
it feels way too good. inhumanly good.
“cum on my tongu—“ satoru can’t even finish his sentence. a loud moan slips from between your lips, followed by a grunt from your boyfriend. his eyes roll back as your cunt releases more of its lewd fluids—spraying the liquid all over his mouth and chin.
you’re too busy trying to catch your breath to notice the mess you’ve created on satoru’s face and his sheets; a complete and total mess. the older man doesn’t mind neither. in fact, he enjoys it.
“shitttt, that was fuckin’ hot,” satoru flashes you a wide grin. he’s still somewhat drunk on you, which is visible by the way he’s licking up your mess from both his chin and your body. he cleans your cunt with his tongue—even if it’s overstimulating you.
he’s a greedy man when it comes to you. he wants more, more and more. whatever you’re offering, he will get.
satoru’s hands rub your sides to comfort you. he places soft kisses over your clit and pussy, as if he’s thanking you for the meal he just had the pleasure of devouring. he looks up at you with a cheeky smirk before laying his head against your inner thigh, his tongue peeking out between his glossy lips;
“think you can give me one more?”
#sttoru writes.#jjk smut#gojo smut#jjk x reader#gojo satoru smut#gojo x reader#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#jjk x you#jjk x y/n
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SOUL.
basketball player ony x black spiritual reader
warnings: he sucks the soul out yo p**sy!
part two here.
masterlist
The beginning of your second semester was in just a few days and to say you were excited was an understatement. Right before the first semester ended, you had undergone a ‘second’ spiritual awakening, as you like to call it. You decided you were tired of meaningless sex, worn out from talking to random guys, knowing they were leading nowhere; it never felt aligned with your spirit. The man you were having a fling with was supposed to be just that, a fling. But, of course, you ended up catching feelings.
It was ironic since you were the one who labeled it so as not to catch feelings, but of course, the universe reminded you that your soul wasn’t like that. Sex was an extremely big deal for you, so while he was attractive and could put it down better than the average man, his lack of appreciation was evident. His disrespect left you no choice but to sever ties completely; you blocked him on all socials, removing him from your life completely.
That same week, you had taken the time to really connect with the spiritual side of yourself again. You went back to doing shadow work to confront and shed your limiting beliefs while unpacking your trauma. Starting meditation again became a part of your daily routine, and you even started watching podcasts giving advice on how to liberate yourself from your past.
You started to take care of your physical health, too, signing up for a gym membership and eating full meals with a lot of protein to get your ass right. You were feeling like yourself again, and the feeling of liberation it brought was profound.
You had reevaluated your opinion and feelings toward money, too, deciding that every cent spent would be towards elevating your life one way or another. The universe, naturally rewarded your high vibration, drawing abundance to you in unprecedented ways. Your college sent you a generous check of $10,000, which you ensured was put to good use.
And fast forward just two months into your second semester, it was.
Your life had ascended to an entirely new level: your lashes were consistently sitting pretty, you were opting for waxing every 3-4 weeks, and your wardrobe underwent a complete overhaul- all in shades of pink, of course.
While you always prioritized your hygiene with the money your parents provided you with, now it was tenfold. You invested in new skincare and body care, and your hair flaunted a freshly laid style every 2-3 weeks. Your appearance radiated beauty, mirroring the inner confidence you felt. Thanks to your mindset, showed up as your best self every day.
In your macroeconomics class, you pondered all this, sitting adorable in a light pink tracksuit. The zipper of your sweater was slightly lowered, revealing your perky breasts, while a subtle smile graced your full brown glossed lips. You snapped out of your daze when you heard a whisper of your name from behind you.
“Y/n,” his deep, husky voice caused an immediate reaction within you. Your body moved on its own accord to face him, Onyankopon. Your attraction toward him grew slowly but gradually; it crept up on you unexpectedly. You remember when you first looked at him, immediately struck by his towering stance and commanding presence.
Despite your own tall stature, standing at an impressive 5’8, you were accustomed to men around your height or just slightly taller. It came as a surprise when you found yourself having to crane your neck to meet his gaze. What made your panties drop was his need to bend down slightly to catch your soft-spoken words. This was new.
The universe has to be testing you. What other reason could there possibly be? The way he looked at you, so deep into your soul when he asked you a question about the group project your professor assigned. His gentle manner of speaking made it feel as though it was just the two of you in the entire classroom. It had to be a test.
You’re tuned back into the classroom atmosphere when a large tatted hand waves slowly in your face. Blinking rapidly, you immediately chide yourself inwardly for having been caught staring straight at him without saying anything.
“Oh, sorry,” you murmur, avoiding his intense gaze. You silently plead with the universe, questioning why he had to look at you like that.
Ony chuckles at your embarrassment, he found you adorable. “You good, mama. But for our project, we’d set up a biomass service with an active but limited government, right?” his head tilts curiously as he addresses you, getting lost in your perfect face.
“Uh- yea. We’d have market prices to help fund it, too,” you whispered back to him, missing the way his eyes were studying your face. To him, you are stunning beyond measure. When he first introduced himself, he felt that beautiful was too inadequate of a word to describe you. He couldn’t stop himself from getting lost in your captivating energy.
Too entranced, he simply nodded at your answer, licking his lips while looking at yours. Your professor ended the class early today, assigning an assignment based on a textbook specifically meant for that class—a textbook you hadn’t bothered to spend your money on.
After packing your belongings, you made your way to the front of the class to sign your name in for attendance; while doing so, you heard the sugary voice of your professor,
“You know the project is due in around two weeks, so I wanted to check in on you and see how your progress with your group is so far,”
The minute she said this, an almost forgotten idea came into your head as you quickly replied, “Oh, right! I wanted to ask you to look over what we have so far, to make sure we’re on the right path.”
She immediately nodded affirmatively, “Of course, show me.”
You swiftly pulled out your laptop with a smile, expecting it to open instantly since you had just closed it. To your dismay, you were wrong— so wrong. Glancing around the almost empty classroom, you turned your attention to your computer to figure out exactly why it was taking so long to open, only to find the word ‘updating’ displayed. This prompted frown to crease on your face. I just closed it. Why is it updating now? you thought.
You sensed his presence before laying eyes on him, feeling his towering and imposing figure approach from directly behind you. Instinctively you pressed your full hips against the desk you were leaning on to not accidentally graze him. He was so big though; you knew if you turned around you wouldn’t find much space between the two of you. he stood right next to you.
You glanced around the room once more, only to find it empty. Inwardly rolled your eyes, you couldn’t help but attribute this to the universe when you peeked back at your laptop and found the PowerPoint for your project finally displayed on your screen.
Interrupting the conversation Ony and your professor were having about his last basketball game of the season, you turned your computer to show your professor all the slides you had finished. What you didn’t anticipate was Ony also looking at it.
You could sense his gaze on you, observing your every move as you flipped through the slides, listening to the praise your professor bestowed upon you after each one. When you finally finished and stood up straight, you turned to look up at him, only to find him already staring at you, his expression one of awe. Time seemed to freeze for a good minute as you locked eyes with him. The tension between you was palpable, so thick that for a moment, you wondered if your professor could sense it too, as she continued to praise the work you had done, casting a glance at both of you with a small smile on her face.
You quickly looked away and closed your computer once more, placing it in your knitted tote bag that was decorated in pink bows. Fuck.
You were planning on leaving, not wanting to overstay when you noticed he asked a question to clarify your research paper due a month from now. You couldn’t excuse yourself just yet because although the question was for him specifically, she addressed both of you when she answered.
You think that if you stayed this close to him for another minute, your slick would drip down on the floor from how wet you were getting, especially from the casual glances he kept sending your way while your professor rambled on.
When she finished, you didn’t hesitate to leave, wishing her a good weekend without acknowledging Ony, too afraid you might embarrass yourself. Once again, he simply glanced at you, admiring how your ass looked so plump and fat in the pretty tracksuit you wore. Your colorful waist beads and dermal piercings only adding onto your irresistible allure.
He found himself needing to adjust his sweats, feeling his bulge growing larger as his thoughts drifted to how he simply wanted to hold you, love you—he yearned to consume you completely. You were driving him insane.
You knew of your crush on Ony, but you had ignored it knowing how intense your feelings could become when you liked someone. You just started your spiritual journey again; you didn’t have the time to like someone. You were determined not to entertain it, but with each encounter during your class and even occasionally seeing him outside of class, the urge to get closer to him only intensified.
You went about the rest of classes for the day seamlessly, trying to forget about the 6’7 man that began consuming your mind on a daily basis. Fortunately, you hadn’t seen him for the rest of the day, which you were grateful for, you didn’t know if your panties could handle anymore.
The moment you opened the door to your studio apartment, your beautiful black cat greeted you instantly.
“Hi, my baby,” you cooed as you bent down slightly to pet her. She greatly accepted the attention, instantly trilling at you and rolling over on her back to showcase her stomach.
Later that night you promptly took a cold shower, cleansing your body of all the energies that had attached themselves to you from spending all day around people. Once done, you wrapped your pink towel around your body and sat on the edge of your bed to light your Venus Rose incense. This was your peace.
You reached over to your bedside table, taking your strawberry hemp lotion and treating your body to a much need massage. Then, you grabbed your shea butter baby oil and repeated the same process. Opting to stay naked for the night, you settled back on your silk pillows and basked in the moment.
Your moment was interrupted by a sudden ding on your phone. You smiled when you realized who it was. it was from one of your closest friends, your only friend after you had removed all the toxic people from your life, checking up on you.
Her name was Josefina, and that girl was your rock. one of the few people in your life that encouraged your growth and wasn’t afraid to call you out on your shit when you weren’t on top of game. And of course, you did the same for her. You hadn’t told her about this crush yet, and honestly you were nervous to do so.
“So, i have to tell you something,” you start after you both had been rambling on the phone for about 20 minutes. She gives you a look that can only be described as, ‘what now’. You have a reputation for relying on your intuition and making decisions based on your feelings, but she didn’t judge. Instead, she simply tilted her head and nodded, indicating that she was listening attentively.
“I have a crush on this guy in my group for the big project I told you about. his name is Ony and he is so tall and big girl, oh my god,” you let out a slight squeal as you drift off into a daydream about him.
She giggles at your reaction and lets out a small sigh of relief, which you notice.
“Bitch, i thought you went back to the dread-head you were fucking”, you shoot her a disgusted glance at the mere suggestion, causing her to laugh even harder before she goes on, “I know you don’t like confrontation, so let’s start small, yeah? You have an assignment due next week, right? Just ask him for the textbook since you don’t have it.”
Your eyes widen, and you start making small kissing noises through the screen as if she were there to receive them. “I love you so bad, i’m gonna give you a big kiss when i see you,” she returns the sentiment with a flushed face before you move on to another topic. You both stay on the phone for another hour, discussing your beliefs and interests. This was how it always was with her; you never felt the need to prove yourself, it was effortless to just be yourself.
The weekend arrived swiftly, almost unexpectedly so. With the looming threat of a failing grade and the risk of plummeting from a 3.7 GPA to a mere 2, the only option left was to muster the courage and text your crush, requesting the textbook you desperately needed.
You pull his number from the group chat that included everyone in your group and immediately got to work.
Your heart was beating abnormally fast, you’re going to his dorm. The same thought repeated in your mind at least 30 times before you actually got up and started getting ready. You search through your closet and select a pink tube top that fits snugly around your chest, pairing it with a long, flowing black skirt that grazes the floor. Naturally, you accessorize your outfit with a variety of waist beads and a jade Buddha necklace.
You swiftly fix the baby hairs on your black curly lace and send Ony your location, with a small text of ‘I'm ready,’ accompanying. When he notified you that the Uber had arrived, you hurriedly slipped on your beach sandals and grabbed your laptop and keys. The ride felt long, your nerves ramping up with each passing moment. Finally arriving on campus, you made your way to his dorm room and knocked. As the door opened, your breath caught in your throat at the sight of him, shirtless. Gray sweats hanging dangerously low on his hips, his fat bulge just staring at you.
Why? Why is it so big?
It felt as if time stood still in that moment, and you could only hope for the universe’s mercy.
“Come in, mama” he urges you in with a hand on your lower waist, lightly grazing your dermal piercings. Ony felt weak in the knees when you walked through his door. You were tempting him. With your pretty belly ring of the Ankh symbol twinkling at him. His mind went straight to the rapid movements they would make once he had your smooth legs on his shoulders, feeding you deep thrusts. You were tempting him, you had to be.
“You don’t have a roommate?” You look around the large tidy dorm, but you realized you only saw one set of keys by the door. He takes your laptop and keys and places it on the small wooden desk in front of his couch, right next to the textbook you needed.
He hums, “Nah, I need my privacy,” He grabs your hand and sits you down right next to him. You felt shivers run down your spine from the mere heat coming off of his palm. “You want some water before we start, mama?”
You flush at the pet name he always uses and look down at your classic french nails. “No, thank you Ony.”
Ony didn’t like when you avoided his stare, he wanted to see your beautiful brown eyes. He wanted to see your soul.
“Can you look at me?” He whispers and runs a crooked finger under your chin and tilts it towards him. Your lips were so plump and he held back a groan when you released a small gasp at his action. Your eyes flicker between your nails and his eyes until they finally relax into his gaze.
You could get lost in the way he looks at you, so sinful and passionate. The passion you’ve been longing for. Ony sensed this as he gives a sly smile, “There you go, good girl.”
Fuck. You’re sure the thong you put on 30 minutes ago were already drenched in your mess. If you had the bet, they probably stained your skirt too. That’s the effect he had on you. Ony was in the same boat you were, he knew what he was doing when he put on those gray sweats before he opened the door. Once you glanced down for a split second at his lap and quickly looked up, avoiding his stare yet again, he knew his plan had worked. You can’t get anything past him.
“You want it baby? I’ll give it to you. All you need to do is ask.” His hand began gripping your throat slowly, but firm. You gasped as he pulled you towards him. You were a breath away from his lips, and honestly you couldn’t take the tension anymore.
“O-Ony- We have to work on-” He cuts off your stumbled words before you could finish.
“But you want it, right?” He noticed the way you rubbed your thighs together when he tightened his grip on your throat. He leans to give a small peck to your adam’s apple causing you to grip his shoulders, his big shoulders. “Tell me you want it Y/n.”
“Please- ah!” Ony sucked on a particular sweet spot, hard. He tried to wait until you were at least half way done with the assignment, but how dare you? How dare you come into his dorm looking the way you did? And you expected him not to rip everything off of you and ravage your entire being? Silly you.
That’s how you found yourself in your current position On your back with your lace thong hanging off the tip of his TV and your thighs suffocating his head as he completely sucked the soul out of your clit. Ony was a desperate man, and after one taste of the heavenly slick between your legs, he couldn’t function properly anymore without being in it.
“Oh f-fuck Ony-” He hummed encouragingly and licked faster, eager to taste your cum, eager to see your twisted face when you cum for him.
“You got it, mama. Fuck you taste so good.” You couldn’t handle the pressure you felt, his tongue was eating you so fast. You let out a sinful moan when his tongue started moving in and out of your little quivering hole. Your back arched up off the couch as you grind your lower hips on his wet face. You were dripping everywhere.
You didn’t know what to grab, your hands scrambling around your pretty tits to the couch then back to your tits again. You couldn’t think- you had no thoughts in your brain but Ony and more.
Something was coming, you felt the boiling heat in your lower stomach. And Ony knew what was coming when your angelic mewls started getting shaky and you began pushing your hips away from the onslaught on your poor drenched pussy. He wasn’t having any of that, he tightens his grip on your hips right below your waist beads.
“S-shit I’m- Oh fuck. Ony I-” He somehow went faster, his tongue rolling all over your engorged bud. He ignored your attempts to tap out, he just wanted to please you. Can’t you see that? Why were you running away from him?
“Don’t run Y/n.” The mere octave in his voice caused a broken whimper to escape your messy glossed lips. You were an absolute mess, just from his skillful tongue alone. Your wig slightly lifting, your breathing erratic and irregular, drool now falling, and your arousal overflowing onto both his face and couch. Ony liked you like this. No, he loved you like this.
Your mouth opened into a silent scream, you came unexpectedly rapid. There was no warning when you did, you saw white spots in your vision and wailed out “Ony!”You just gave Ony everything you had, cream and squirt, and Ony, like the greedy man he was, took it all. Unashamedly so.
You thought he would stop after your hips stuttered and bucked for the fifth time in a row, but it’s a good thing you don’t get paid for thinking.
Ony grunted out in between what he decided was his meal, sending heavy shockwaves against your dripping core, “Don’t wanna-” Slurp. “Can’t fuck you without-” Slurp. “Taking you out first.” Squelch. “So let me eat you, okay, mama?” Squish. “You can take it, I know you can.”
You felt your clit twitch in his warm mouth. Ony wanted more from you, so, he took his long middle finger and easily slipped it inside your fluttering hole. Your eyes rolled into the back of your skull and you choked out another loud cry.
He started slow, barely reaching deep in you but he got mesmerized at the way your pussy juice was leaking onto his palm, so he gradually went faster. He wanted more. He latched onto your clit again and coaxes another tatted finger inside of you, splitting apart your warm walls. He became obsessed with the strangled noises you sung out.
“Oh-Oh god. Ah!” You squeal when he curls his fingers against your g-spot and abuses the spongy spot repeatedly. You couldn’t take it. You think you were hyperventilating, but he somehow managed to keep you calm when he intertwined his fingers with yours gently. His dynamic was making your mind scramble. The way he sucked the life out of you while gently caressing your soft hands couldn’t be normal.
You were becoming breathless when you felt the same fire from before come back, tenfold. You were going to lose it.
Ony encouraged you with a muffled voice, “Yeah baby, just like that. Come for me, I’m right here.” He didn’t want to let up for a second. Your body listens against your minds will. You knew you were safe, drenching his face in your essence felt safe. You scream out one last breathy moan before Ony pulls away from your sticky fat pussy lips.
If he didn’t stop now, the girthy cock he had in his pants would’ve have completely battered your pussy in the next second. And like he told you, he wanted to court you first. You gasp and fall down heavily on your back, your breathing loud as you try and catch your shaky breaths.
“You good?” He asks as he looks up at your blissed out face from his kneeled position. This nigga is not serious. Asking if you’re good after he just obliterated your pussy before he even got to fuck you. You didn’t respond, only gave him an exasperated look, which he chuckled at.
“I didn’t want to see you like this before I properly asked you out. But, you just looked so pretty.” He begins as he gets up and walks a few feet away from you to get you some water and a wet wipes. If Ony hadn’t left you temporarily immobilized you would’ve covered your face in embarrassment.
“You make me weak Y/n, and I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t take this chance. Let me take you on a date..please?” He sounded so vulnerable, his voice had a hint of pleading attached to it. You wanted this man so bad, it was impossible for you to say no. He cleaned you up as he awaited your answer with high breaths of anxiety.
You whisper in a hoarse voice, “Yes- yes Ony.” You pull him down towards you and wrap your thighs around his waist. You smiled as your mind went back to the Tarot reading you did last week that promised love in the near future. Maybe, just maybe, this was it. Ony could do nothing but fall harder.
#black y/n#spiritual reader#aot onyankopon#onyankopon x black y/n#ony x black reader#eren yeager#aot smau#aot x black reader#18+ only#aot smut#onyankopon smut#lumiwrites#eren yeager x black reader#connie springer x black reader smut#onyankopon x black reader#onyankopon x black reader smut
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cherry
words: 2.5k
warnings: 18+ only! smut, stripper!reader, prostitution, protected blowjob, protected p in v sex
“that hot guy is back again.” sugar says, pulling back the curtain just an inch, pointing into the crowd.
“ugh, he is so fine.” you whine. “we never get hot guys in here.” it’s your number one problem with your new strip club, in a much different area than your last, therefore attracting a far different crowd, mainly, an older one.
“girl, i know. everyone wants to take him into the back.” sugar raises his eyebrows, knowing you share her proclivity for taking clients into the back rooms to get an personal “dance.”
“it’s gonna be a fight for who he picks.” you giggle, quickly closing the curtain when the strip club house mom walks into the backstage area.
“i know i’m going right to him when lapdances start, but so is every other girl.” sugar says, adjusting the bra she’s wearing.
“if he stays, remember he left after the shows last time.” you point out. he stayed for all the girls to do their solo shows, but by the time lapdances and duos and trios came out, he was gone.
“good point, cherry.” sugar nods, using your stripper name, which is always a bit of a shock when its the girls doing it, but you learned quickly here that its a sign of respect to keep your real name out of the workplace at this club, so you quickly adapted to only using stripper names.
“alright girls, music is starting!” the house mom shouts out. you are later on in the set, so you head back to your station and adjust your costume for the night, a cherry red number to fit your name, matching your nail polish and lipstick.
you wait until its your turn to go on, hearing the music play and waiting for the right beat to walk out, the club letting out a cheer as you strut onto the stage. the routine is an old one that you’ve done a million times, and your body easily works through the motions, running almost on autopilot, giving you time to look into the crowd, gauge the reactions, including the handsome guy everyone wants sitting forward, eyes intense.
you are out of breath and completely naked except for your heels as you walk back behind the curtain, pushing your hair back that got caught in your face.
“girl, shut the fuck up! hottie was totally into you!” lola says, her voice sounding excited, despite a couple of the other girls giving you a jealous look.
you pull your next lingerie set, the one you liked for lap dances as you shrug. you noticed that he was paying very close attention to your dancing, but you didn’t know that he wasn’t giving everyone else the exact same heated look.
“i think its only fair we let cherry at him first.” sugar suggests, and there’s a smattering of agreement from the other girls, which is enough to set it as a rule, you get to approach the attractive man before anyone else could take their shot.
it makes you excited for the individual sets to end as you make sure to touch up your lipstick and blot any sweat and oils from your forehead. you saunter out as soon as you are allowed, the last stripper still making her way off the stage.
your eyes immediately set sight on your target. “hello there, handsome.” you purr, watching as the handsome mans eyes slowly drag up your body. “can i interest you in a dance?”
he smiles, a closed mouth smirk that conveys powerful confidence. he doesn’t even use his words, simply pulls a bill out of his pocket. you smile with all your teeth back at him, knowing they’re framed by your bright red lips as you tug at the waistband of your lacy panties, letting him slip the folded bill against your skin, fingers briefly brushing against your hip.
you turn around as the man sits back in his chair. you place your hands on either side of the arm, giving yourself some support as you lower your ass over his crotch, hovering and moving side to side, teasing before you finally press down, letting your ass roll over his crotch and thighs.
“you like that?” you ask with a smirk, but the man know he doesn’t need to answer, not when you can certainly feel his excitement growing in his pants.
you continue your lap dance for longer than usual, even parting your thighs slightly to give yourself some pleasure as well, hoping its not too noticeable for anyone watching, and you’re sure some of the other girls are staring in anger as they have to give lap dance to old drunk men.
you rise up before turning back to the man. “would you like another dance? a private one in the back?”
he nods, standing up to follow you as you lead him into the back hallway with various doors, cracked if they’re empty, and locked shut to indicate someone else had already been taken back. officially, your club is a stripclub, but its an unspoken rule that lapdance time also meant that dancer could take clients back for anything they wanted to do in private, and that money would stay solely with the dancers, not needing to give the bouncers or bartenders a percentage.
“whats your name, handsome?” you ask, gesturing him into one of the empty rooms, the lights already low, red velvet couches pushed up on either side of the wall with a small table in the center. the room is small, but plenty of space for just the two of you.
“rafe.” he answers with a smirk, hand coming to your waist, touching the bare skin there. “and money is no object so whatever we do, don’t worry, i can afford it.” he pulls a bill out his pocket to prove it, tucking it again into your panties.
“hot and rich, i like that.” you hum.
“is there anything thats not allowed?” rafe asks, fingers rubbing over your sides, clearly excited to get started.
“wear a condom. no hitting or leaving any sort of marks on my body. any hard kinks, you need to tell me beforehand.” you explain quickly, having gone over the spiel with other customers before.
“just wanna fuck you.” rafe smirks, his voice deep and alluring, making you for once feel yourself getting excited about sleeping with one of the clients.
“why don’t you sit down then?” you gesture to the couch. rafe sits down with the same smirk on his face, his arms resting on the back of the couch as you begin to dance, able to hear the music from the main lounge of the club, using it as your tempo as you move your body, slowly taking off your lingerie under rafes watchful eye.
you get yourself completely naked, all while rafe watches you with that same look on his face, clearly growing in his pants, his cock pushing against the zipper.
you kneel down between his legs, tossing your hair to the side while you rub over his cock before undoing the button teasingly slow, followed by his zipper. “so big.” you coo. it’s usually what you say to make your average sized customers feel better, but for once you mean it with rafe.
“gonna suck me, cherry?” rafe asks, your eyebrows raising slightly when you realize that he remembered your name from when it was announced on stage before your set. “get that pretty red lipstick all over my cock?”
you tug his pants down in response, taking his underwear down with it as you watch his cock spring free, already hard and pulsing with need.
“gotta put a condom on for oral too.” you remember suddenly, having gotten so excited you almost started sucking him without it.
“aw, come on, i promise i’m clean.” rafe says, his voice so sickly sweet you hesitate, but remember the horror stories of other strippers getting stds from breaking rules.
“sorry handsome.” you shake your head, grabbing a condom out of the bowl on the table before sliding it over his cock. you make up for the condom quickly by sinking your lips over his dick, the red lipstick transfering onto the condom instead as you suck.
“oh, thats good.” rafe moans, leaning back against the couch as you bob your head, his hands moving to your hair.
you work your tongue against his cock as you suck, pulling out all the skills that you’ve learned in your years of working in clubs. you resist the urge to smirk as rafe moans loudly, not afraid to have his noises of pleasure heard.
you nuzzle yourself against rafes abs as his cock slides down your throat, swallowing repeatedly to not gag as you deepthroat him. you go to pull off when rafe pushes you back down, his hips lifting to keep your lips pressed against his pelvis.
you flutter your eyes closed and breathe for your nose as rafe pumps forward, lifting his hips off the couch to fuck his cock down your throat. you hum, creating vibrations around his dick while rafe grips your hair, tugging you down to meet his thrusts.
you are about to tap out, needing to take a real breath when rafes cock throbs in your mouth and pulls you off, your scalp burning slightly from rafe using your hair to tug at you.
“god, you’re good, i was about to cum.” rafe groans, relaxing back into the couch as you’re still kneeled below him, wiping away the spit that has fallen down onto your chin.
“how do you wanna fuck me?” you ask, standing up over rafe.
“hands and kneels, cherry.” rafe stands, shucking his pants off of where they are pooled around his ankles.
you climb onto the couch, arching your back to present your ass to rafe. he rubs his hands over your bum before rubbing his fingers through your folds, surprised to find how wet you already are.
“you're actually turned on, huh?” rafe smirks, taking his cock and rubbing it through your folds.
“yeah.” you whine, trying to push your hips backwards, to get him inside of you.
“damn cherry, you're acting like you're the one paying me here.” rafe laughs, and you know you should be more professional, and maybe you would have if rafe would have asked you to ride him, but being bent over the couch, waiting for his big cock to enter you has you actually turned on for the first time when with a client.
“come on.” you moan, arching your back to present your cunt to rafe, which finally has him satisfying your wishes, sliding forward as his cock stretches you open.
“fuck.” rafe groans, instantly snapping his hips forward, slick sounds echoing around the empty room as he moves.
you finally remember that you’re the stripper here and begin to push your hips back onto him, meeting every one of his thrusts. as soon as you start to move, rafe grabs onto your hips to help out, slamming your bodies together.
“such a pretty pussy, cherry.” rafe says, hands squeezing your hips, just gentle enough to not leave bruises.
“such a big cock.” you compliment right back. “feels so good in me.”
“yeah, you like this big dick, huh?” rafe smirks, moaning when your cunt clenches down on him. you’re determined to make him cum quickly, despite not wanting it to be over any time soon, you also want to impress rafe and show off your skills.
you spread your legs a little more and press yourself forward so you can sink down onto your elbows, giving rafe a whole new angle, which you can tell he likes from the groan that escapes his lips.
“so good for me, gonna have to come back here and fuck you more often.” rafe says, hips grinding into your ass.
“yeah, yes, please.” you whine out, reaching between your legs with one hand to rub at your clit, knowing you shouldn’t worry about yourself and just focus on rafes pleasure, but your clit is pulsing and begging to be touched as you massage it.
“such a dirty whore.” rafe says, and you can practically hear the smirk in his voice.
rafe continues to fuck you hard while you get yourself closer to the edge, surprised how easily your high is building as rafes cock pumps into you.
“you close cherry? can feel you clenching round me.” rafe asks, sliding his hands to your ass, grabbing your cheeks and spreading them open, using the grip on your bum to continue to pull your hips back onto his cock.
“yeah, real close.” you moan, making sure to exaggerate your noises, hoping it would spur rafe along, and it does as he starts to moan incessantly, panting out a mix of curse words and your stage name.
“gonna cum.” he manages to warn seconds before he releases inside of the condom, grinding his hips into you as it triggers your own orgasm, fingers rubbing speedily as you cum, slumping into the couch as shivers rack your body.
rafe keeps himself lodged inside of you until your highs are thoroughly rode out. he pulls out with a groan, not able to help himself as he brings a hand to smack your ass, not hard enough to leave a print despite your no hitting rule, but you let it slide, especially as your wetness drips onto the couch.
“did i wear you out cherry?” rafe smirks, taking the condom off and tossing it into the trashcan before getting his clothes back on.
“fuck yeah you did.” there’s no use denying it, rafe can tell by the way you’re still breathing heavily.
“can you hand me a towel.” you point towards a small rack by the door that rafe hadn’t noticed before, clean towels stacked neatly on it. rafe grabs one of the washcloths, stepping over to you as you manage to turn yourself to sit upright on the couch.
“let me, yeah?” he kneels down, one hand gently rubbing at your thighs while he wipes your fluids away from your cunt, cleaning you off with surprising gentleness.
“thanks.” you mumble as rafe tosses the cloth into the trash as you redress in what little clothing you were wearing.
“how much?” rafe asks, pulling out his wallet as you collect the money that fell out of your waistband when you stripped for him.
you rattle off the number as rafe opens his wallet, pulling out more than enough to give you a generous tip, but he’s clearly not hurting for cash.
“do you go on again tonight?” rafe asks as you tuck the money into the cup of your bra.
“yeah, i’ve got one more number.” you nod as you head towards the door, opening it for rafe.
“i’ll stay just for you then, cherry.” rafe says, walking out the door past you with that signature smirk.
you feel your cheeks blush slightly as you watch him saunter down the hallway and then take his same seat as you rush backstage.
“tell me everything!” sugar shouts.
“oh my god,” you flop down on one of the couched, muscles still tired. “he is BIG.”
taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @rafecamerongirl @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @emma77645
#rafe smut#rafe cameron smut#obx smut#outer banks smut#rafe fic#rafe cameron fic#rafe fanfic#rafe cameron fanfic#rafe fanfiction#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe x reader#rafe cameron x reader#rafe x you#rafe cameron x you#rafe imagine#rafe cameron imagine#rafe blurb#rafe cameron blurb#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron x f!reader#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron one shot
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i loved the hickey fic🥵
can i request a role reversal fic?
reader marks up joel and is unashamed about it
Pairing: Joel Miller x reader
a/n: thank you love, hope you'll like this although its been so long you probably forgot about this. and if you're interested, this is the fic they were referring to
It was just you and Ellie in the kitchen this morning. You were laughing about another funny dream she had last night, this one involving Joel trying to tame a gigantic sheep so he could ride it or something, she didn't quite remember the purpose, not that it mattered.
But as you both quite literally felt on the verge of tears from the image the dream was painting in your minds, the main character of said dream, appeared in the doorway, throwing you both a dirty look as if watching two of the three people he loved the most in this entire world didn't fill his old heart with pure joy.
"It's too early to be this chipper" he grumbled, walking to you to leave a quick kiss on your cheek as he reached for the coffee pot behind you.
A gasp sounded from the other sound of the counter
"oh my god what happened to your neck?!"
And it was then, that Joel Miller, the unafraid, stone-cold killer of a man that he was, turned red from hairline to neck.
"O-Oh fuck I-" His eyes widened, his hand going to cover your work on his neck, but it was all useless, because the second Ellie's eyes landed on the smirk plastered on your face, she knew.
"oh my god ew" she groaned, rolling her eyes, her focus going back to the eggs on her plate.
"You remember Janine, that woman I told you about?" you explained, talking to her
She laughed at that, remembering your conversation about that woman who's always flirting with Joel.
"you filled Joel's neck with hickeys because of her?"
Joel wasn't even red anymore, he was turning purple, his eyes were wider than a deer's caught in the headlights, and you suspected he hadn't taken a breath since he first entered the kitchen.
"this..." you smiled, trailing your fingers on Joel's neck "is my own little way of telling her to keep her hands off my man"
Joel choked, he literally choked on his own saliva and just then, just when he was about to have a heart attack, Tommy entered the house, his eyes immediately going to the image before him with more than a little amusement.
"What have I walked into?" he grinned, walking over to the kitchen "And why does my brother look a breath away from exploding?" he laughed, his hands gesturing to Joel.
"y/n here was giving me way too much information that I certainly didn't want to know" Ellie explained, looking at you pointedly for the last part of her sentence, making you chuckle.
"About what?" Tommy asked
"About the work of art I left on your brother's neck"
"wha-Ohhh" he breathed, smiling like a smug bastard as he understood what you were talking about "Janine tried something again I presume?"
"You presume right" you smiled, giving Joel a little kiss on the cheek and stifling a smile at how terrified he seemed "for the last time"
"You ok baby?" you asked, stroking his cheek
His gaze was on Ellie, his mouth parted in shock.
"You still with us man?" she asked, giggling softly, making him shake his head to try and get his mind to start working again.
And then, then the words came tumbling off his tongue, filled with what sounded like pure panic
"S-since when do you know what a hickey is!?"
Everyone in the room except him laughed, but when the shock on his features persisted, and Ellie regained her composure, she answered.
"I'm not a kid Joel, I know what sex is"
Another pang to his poor heart,
he felt all the organs inside him twist into a knot
what the fuck was happening?
Did she just say-
"sex!?" he cried, looking a second away from having a mental breakdown "I-I never said sex- H-how do you even know- I- You- You're too young- I-I"
"ok ok ok" you tried your best not to chuckle, intervening before his heart really decided to stop "How 'bout we go outside for a moment huh? Take a few deep breaths? How about that?" you murmured, soothingly drawing circles on his back
He looked at you then, looking every bit as disheveled as he sounded
"y-yeah" he swallowed thickly, "I-I think that's a good idea"
He looked back at Ellie for a moment to make sure this wasn't a nightmare and he didn't just make that up, before you both left the room.
And as if on cue, the second you did, Tommy and Ellie started laughing like maniacs.
"I don't think I've ever seen him so scared" Ellie laughed, as Tommy sat next to her, patting her back
"Neither have I" he chuckled, none of them saying anything before an idea came to his mind.
a hell of a funny one
"ten bucks if you tell him you know what porn is"
#joel miller#joel miller smut#joel miller x reader#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fic#joel miller fanfic#joel miller fluff#joel miller x fem!reader#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x y/n#joel miller x you#smut#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x reader#fluff#joel miller imagine#joel miller blurb#joel miller angst#fanfiction#the last of us#tlou#the last of us hbo#tlou hbo
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CASTLES CRUMBLING.
Memories of you are both cathartic and painful when he visits your grave.
ft. Kaedehara Kazuha, Xiao, Scaramouche/Wanderer, Lyney, Neuvillette x gn! reader.
cw/genre: angst.
if you enjoy this, reblogs and comments help more than likes !
✧ KAEDEHARA KAZUHA
Autumn. The time of year that brought warm memories to the wandering samurai despite its chilly winds.
Shades of scarlet coated Inazuma’s grassy plains, like a rain constituted by droplets of dawn light when the maple leaves swayed to the ground.
And amidst this scene, you.
You, who danced to the tune of the foliage floating in the breeze; you, who snuggled his red scarf closer around your neck when he wrapped it around you, taking in his sweet cinnamon-like scent; you, whose hand used to fit perfectly in his, as you ran your thumb over the scarred skin under his bandages.
Kazuha finds himself staring at those now. He remembers all too well how you used to wrap them around his hand. Your lips brushed over every indentation in his burnt skin, overwriting storms with sunlight and blue skies.
“All healed now.” You sing-sang, the tenderness of your kiss over the wrapped scars.
It feels empty now, his grasp, still searching for you every morning, but you’re out of reach.
Even now, as the wandering poet’s head rests against you, he can’t quite feel your touch.
“Hello, my dove.” He begins, fingers brushing over the dendrobiums surrounding you. Moondust lashes kiss his cheeks when the sunsets in his stare cloud over, the image of your smiling face behind his lids. “It’s already autumn, remember how you called it our season, my angel?” He softly says, turning his head slightly, so that his forehead partially leans on you. “The leaves are turning red already, I’ve picked some for you.” Kazuha utters, as he gently threads them around the stone.
Hard. Cold. So unlike the warmth you radiated. He sighs, opening his eyes, tender hearths to warm your paralyzed heart.
“I’ve been writing too…” Dampness pools around his lashes. “Haikus, poems, because I know you love them, hummingbird…” The samurai’s voice cracks, vision blurry, as he traces the letters of the name he used to breathe in between kisses.
Your name. The only one that will forever echo through his sweetest dreams, double edged now.
Droplets of molten moonlight slide down Kazuha’s cheeks, colliding with the earth separating you from the world.
“We will meet again, my dove.” He vows, kneeling on the grass, moist by his tears. “In some corner of the next life. I promise, love.”
As he stands up, retracing his steps, the wind picks up.
Kazuha clutches his red scarf closer to him.
Your scent still lingers.
✧ XIAO
Spring had never felt so cold.
The sun over Liyue’s mountains is too dull; the glaze lilies appear closed off; the days feel too long.
The conqueror of demons makes his way through Guili Plains, his steps slow, as if that would keep away a cruel reality that’s set in stone.
He’s coming to meet you, and yet he’s never felt so far away from you.
In the few steps that separate the yaksha from you, an infinity of memories and bittersweet dreams seem to wash over him. They mingle with the scent of morning dew over qingxins bloomed anew.
Qingxin. What he used to call you.
“Xiaooo!” You cooed, a smile sweeter than the treat you offered him alight on your lips. “Dessert’s ready, love.” You called, offering him the plate of delicious almond tofu.
It was always his favorite, especially the one made by you.
His cheeks took on a tint not unlike the lipstick marks you left on him when you felt like teasing him, peppering his face with your honeyed kisses. You always used to chuckle at the sight.
“Qingxin…” his voice quivered, in awe, gaze of gold widened, sparkly. “There is no need for you to go through this trouble for me…”
“Nonsense!” You cut him off, hands cradling his cheeks. “I love making your favorite food for you, baby.”
Now he brings one of his own scarred hands to his face.
It’s so cold in comparison to your comforting warmth.
Yet even colder is the grey hue of the heavy stone that comes into view: the one marking the spot where you were laid to rest for good.
Slowly, resigned to the inevitability of reality, the vigilant yaksha reaches you.
Even though he knows he will no longer have you.
Xiao’s whole form trembles when he leaves the handmade butterfly over your gravestone. Its petal wings are all crooked, his grip vice-like in his anguish.
Now the flower-made insect will never fly again. A crystal bubble, lit up on his darkest nights, inside which dreams warm and sweet were recounted, as long as the adeptus stayed in your embrace; now shattered, only sharp fragments left to pierce his heart.
“I’m sorry…” is all the demon conqueror can manage as greeting, the moment he sits before you, head hung low.
The karma he bears had never crushed him this badly.
✧ SCARAMOUCHE
Winter squalls leave nothing but ashes behind.
The layers of snow have started melting, decrepit twigs following, the aftermath of a furious gale, death in its wake.
The wanderer seems to verse in the bony hands of it often, after all. This life, this world… they only ever took from him, shattered mirrors as the only remains of promises to never come.
He rests the back of his head on the frigid stone. He doesn’t care about the last remains of snow seeping into his very crafted bones.
Scaramouche’s hand closes into a fist, dirt and melted ice on his skin.
“They took you away too…” The puppet breathes, inexistent puffs of his words sifting against the blackened skies in the cold. His indigo gaze is clouded over, despite stars littering every corner of the midnight above.
A lie.
Make believe. Like thinking he could be happy for once.
Turning around, Scaramouche presses his forehead against what’s left to symbolize you.
“Why?” He asks, teeth gritted, to stop the helpless quiver of his lip. “Why you too?”
The softness of your human embrace takes ahold of his memories, as you both lay beneath the endless firmament above.
“Have you ever wished upon a star, Kuni?” You asked, your warm fingers combing through the distant nights contained in his shiny locks.
“Pft, are you serious?” He used to retort, the mirrored galaxies of his stare coming into view as his eyelids opened.
“Very.” You stated, without stopping your movements, eyes never leaving the starfields above.
“Why?” He asked, focused on your profile, as if a part of him knew how ephemeral instants like this would become, committing to memory the only constellation that lit up his hollow heart.
“Because it’s nice, to hope, to believe in things… wouldn’t you agree?” You smiled down at him, tender hands cradling the coolness of his jawline.
“Huh, if you say so…”
“You know I’m right!” You chuckled, poking his cheek playfully, his nose scrunching up in feigned annoyance.
“Ugh, whatever.”
“Make a wish?” Your fingers found his in the night breeze, entwining together, the warmth of a small sun just for him.
“Fine…” He sighed, closing his eyes, lashes of concealed dreams leaning on his perfect cheekbones.
“I wished for forever with you.” He croaks out now.
An almost god brought to his knees by the treacherous fate written in devious stars.
His vision blurs, headed skyward, the universe above, a multitude of molten wildfires to him, raining down in flammable rain, his own tears the match to ignite them.
The failed god weeps. Winter burns.
✧ LYNEY
“You never know what can happen in the blink of an eye.”
Those were the words the magician once uttered, as your eyes lit up in wonder. He believes to recall it was a summer night, when his dusky gaze set on you for the first time.
Beaming and shining with excitement, you marveled at his sleight of hand, as the lumidouce bell on the performer’s hand vanished, only for its petals to have tinted in rosy shades of rainbow when the bloom next appeared in your hair.
If anyone had told Lyney, in that moment, that you’d end up putting his heart under spell, he wouldn’t have quite believed it.
But thinking back on it now, the time spent next to you certainly feels like mere seconds.
A peculiar figure sporting a top hat makes his way towards Fontaine’s graveyard.
His steps are monotone, the usual cheshire-like grin on his visage is nowhere to be seen, and in his hands, flowers abound.
Lumidouce bells.
The color of goodbyes, separations.
And the summer nights under which he used to kiss you.
“Please, Lyney! I want to see another one!” You begged, hands clasped together, eyes reflecting the last rays of the setting sun.
Your lover hums, his gaze, the backdrop against which the sunsets in your stare sparkled.
“Well, mon coeur,” the magician leaned forward, “I’ll have to charge you for it this time, you know.”
You pouted, marcotte colored lips irresistibly sweet, a bite of sugary peach in the heat of an early midsummer’s night.
“Close your eyes, my rose.” Lyney breathed, in the little dusk-lit millimeters separating you two.
“Okay.”
Warmth flooded around him the instant his lips enveloped yours, akin to fairy lights in the coziness of a familiar room, fiery arrows that linked two hearts. Your lover’s hands cupped your jawline, spells written in the caress of his gloved touch over your skin.
A new breed of magic, with the sun dipping behind the nation of hydro’s mountains to give the lovers privacy.
When he next opens his eyes, the allure has faded.
No trace of you remains, save for the emptiness and cold beside him.
And the only nightmare he can’t undo; your tombstone all too palpable, too real.
“You really never know how everything can change in the blink of an eye, huh?” Lyney utters, his voice raw, hoarse.
Despite the lumidouce bells’ petals shifting from dusk to dawn the moment he lays them to rest over you, the magician feels like he’s shooting arrows made of shadows; there’s no fiery beacon to light up this night.
The curtain closes when he steps away, rainbow roses bleeding and lonely in his wake.
The sun has set.
✧ NEUVILLETTE
Off-key birdsong and steely skies.
Those are Fontaine’s Chief Justice’s companions today.
Alone, he sits next to the ghost of someone he used to adore.
Someone he still loves.
Crystalline amethyst eyes scan the horizon. Even the seas seem turbulent today, relentless waves colliding against jutting rocks, as if by persistence alone they could cut through them.
The wailing ocean mirrors Neuvillette’s actions; as if by staring in the distance, he could somehow conjure you up back into the world, on forgotten dreams and pieces of flashbacks alone.
“It looks like it will rain soon, my dearest.” He softly says, the words lost in the monsoon overcasting the heavens.
Naturally, no answer follows, except for the agonized cry of a fallen sparrow.
The Iudex of Fontaine sighs. An upheaval in the blowing mistral combs through his hair, the sensation unlocking the pages of a diary once rose-colored, now only scattered petals over a lake that’s gone still for good.
“Isn’t the weather so nice lately, Neuvi?” You chirped, knees folded over the azure flowerbeds. Your hands were carded through your lover’s long locks, silver seafoam running almost hypnotizingly between your fingers.
Sunbeams glittered all around you when his eyes opened up to you, enigmas from the depths being laid bare for you alone.
“It is, darling…” He trailed off, one of his hands touching the side of your face, eliciting giggles from you.
Pink dusted over the pallor of his cheeks whenever you did that.
If only all days could be sunny, if only he could have kept the symphony of your laugh forever playing…
The sea’s surface turns charcoal, undulating with the low whistling of uprising gales.
Dark spots start appearing over the stone where your name’s been eternally put to sleep.
Beneath the blindfold, Justice mourns.
It’s raining again.
#astronetwrk#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#genshin impact imagines#genshin impact x you#neuvillette x reader#lyney x reader#scaramouche x reader#wanderer x reader#kazuha x reader#kaedehara kazuha x reader#xiao x reader#genshin impact angst#neuvillette angst#lyney angst#scaramouche angst#wanderer angst#kazuha angst#xiao angst#genshin impact#genshin impact fanfics#genshin impact x y/n#neuvillette x you#lyney x you#scaramouche x you#kazuha x you#wanderer x you#xiao x you#genshin imagines#genshin angst
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bitchy!reader being jealous at a party when she sees rafe talking to some girl and then finding out its a girl he has either slept with in the past or shes been all over him since before they were toghether. Reader makes a scene calling her out for being all over her man
yess but bitchy reader is a menace, she doesnt care abt any girls but she'll be soo mean to rafe abt it😭😭 this has to be pre-dating bc she would never let rafe disrespect her like that & he knows not to
when you catch rafe's eyes again, you feel a familiar sense of self-satisfaction course through your veins. of course he's looking—he should be surprised he can even look away.
you always look great, but today is something special, a pretty strapless dress decorating your body, something similar to the color of rafe's eyes. so, like always, it's no wonder he can't look away.
but you can't let the bastard think he's got you thinking about how often he is looking at you. it's all very confusing, so you don't glance back, trying to stay engrossed in your conversation with your friends. a few drinks and thirty minutes later, your eyes travel back to rafe.
and though he is still looking at you, there's some other girl in front of him, talking to him. the girl you recognize, someone who used to frequent tannyhill. on more than one occasion she's wandered down the kitchen when you and sarah are making waffles and sipping overpriced coffee. when you'd seen her, she'd been in rafe's clothes.
you hadn't cared much then, treated her the same you'd treat anyone. even now, with the girl in front of him trying to capture his attention and the idiot's eyes still on you, you feel the same—mildly annoyed at her, beyond irritated at him.
he thinks he can make you jealous. it's even cute that he's trying. this time you do stare back at rafe, a little annoyed at yourself for thinking about how cute he looks today. you like him in blue, you like that he's matching you.
"why are you staring at my brother?" sarah questions, and you smile in his direction.
"get your shit straight, sarah. he's staring at me." you wave at rafe, smiling sweetly before looking away. you don't have to see his face to know how it fell at your reaction.
"ugh. now he's coming over here. i'm not sticking around for this." you direct your smile at sarah.
"who asked you to stay?" she rolls her eyes at you.
"match made in heaven," she mutters, walking away in the other direction. when rafe approaches you, you stay seated on the couch, sipping your drink and observing your nails. they're baby blue—and you wonder how you'd come to that decision in the salon yesterday. of course, you know the answer.
"what the hell was that?" rafe barks, and you resist the eyeroll for as long as you can. last time he said if you rolled them at him again, he'd slap them out of your head, and though you want to test his theory, you'd prefer it in the privacy of his bedroom.
"just saying hi, rafe. you know i've met that poor girl before, at tannyhill. i'm surprised you even let her sleep over, you seem like the type-"
"can you shut up about her? what the hell was-"
"you already said that. and why would i shut up? you're the one yapping away to her. you know, you must be great in bed."
"excuse me?"
"i mean, you treat a girl that shitty and she's still willing to speak to you? she must remember something good. but knowing you it can't be for the conversation."
"..thanks?"
"you're welcome." you glance up at him again, but your eyes track back to the girl watching the two of you, the one he left behind to come talk to you. "i know you're a dick but don't be a dick. go finish talking to her. it's rude."
"i don't wanna talk to her."
"well, you're not talking to me."
"d'you have to make everything so fuckin' hard?"
"you're the one trying to make me jealous by talking to some poor girl! did you think i'd appreciate that?"
"why can't you just get jealous like you're supposed to?"
"you are such a jackass. maybe if you acted, like, a normal person-"
"oh, you're one to fuckin' talk. normal person my ass. you cuss me out every chance you get-"
"stop engaging in behavior that gets you cussed out then."
"shut up."
"you shut up!"
you both stare at each other for a moment.
"you wanna come to tannyhill with me?"
"yeah. let's go."
#lol this sucsk im sooo sorry#watching while trying to watch the mavs game so it took two quarters to write this#bitchy reader#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader
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sunshine
pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader
summary: a love-struck steve cooks you dinner for the first time
warnings: cursing, alcohol, bit of backstory, oversimplified summary, steve's parents kinda suck (when do they not), best friends to lovers, mutual pining, fluff, soft!steve
an: i think this is my favorite thing i’ve ever written. i'm so in love with these two. i hope you all enjoy this one as much as i do. * don’t copy my work * (also pretend there's a big city near hawkins for the sake of this pls)
wc: 6.0k
“Ow!” Steve hissed, nicking his finger yet again as he made his best effort to dice pesky onions. The knife was razor-sharp as it was fresh out of its packaging, having never been used yet. Frustrated, he squeezed the band-aid he'd spent a solid ten minutes looking for, tighter on his finger, earning a harsh sting.
"Goddamned knife," he whispered, tightlipped, but as soon as the complaint left his lips he wished to yank it back in. It was the chef's knife you'd bought him along with many other thoughtful housewarming gifts to celebrate Steve moving into his first apartment. Steve had insisted that you return some of the gifts, noting that "one gift was more than he could ever ask for".
In spite of his pleas, you didn't return a single gift. Of course, you didn't. You had bought items you knew Steve would need but would ultimately forget to buy for himself. Just to name a few, you'd gotten him a trash bin for his bathroom, a record player, and the best utensil set that the rest of your Family Video paycheck could buy.
Peering at the odd assortment of household objects you'd lugged into his barren apartment with a bright smile pulling at the corners of your lips, an expression of gratitude and bewilderment claimed his face. Steve's round, chestnut-brown eyes ogled yours as you ranted and raved, explaining your thought process behind each purchase.
The record player was for nights like these. Peaceful nights indoors, simply enjoying each other's company without the tense presence of his parents who would shout for him to turn that damn music down if he even thought about letting the needle hit the groove of the record.
"Now we can play music as loud and as much as we want to," he remembered you saying, blushing at your use of the word "we". Though you two were only best friends and have been since grade school, Steve couldn't help but fantasize about a life with you. You, drowning in one of his bigger-than-you t-shirts, prancing around the apartment as you listened to some your favorite records.
He'd begun pondering on how he would rearrange the bit of furniture he had, that'd allow for space for your belongings as well, before you lured him out of his thoughts, defending the bin.
From what he gathered, you bought the garbage bin due to his burning inability to keep his bathroom clean. Steve was someone who took great care of his appearance, always well-kempt and attentive to even the smallest of details.
His bathroom did not reflect this, whatsoever. He had a bad habit of harboring empty cans and bottles of Farrah Fawcett spray that littered the already limited counter space he had in his en suite bathroom.
Steve was such a boy when it came to tidiness.
Everyone knew that about Steve, though. What they didn’t know, however, was how skilled he was in a kitchen. After being left to his lonesome whenever his parents would venture off to one of their many business trips, Steve spent his nights learning to cook after his allowance dwindled and he couldn't afford pizza delivery anymore. The second he'd clock in for his shift at Family Video, he'd make a beeline to where you stood, stocking VHS tapes, and instantly began buzzing and bustling about the new recipe he tried the night before.
You had begged him to let you come over one night to taste one of his home-cooked meals, but his response was always the same. "You can't rush perfection, sweets. But I promise, when I'm ready to grace the world with my master chef skills, you'll be the first to know."
You would roll your eyes dramatically at him but admittedly, you felt a sense of pride wash over you whenever Steve would tell you about his cooking endeavors. It may not seem like a big deal to others, but you knew how much his parents being so negligent, so often, bothered him.
Though they were never the most warm and affectionate, there seemed to be a colder chill and heavier sense of loneliness in the house when they were gone. That's why you never denied Steve whenever he'd call late at night asking if it was okay to spend the night at your house.
He always felt at home there.
Steve learning to cook for himself meant that his parents' absence was finally beginning to help him grow; no longer craving validation and tenderness from his family. He got that when he was with you. That's what the utensil set was for. A silent sign saying that though his parents weren't there, you were.
"Don't get me wrong, sunshine, I love the gift, but why's this knife so funny looking?" Steve asked, squinting his eyes at the sharp object that looked like it was from some alien universe. It had three square-like holes infiltrating the blade, and the tip came to an up-turned point that split in two. The handle was the only average looking part about it.
"That, my friend, is a cheese knife," you answered matter-of-factly, gazing at the box that had all of the included utensils neatly labeled.
"They make knives specifically for cheese?"
"Apparently, yeah," you snorted, tossing the empty box off to the side of the room with the other discarded cardboard that you made a mental note to move to the recycling bin on your way out. Steve never recycled. Bad habit he picked up from his parents, you figured.
"Well, I can't wait to use my weird new knife. Thank you. Seriously," Steve smiled softly as he watched you with those big brown eyes that voiced his gratitude and sentiment louder than his words ever could.
"The best weird chef has to have the best weird equipment. You're welcome," you grinned, toying with the loose thread dangling from your distressed band tee, as your eyes collided with Steve’s.
Looking at Steve was hard.
In the midst of quiet and almost intimate moments like these, the nerves bolting through your body screamed at you to look anywhere else, but the greed of your heart yearned for you to keep drinking in the deep chocolate pools that were Steve Harrington's eyes.
The two of you gazed at each other for another second, though it felt identical to a blissful eternity, until Steve furrowed his eyebrows after registering what you'd just uttered. "Did you just call me weird?" He asked, hand on his hip as if he's offended, though he truthfully isn't because he's positive you're infinitely weirder than he is, and he's more than willing to debate with you for hours on that topic.
"Nooo," you sang, quickly turning away to distract yourself with some unpacking that Steve had called you over to help him with, which you happily agreed to. A little extra time with him was time well spent.
"Yeah, okay," he rolled his eyes. He happily tucked away the flashy silverware he'd poached from his parent's kitchen into the darkest corner of the drawer, leaving the less flashy but much more appreciated utensils you bought him, front and center, ready to be shown off.
"Oh those? My best friend got them for me. Aren't they nice? Did you know they make knives for cheese?" He imagined himself saying, hoping he'd get the opportunity to boast about them to his guests some time soon.
Steve smiled to himself at the memory, angling the cutting board that harbored a pile of diced onions that he'd at last conquered, into a bowl, sliding them off with the blade of a knife that was a lot less odd shaped compared to his trusty cheese knife. It didn't even have to be that specific memory. It could've been any imagery of you being the effortlessly sarcastic, intelligent, breath-taking person that you were, and it would be the warm light to inevitably guide him out of whatever dark mood that dared to plague him.
Steve was so helplessly in love with you.
April 14, 1978, he could never forget the day, was particularly dreary. So dreary it made Steve begin to question why the spring time was thought to be such a radiant, pleasant season when all it ever did was bring rain and provoke people with allergies. Steve slammed his blaring alarm off with a groan, never bothering to pry open his tired eyes.
The sky was dark and dreadful, concealing the golden rays of the sun he yearned to see. As he trudged through the house, reluctantly gearing himself up for yet another torturous day of middle school, Steve silently prayed for some unorthodox happenstance that would call for the canceling of school.
But much to his dismay, that wasn't the case.
When the bell pierced through the classroom speakers, alerting the beginning of Steve's favorite class, P.E., he rushed to the locker room, jumping into his gym uniform, as he was determined to continue his unfaltering streak of dodgeball victories.
Steve was in the zone, taking out his opponents left and right as if it was nothing. If dodgeball was an Olympic sport, there was no doubt in anyone's mind that he could've won multiple gold medals.
Then you came.
Sauntering into sixth grade gym class, adorning a lengthy, bright yellow dress with your hair done up, looking as anxious as can be. It was your first day at Hawkins Middle and you'd just transferred halfway into the semester, all thanks to your parents decision to move to the small town, leaving New York City and all your friends behind.
Everyone turned their curious heads to peer at you, whispering amongst each other, prompting you to clutch your books tighter to your chest as if to shield yourself. Your soft smile as you looked around at your new classmates instantly made Steve's chest and stomach warm and gooey inside, making him want nothing more than to walk up to you and convince you to be his friend. Steve hated how gossipy his classmates were, as it clearly made you uncomfortable, but he couldn't bring himself to look away either.
The way the illuminous medallion hue complimented your skin tone was nothing short of art. To him, you were the sun personified. The sun he was so eager to see.
Due to your lack of sports attire, Coach Daniels had you sit on the bleachers, watching as the other kids resumed their game of dodgeball after mumbling a "warm" welcome to you, per Coach's request.
Steve lost his first game of dodgeball that day. He just couldn't seem to focus when you were perched just a few feet away, thumbing through your withered book, looking like one of the prettiest girls he'd ever laid his adolescent eyes on. Steve, or the boy with the hella good hair as you dubbed him in your diary later on that night, was too enamored with you to be bothered by the taunts coming from his friends. He jogged over to you, offering to keep you company until fourth period began, which you happily accepted.
And ever since then, the two of you have been as thick as thieves.
"Hawkins PD, open up!" Steve recognized your muffled voice, though you deepened it, to imitate a police officer. Your signature three knocks followed, urging butterflies to erupt throughout his stomach, as he longed to see you. It couldn't have been more than twenty-four hours since the two of you had last seen each other, but even one hour without you was an hour way too long for poor Steve.
"It's open", Steve called, tossing a hand towel over his shoulder, setting the stove ablaze, planting a pot over the flame. Right on time, he thought.
"Hey, Harrington," you smiled as you struggled to enter, cradling two bottles of rosé wine and your purse in your arms, pushing the door open with the help of your hip.
"Hey, sunshine. Lemme get those for ya," Steve offered, stowing your bearings on the counter gently, while you kicked your shoes off, mumbling a "thanks".
A warm amber light casted from the ceiling of the kitchen spilled into the shadowy living room a few feet away, like a neglected can of paint. The only thing that remained un-melted by the darkness was the quiet record player, as if the generous light knew you'd be looking for it the minute you walked in.
"How was your day?" Steve smirked as he watched you rush over to the object he swore was the only reason you liked to come over, sifting through the vinyl's searching for your favorite one. What’s Love Got To Do With It by Tina Turner. Steve spotted it before you did. Absentmindedly, you responded, “Not too shabby, ya know? How was yours?”
“Yeah, it was alright.”
You crouched down to the two tier storage table, running a finger across the spines of the records, searching for your beloved song. It quickly became the song you most adored when you'd bought the tape for your Walkman a few years prior. Your days weren't complete unless you played the song at least twice, so much so that Steve found himself quietly humming the song to himself whenever he'd miss you. He even caught himself doing that dumb little finger dance you normally did whenever you listened to a song you really liked. He'd never tell you that, though.
Much to your dismay, you couldn't seem to spy that sneaky record. You dropped your hand disappointedly, faintly fearsome that it'd been misplaced. Steve's apartment wasn't huge, but it wasn't exactly tidy either. “It’s right there, sweets. To your left.” So you diverted your attention to the left. No Tina Turner. “No, your other left.”
“Here?” you pointed. Steve hummed in confirmation.
“Well, that’s not the left, Steve. That’s the right,” was your response that you punctuated with a roll of your tired eyes. Apart from knowing how to get to Skull Rock with his eyes closed, the boy had zero sense of direction. It was something you found both endearing and infuriating. It depended on the day, really.
“Potato, potahto.” Oh, Steve. Melting butter into the burning pan in front of him that he almost completely forgot about, all thanks to your beautiful presence, he began sautéing his diced onions along with some fresh garlic. "Well, speaking of 'potahtoes' you need to be cooking some, 'cause you promised me dinner tonight," you smiled tight-lipped, cocking your head at an angle.
You felt the unpleasant sensation of your stomach growling, cursing you, at the heavenly thought of food as your shift at Family Video earlier today was unforgiving to your non-existent breakfast. You fumbled with the vinyl a bit as the mouthwatering aroma of home cooking stormed your senses and Steve spoke once more. "Feisty today, aren't we?"
"Just a tad," you laughed quietly.
"Well, I hate to disappoint you but tonight we're not having potatoes. I'm making your favorite," he pointed, shuffling the pan to give it a gentle stir. He made sure to turn to face you in time to see your hopefully delighted reaction. "Alfredo?!" you spun around with a glittering grin, almost knocking over Steve's plant. A fake one, of course. A real plant was a bit too much responsibility for him.
At the nod of his head, your cheesy smile soften to a smaller, less toothy one as you watched Steve while he resumed cooking. What you failed to share with your best friend was that the last phrase you'd actually use to describe your day was "not too shabby". Besides waking up almost an entire hour past the start of your shift (Keith made sure to give you an earful about that) and everyone and their mother in town deciding to be at Family Video today, it seemed like your day was never-ending. The only thing keeping your mood from turning stink to sour was the idea of going to see Steve.
Steve was kind of magical in that way. Anger, sadness, anxiety, you name it, it was no match for Steve. Though he was no poet, he had this way with words that would never fail to make you feel so comforted. So safe. Any instance where Steve had to talk you out of whatever mental turmoil you were enduring, it felt you were being endlessly wrapped in a cozy, tight blanket, sheltering you from all the darkness.
How Steve knew you were having a shit day and needed your favorite meal along with your favorite boy? Lord knows. His ability to read you without even needing to be near you was nothing short of wizardry. But like you said. Steve was magical.
"You're the best," you proclaimed, prompting a mumbled sly remark from your chef for the evening, before the music began. Being here, along with the divine sound of Tina's ethereal voice and pasta boiling in water, was more than enough to make you feel like you were right at home, though your true address was miles away. When the time to depart would make its cursed arrival, it was never easy to leave, especially with the way Steve begged for you to stay, using those unfairly adorable puppy dog eyes that paired beautifully with his lengthy lashes, against you.
And it always worked. Well, not always. You had some degree of self-control. But more times than not, you couldn't help but to cave in to his protests. How could you resist? It was Steve.
With a satisfied grin that carved deep smile lines into his blushing cheeks, he'd tuck his sheets snug around your body, repeatedly asking you if you were comfortable enough. His bed was cloud-like, plush and doughy and his pillows smelled like his shampoo and conditioner, a hint of cologne on his comforter. It was like you were trapped in a cocoon of Steve. You wanted to tell him you were beyond comfortable, that there, in his bed, you were in just about your favorite place on Earth but, habitually, you concluded that a simple nod would suffice.
Crawling onto the empty space beside you, he made sure to face you, leaving a soft squeeze on your shoulder before humming "G'night, sunshine," closing his eyes and tucking his hands under his head. And like always, Steve was a perfect gentleman, dead set on never getting under the covers himself when you'd sleep over.
Guilt would disrupt your relaxation at the sight of the brisk night chill building little hills on his freckled arms, though you selfishly loved the way he'd cuddle up to steal some of your body heat. His plump lips would part as he drifted into a peaceful slumber, light snores and chirping crickets being your lullaby.
You hoped to have another night like that soon.
In the midst of times like those, storms of wonder and doubt raged on. Was Steve like this with everyone else? Were you being silly thinking that you and Steve could be more than friends? Being Steve's best friend for nearly a decade, you knew he wasn't exactly a prude. His King Steve era was honestly one of your least favorites. Though he reserved his usual tenderness and affection all for you, you've witnessed a whole slew of girls enter and leave Steve's life, and none of them looked like you.
You wanted nothing more than to be one of the girls he'd have leaned up against his locker, arm resting next to their head, cheeks fanned by his minty breath as he whispered honeyed words. You craved dates at the drive-in theater in Steve's burgundy 1983 BMW only to neglect the movie and end up making out, like he did with other girls.
When Steve would bring his latest lover around, desperately, you did your damnedest to bury your jealousy and and fill its grave with merriment for him, because if anyone deserved to be happy, it was Steve. But the girls at school only wanted to be with Steve because of his status and all the flashy things he could buy them.
The flashy things were dull to you, though.
You wanted to be with Steve because you wanted to hold his hand and press soft kisses to his cheek. To hug him a little tighter and little longer than a best friend normally would. To run your fingers through his fluffy hair whenever he would grow stressed because you knew it calmed him down. To make him breakfast in bed when he was sick and even when he wasn't. To love him your fullest potential.
But you had to settle for this. Calves tucked under your thighs with a blanket draped over your legs as you stared off into space, longing for someone you thought you couldn't have, not knowing he was stealing glances of you wondering what was running through your pretty little head.
Resting your arm against the back of the sofa, holding your head up, your lips were downturned in a pout, eyebrows pulled together as you studied the throw pillow a few inches away from you. A little pillow can't be that interesting, something has to be bothering you, he thought. He was unapologetically curious to know if pressing his lips against your own would make that frown melt into that sweet smirk you usually had.
Steve hated when you were unhappy. It made his mind race. Did someone say something to you? Did someone do something to you? Did you eat today? How was your shift? Why did you lie when you said your day "wasn't too shabby"? Obviously it was shabby. Look at your face. That tired and troubled, cute little face. What can he do to fix it? You were his sunshine, you deserved to be happy, always.
Giving the pot a final stir and turning the flame off, Steve carelessly tossed the grease-stained hand towel flopped over his shoulder, down by the sink, strolling over to where he'd earlier set down the two bottles of wine. White Zinfandel. Neither you or Steve were wine connoisseurs, but when you called Nancy panicking about how extensive the selection at the liquor store was, she swore by it.
Balancing two glasses and a single bottle of the rose-tinted alcohol, Steve took an extra glance at your face, deciding to scoop up the second bottle into his arms. By the looks of it, it was gonna be one of those nights.
You tried to hide your smile as you noticed he was coming over, a slight grin on his face as he set the glasses down. You and him both knew he was only coming to cause trouble. He set the delicate haul down on to the thrifted wooden coffee table in front of you, slipping you one of those comforting 'Steve smiles' he usually did.
Like the forgotten towel, he threw himself down on the couch next to you, warm hand having a much softer landing on the plush of your thigh; a familiar and welcomed touch. Habitually, you curled up closer to him, no longer able to hide your smile.
"Why so glum, chum?" He tilted his chin down, slightly poking his bottom lip out, as he looked at you through batting eyelashes.
Laughing through your nose and subsequently parading a grin that displayed nothing but teeth and hollow happiness, you remarked, "What do you mean? Don't you see me smiling?"
You were fooling absolutely no one. Steve knew you were sad. And, goddamn it, he was gonna get it out of you.
"You know exactly what I mean, you weren't smiling just a few seconds ago until I came over. You're welcome, by the way, I'm flattered that I have such an effect on you," he smirked, placing a hand on his chest in gratitude.
"Okay, now I'm glum again," you roll your eyes at his not-so discreet cockiness. You hid your face in your hands, resting your forehead on Steve's shoulder. It was hard with muscle, but soft with tenderness and safety. "I was smiling at the wine, for your information."
The palm of your hand that pressed against your face muffled your words, but Steve could still understand what you said, it was evident in the way your tone was laced with satire.
"Ah, yes, that makes way more sense" Steve replied, monotone. His thumb began coasting along your skin as he urged you, "Alright, jokes aside. How are you really feeling?"
Hoisting your head up, you almost answered before he continued, "And don't give me that 'not too shabby' crap 'cause that frown you had going on earlier already snitched on ya."
When the hell did he get so observant? Steve was no idiot, but sometimes things needed to be spelled out for him. But come to think of it, you never had to spell things out for Steve whenever it came to you. He just always had a way of knowing.
"I don't know, Steve. Honestly. Some days are just a bit tougher than others. Today was one of those days," you murmured, avoiding the attentive gaze he was burning into your shifty eyes.
He slowly nodded as he processed your words, head falling on top of yours as you again found comfort on his shoulder. His eyes fluttered shut as you began mimicking the affection he was giving you on your thigh, rubbing his arm through the creamy cotton material of his crewneck. You hadn't seen it before. This one was new. So were the jeans he'd paired with it.
"Why're you dressed so nice, Harrington?"
He laughed more to himself than to you. "Well, the food can't be the only thing that looks good, you know? Wanted to look nice too. It's our first dinner together, after all," he mumbled the last bit.
Steve felt the skin around your eyes tighten against his shoulder as your eyebrows scrunched together. "We've had dinner together before, though."
"This one's different," he replied, almost instantly. You'd hoped Steve's eyes were still closed so that he wouldn't see the bashfulness you were weathering, plucking the corners of your lips into a soft smile.
A silence fell between the two of you. Not unusual. Not awkward. Never unusual or awkward. There was a mutual cherishment of moments like these. Shamelessly invading each other's personal space on the couch as if it was made to only fit one person, music playing lowly the distance, but preferring to listen to the sound of the other's breathing.
"How can I make you feel better, sunshine?" Steve questioned, voice still hushed. The volume of your voice wasn't much louder as you responded, thoughtlessly, "You don't have to ask me that. You make me feel better without even trying."
"Oh yeah?" He craned his neck so that his head was impossibly closer to yours, awaiting your confirmation. Steve knew that you enjoyed his company, as he did yours, but he was only joking earlier when he gushed about having such an effect on you. It was now his turn to hide his blush, when you hum, nodding your head fervently.
These were the warm moments that confused you so much more than any subject in school ever did. And unbeknownst to you, it messed with Steve's head too. He'd never been this close with anyone before. Especially not with any of his "girlfriends" in the past. Sure, they'd cuddle and talk about their feelings. But it never felt the way it does with you. Steve was in love with you. It was hopeless.
And he had to make it known. Soon. If not, he swore he'd explode.
"Ready to eat?"
"Mhm," you buzzed, untangling yourself from the envelop of Steve. As he pressed his knuckles into the sofa, willing himself up, you reached for the bottle of wine and a glass, but your hand only made it so far until it felt the sting of a petty swipe from the boy next to you. "Ah ah, missy, dinner first. Lord knows how many hours its been since you last ate."
You snorted, "Relax, it hasn't been that long."
"Oh yeah? When was the last time?" He looked at you with raised eyebrows and an expression that said he already knew your answer was going to be ridiculous. And if there was anything you learned tonight, it was that Steve was highly skilled at knowing when you were lying, so instead, you left him with a goofy smile and giggle that told him he was absolutely right in his assumption.
"Yeah, that's what I thought," the spot where he sat went cold as he left to the kitchen, fixing two plates for the both of you. You moved the drinks and glasses over to the dining table, using a nearby lighter to ignite the accompanying lavender and vanilla scented candles. Tina Turner's vinyl was replaced with Tears for Fears' album Songs from The Big Chair instead, as Steve used his elbow to dim the kitchen lights, hands full with heavy plates of pasta.
"Oh my gosh, this looks so good! Good job, Stevie," you cheered, as he set your plate down in front of you, pouring you a much needed glass of wine. Your hands shook with hunger or excitement, or both, as you picked up your fork, ready to dig in. "Yeah, don't get too psyched yet. Let's hope it tastes as good as it looks."
"I'm sure it does."
His knee rests against yours as he sits adjacent to you, gathering food on his fork, though his eyes are peering at you, awaiting your verdict. The mouthwatering smell of garlic, butter, cheese and other heaven-sent elements overwhelm your nose and you feel like you can't eat it soon enough. You pause for a beat and so does his heart, hand over your messy mouth as you chew. Steve's hand twitches as he contemplates wiping the sauce from the corners of your lips and licking his finger clean.
"Steve," you begin, eyes flickering shut. "I'm gonna need you to cook for me every night. This is so fucking good." The tension in his face eases at your palpable delight, mission well accomplished. He was proud of himself. Very proud. Almost as much as you were of him.
You throw your head back, the purest form of satisfaction consuming you. "I'm glad you like it, I've been trying to nail it for weeks," Steve laughs, finally taking a bite for himself.
"Well, you've succeeded," you beam, washing it down with a sip of wine. Everybody Wants to Rule the World begins playing and you smile at Steve, knowing it was his favorite song at the moment. You nod your head along as Steve hums. A truly peaceful pocket in time.
Through the large windows opening the living room to the rest of Hawkins, you had the perfect view of the bright lights and mountainous buildings from the neighboring city. It was like the sky had flipped on its axis and the stars weren't in the sky anymore, they were among the trees and high rise properties.
"Steve, look how pretty," you point towards the window as his gaze shifts from you to raindrop-riddled glass. "I love being able to see the city so close. Sucks that we can't see the stars, though. I've always wanted to go stargazing."
"Yeah, I remember you mentioning that a while ago. We gotta go one of these days," he replied, shoving a forkful of alfredo into his mouth.
"Oh, did you wanna go too?"
He shrugs his shoulders, chewing before speaking, "Eh, I'm not really a big stars guy. Besides, if I wanna see a pretty little light, all I gotta do is look at you," he says inattentively, going right back to eating as if he hadn't just said the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to you.
"Shut up, Harrington," you roll your eyes, letting out a half-hearted laugh as you take your last bite. How could he flirt with you so easily? So carelessly? Couldn't he see that you loved him and that whenever he says things like that it does something to you? Clueless boy.
"I'm serious. Why do you think I always call you sunshine?" He replies, not a hint of irony in his face.
"Steve," you warn, sitting back in your chair. You didn't know where this conversation was going, and you'd be damned if you got your hopes up for what you always got whenever you did: absolutely nothing.
"It's why I love when you wear yellow. Reminds me of the first time I ever saw you," he pressed. He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Clueless girl.
"Steve," your voice wavered. "What? Why do you keep saying my name like that?" He laughed, dryly.
He grew worried that he was saying too much. Saying things that a person shouldn't say to their best friend. He took a sip of his wine. Then another. Then another. He was considering just downing the whole glass. Maybe he was saying too much.
Screw that, he was in love with you.
"What're you saying to me right now?" You charged, voice a little harsher than what you'd intended, but you demanded an answer. A straightforward one. "I'm saying that I'm done hiding it."
"Hiding what?"
"That I love you."
The revelation yanks your parted lips shut, unsure of what to say next. You had dreamed for what felt like a lifetime for Steve to say those words to you and at last, it was no longer a dream, but instead reality. The rapid pace of your heartbeat could be felt in your chest and ears, and the butterflies in your stomach were more wild and untamed than ever before.
Steve's eyes didn't leave yours, though the stillness from you was killing him. The silence between you two that was once never awkward or unusual, was now painful and nearly unbearable.
Your dilated pupils scanned over his face, relentlessly. The jokey, teasing grin that he often sported when he was messing with you was unaccounted for. Holy shit. The gate to your thoughts opened once more. "You're serious," you whispered.
"How could I not be?" Steve watched you with adoring eyes, the warm light of the candle giving the melted chocolatey pond the sweetest infusion of honey.
"Kiss me."
Forks and butter knives fall to the ground with several, loud unpleasant clanks as Steve leans over the square dining table, hungrily pressing his lips against yours. His lips are garlicky and a little chapped, as yours probably are as well, yet the kiss is nothing short of perfect.
His mouth does a passionate dance against yours as you follow his lead, embracing the plush little pillows with your own. It was both everything you've imagined it'd be and nothing like you'd thought at the same time. You already knew Steve was an amazing kisser. Anyone who went to Hawkins High knew it. But experiencing it for yourself was completely different and new. It was euphoric.
The two of you have to reluctantly pull yourselves off of each other to catch your breaths. This moment was a long time coming.
Steve's hands are still holding onto to either side of your face, unwilling to let you go just yet. Truly savoring every second of the present. His breath fans across your cupid's bow, as he smiles against your lips. "You drive me crazy, you know that?"
Giggling, you wrap your palms and fingers around his wrists, rubbing your nose on his. "Sorry," you shrug, feeling his thumbs caress your warm cheeks.
"Don't be," he shakes his head, engulfing your soft lips into another kiss.
message from jojo: pls comment and reblog if you enjoyed! it means a lot <3
#stranger things#steve harrington#steve and sunshine#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x fem!reader#steve harrington x black!reader#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington fic#steve harrington oneshot#steve harrington x you#steve harrington headcanon#soft!steve harrington#stranger things 4#joe keery#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington x poc!reader
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JAMES POTTER | 10:44 ⏤KISS CAM
SUM. : you end up on the kiss cam but not with james...
G. : modern au ; muggle au ; hockey player james au ; secretly dating au
LENGTH : 0.7k
NOT PROOFREAD OR EDITED
You’ve been in a secret relationship with the James Potter for quite a while now, well renowned ice hockey player. It was a chance meeting actually, a chance meeting that left quite a lasting impression on the both you, several chance meetings happened after that and you eventually found yourself falling in love and happily engaging in a private relationship.
It was a whirlwind, shockingly fast but blissfully pleasant all at once, your feet in the air and flying through the skies, endlessly on cloud nine. Now, it's already been half a year and you haven't missed a single one of his games. It's still taking you a little time to get used to understanding how the game works and its rules but James was quick to assure you that that wasn't important.
"My favourite part of the game is being able to meet you when its over for a kiss well-done," you still remember his cheeky, boyish grin and the fluttering ache in your heart. All he has to do is flash you that charming smile and you were jelly.
He's such a loverboy, so tender and sweet, a true gentleman but also goofy and ridiculously charming in his own audacious way. His liberal manner of loving meant that you didn't go a day without hearing an 'I love you' or being pulled into a sudden hug or getting a playful kiss on the cheek. In return, you tried to calm his affections but always succumbed to him in the end - like voluntarily free-falling from a skyscraper and always knowing you would land on a thick cushion of fluffy clouds and secure parachutes.
You've never been so content in your life; naturally your eyes never left James and him you. He loves your timid affections, subtle but sweeter than honey, first unnoticeable but with a slight squint he could almost turn blind from how radiantly you emit your love for him. He's never letting you go. If there is so much as an hint of you leaving him, he's giving his all into making sure you stay, he'll shout and scream and cry and fight, no matter what it takes.
He's impulsive and hot headed, cheeks burning an almost darling pink when irritation furrows his brows and sets flames ablaze behind his eyes. James's eyes right now, however, weren't just a sea of flames but a volcanic eruption. His usual glasses weren't in the way of his eyes, only the small strands of his sweat-drentched hair provided you with some shield to his wrath. You were shocked, in your six months being together, you've never seen him so infuriated but it was then that realised you situation - you were sharing the big screen with a random guy for the 'Kiss Cam'.
The teams were on a break so of course James had seen it and was now blowing smoke fumes out of his ears and nostrils, glaring through the glass and at the guy who was attempting to lean in for a kiss as he skates his way furiously towards you. If the glass wasn't in the way, you feared that James would have beat the man to death beside you. You mentally berate yourself for having realised the situation too late and scramble say that you didn't want to partake in any kiss. You were just about to open your mouth and stop the stranger when the love of your life angrily slams his headgear into the reinforced glass before you in warning.
"Stay the fuck away from my girl dickhead!" James shouted in anger, his thundering voice keeping the glass shaking as the stranger beside you immediately backed away. Lost in the moment and finding his unusual overprotectiveness overly cute, you step up, kiss your hand and press it into the glass in front of his lips in a pseudo kiss.
"Thanks James," you smile, staring lovingly into his eyes that have visible softened at the sight of your gorgeous face.
"Kiss me twice later," you do nothing but nod and he's heading back to group with his teammates once more. You suppose your relationship isn't so private anymore.
A/N : thoughts, darlings? i know james is typically associated with rugby but i can see him as an ice hockey player too - please someone tell me that they think the same TT_TT
PART 2 | NAVI
#james potter x reader#james potter#marauders#james potter x you#james potter fluff#james potter fanfiction#james potter imagine#james potter fic#marauders fic#the marauders#𐂂 : TIMESTAMP
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YN YLN and Charles Leclerc Take a Couples Quiz
pairing: charles leclerc x reader
author's note: this has been in my drafts for wayy to long, so ive decided to just finish it off and post it. im sorry lmao but i just couldn't watch this rot away in my wips any longer.
masterlist
๑ ⋆˚₊⋆────ʚ˚ɞ────⋆˚₊⋆ ๑
The video cut to you and Charles, sitting opposite each other in front of a yellow to red gradient, smiling at the camera.
"Hi! I'm YN", you say cheerfully.
"And I'm Charles"
"And we are here to take a couples quiz!"
You are handed a stack of questions from a person off screen, and turn towards Charles.
"Are you ready?"
"Is that the first question?" he retorts.
Your face drops, now showing slight annoyance but there is still a small smile you try to hide. "That's it. Minus 1 points."
"Oh c'mon! That is not fair."
You turn to argue but the video cuts to a different scene in which you ask the actual first question.
"What things do I have, of yours, that are my favourite?
He looks up in thought before chuckling and replying. "Theres a lot, you steal my stuff all the time."
You grin. "Yes, but what's my favourite?"
"My shirts? No wait! My bracelets?" He asks.
"Yeah!" you exclaim. Turning to the camera you add. "He gets so many bracelets from fans and they are all so pretty. We keep them in a bowl on our dresser so I like to take a few whenever I go out."
Looking back at Charles, you add. "You didn't know the answer, but you still got it right so I think you deserve half a point." The staff behind the camera gives you a thumbs up, noting it down for when they would edit the video.
"Ok! Next question- which song of yours is my favourite?"
He looks at you, his eyes widening with a confused expression on his face. He looks at the camera crew and then back at you.
"C'mon, I only have 2 it's not a very hard question."
"Then answer it." you reply, looking at him with a small smirk.
"Fine. Uh, AUS23."
"Wrong!" you exclaim, laughing at the way his jaw drops in surprise.
"Then what? I know its not Miami."
"Its the one you wrote for Baku." you slyly say, knowing fully well that he hadn't released it and you were possibly the only one other than him to have heard it.
You look down at the cards you had been given, reading off the next question. "What is the first thing I eat in the morning?"
You see his smirk growing in your peripheral vision and cut in before he answers. "If you dare make a joke, I will murder you."
He laughs at that, chuckling as he looks up to think. "Um. Breakfast? It's different things every morning, but if I wake up before her then I make cereal."
Noticing the evident confusion on the faces of the cameramen, you elaborate. "It's the only thing he's allowed to make without me present. The last time I let him cook alone, he burned the pancakes and half our kitchen."
Turning red at the story, he interrupts. "Okayy, next question amore."
"Which side of the bed do I sleep on?"
"Left."
"If I could get a tattoo of something, what would it be?"
"A bouquet of flowers. The flowers would be your favourite and my favourite together."
You are shocked at his response. "How did you remember that? I told you that ages ago!"
He smiles slyly to the camera. "That is why I am the best boyfriend, there is no need for these silly questions I am already the best. She told me so in be-"
"Right. Next question." You cut him off, eyes widening as you figure out where he was going with the statement. "This is the last one. If I could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?"
"Oh this is easy. Italy. You are always talking about how much you love it. But you also love Monaco and France so depending on how you feel, one of those three."
"Well.", you look at the camera, "I think that answer deserves 2 points." Handing your questions off to the side, you turn to Charles who has started reading the first of his questions.
"If I had a ticket to anywhere in the world, where would I go?" he reads. "This is similar to yours", he mutters.
"Home", you say confidently. "He's a mama's boy, tries to go back home as much as possible."
He blushes slightly before nodding to the camera. "Yup, 1 point."
"What was I wearing on our first date?"
You reply quick as lightening. "A shirt and pants. Very gentlemanly, I remember thinking, probably the best first impression I've had of a guy."
His eyebrows raise at the confession, cockily tilting his head in the direction of the camera. "You heard her! Next, what is something I hate?"
"A lot of things, Char."
"Is that your final answer, cherie?"
"Um." you pause. "Oh I know! When manipulate stuff that you say. It makes me really mad too. It gets really tiresome when they take stuff that Charles has said that turn into into a different story altogether."
"Thats true, I do hate that." He smiles at you, reaching over to squeeze your hand once to say thank you.
"How many kids do I want?"
"3, because you have 2 siblings. But, you said you want as many as I am comfortable with!"
"Of course, amour. You're the one whose going to be carrying them, your choice is more important here. What is something I get annoyed about?"
"Oh, when Seb and Carlos beat you at those Ferrari games you play."
His jaw drops in faux offence, shaking his head as he reads out the last question on his cue card.
"What is one my hidden talents?"
You look straight at the camera, not dissimilar to The Office. A smirk grows on your face and the lens zooms in. In the background Charles can be heard complaining.
"Oh I see! You can make these jokes, but I cant?"
The video cuts to the wider angle once again, you and Charles wave at the camera.
"Thanks for watching our couples quiz! I think it's clear that I've won."
Charles rolls his eyes, eyes shining with admiration and love for you. "Bye everybody."
Comments:
charleslover: OH MY GOD!! THEY ARE SO IN LOVE IT KILLS ME
ynandcharles: their facial expressions always kill me
username89: where do i get a charles leclerc bcs i will willingly offer all the money i have
doratheexplorer16: their love for each other hurts
#formula 1#f1#f1 x reader#charles leclerc#formula one#vanishingcherry#leah writes ──⋆˚₊⋆ ๑#charles leclerc one shot#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc blurb#formula one x reader#formula 1 x reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc x female reader#charles leclerc fanfic#charles lecrelc#scuderia ferrari#couples quiz
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You really shouldn't have shrugged your husband of convenience like that when he hinted to you about sex.
Yan! Drug Lord Husband x GN M! Spouse
(Non-con/Dub-con/con?; asphyxiation)
He really had reached his limit; putting up with your distant self who was only all about framed perfection but never the household's perfection.
It was a marriage arranged by convenience, per se. As the next heir of a crook, you possessed wealth, intelligence, and relation to match his, the drug lord and one of the nation's biggest threats.
What he expected was not something as cold as this when he first saw you. A well-bred heir, growing up in opulence unlike him, a stray mutt who grew up in poverty. Unlike you who was sheltered by the crook of your parent, he was orphaned without a name to remember.
The two of you were different right from the inside to the outside. So it was only natural that he expected the marriage's life to be hollow from any connection.
And not miserable.
Kaspar was a man of avarice himself despite embodying the sin of a glutton, alas his little heart, his little inner child couldn't help but yearn for a sliver of your warmth.
To feel the warmth of your body colliding with his, not out of scheduled marital duty but out of urge and yearning. To chat with you about the weather on the dining table instead of relaying what your parent had asked you to relay to him.
And to hear you reassure his little heart just for once that he had long grown up as a fine man and not a stray mutt.
You had accidentally read his diary, so why, instead of a face flashing in pity, did you show him a face of indifference?
You apologized curtly after you were caught reading it, and left without saying anything more. Not a touch or reassurance nor a glance.
That very night too he decided to test your conscience. A shake by your shoulder, a whisper above your ear. The two of you rarely sleep together, let alone perform marital duties.
But instead of giving him the illusion of pity from your conscience, your scrunched-up brows and elbow had snapped his consciousness into half.
He had always been the gentleman to you so naturally you were surprised when something akin to a beast strangled you as he had his way with you, rough and merciless.
Just like the stray mutt he was, forced to bear its canines and defraud for survival. You had always been the sheltered dog despite the life you lived in. You had seen a fair share of beasts in the underground world.
But what you had never expected was to have a beast have its way with you.
Black dots started to cloud your vision as you failed to catch even just a breath. The pressure around your neck had you coughed up in pain as your hole was stretched without any proper lube.
Yet oddly enough, you find this enjoyable.
Being the sheltered dog you were, you craved for something indescribable. Something you had never felt. And you knew what it was. Pain. Horror. Fear.
All three surged into you tonight, your eyes rolling behind out of suffocation and pleasure, your sex made it evident to him which earned a husky chuckle from his lip.
"You should have just told me you enjoyed being abused like this early on, love. That way, I wouldn't have to fuck you to boredom all this time."
Yes. You knew deep down what you were. The heir who gets off from pain, evident when the bullet was shot into your limb that one time.
The moment you read his diary was the moment you shuddered in expectation. A stray who had to fight for survival, surely he knew his way around digging his canines into his enemies instead of just ordering his men around right?
You wrapped your arms around him for the first time, and with a hoarse gasped voice, you pleaded, "Do me how exactly I like it, my love!"
#4k LIfE Project Celebration#Kaspar the Drug Lord#Yandere x Reader#x GN Reader#Yandere Smut#Yandere Scenarios#Yandere Imagines#Yandere Writings#Yandere OC
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Don’t sit down ‘cause I moved your chair
| Megumi x reader
Summary- "Expect the unexpected; Kugisaki and Panda are on a mission to get Megumi and you together. The two times, Nobara and Panda set you two up, and the one time they didn't need to do it."
Warnings - reader use a skirt, use of Y/N one time, poor english, one mention of the pronoun her I think its just once I can change it tho.
A/N- This is part of the universe of 'Suck It and See' inspired by Arctic Monkeys' album and Alex Turner's 'Submarine' EP.
Panda didn’t mean to snoop on Maki. I mean, come on, he was just chilling in the classroom waiting for the class to start when Maki barged in, shouting something like, “At this point, we should lock her with Fushiguro in a closet and hope she makes a move.” It took Panda less than five seconds to figure out that the 'her' Maki was talking about was you. He watched Maki leave the room, still clueless about his presence, chatting away with who he thought was Yuta on the phone.
Panda didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but now that he knows, he has to tell Kugisaki, right?
“I think Y/n likes Fushiguro,” Kugisaki eyes widening as she connected the dots in her head. Everything suddenly made sense: how you get all flustered around him, how you always save him the last juice he loves at breakfast and give it to Inumaki to put it in Fushiguro's usual spot, how your face slightly drops when he mentions the date he had with the girl from the coffee shop, your eyes going soft when he talks, and Maki always trying to pair you two up for training. “I think they'd be a great match,” Panda adds, and they both grinned.
I
You have been waiting for an hour now outside the cinema. Fantastic Beasts is about to start, and Panda isn’t responding to his phone. You were supposed to meet here after spending your day at the shopping center.
“Hey Panda, I am at the entrance. The movie starts in fifteen minutes; you should hurry.” This is the fifth voice message you have left him. With a sigh, you turn your head to the street to see if you can catch him making his way to the theater, and that’s when you feel a hand on your shoulder.
“Hey,” you froze. It couldn’t be. You turned to face him. “Hi,” you blurted out, realizing Megumi Fushiguro stood before you, looking as gorgeous as always, his school uniform replaced by jeans and a hoodie. “Panda told me to let you know he couldn’t make it, but we can still go in if you want,” he offered.
You nodded following him inside, feeling like a little kid. “Ye...ah, cool, fuck Panda” you muttered behind him.
Did Panda invite him without telling you? Does Panda know about you liking him? You couldn’t say for sure.
“I didn’t know you were into Harry Potter,” he remarked, waiting for you. “Yeah... I’m kinda obsessed,” you admitted, blushing a bit, earning a chuckle from Megumi. “I'm kinda obsessed too,” he revealed, grabbing the tickets. You smiled, appreciating his easygoing vibe.
“I’m paying you, just let me know how much I owe you,” you say as the employee hands him the tickets.
“Don’t worry, Gojo sensei gave me enough to buy this whole place,” he says, brushing it off. “Do you want something to eat?”
“Yeah, uhm sure,” you said, swallowing hard, gathering the courage to keep talking.
“You like Harry Potter too, movies or books?” you wonder, not daring to look at his eyes.
His smile made your heart skip a beat. “Are you kidding? Books, of course,” he replied, and you couldn’t help but smile proudly. “Which book is your favorite?”
After a moment of thinking it, he responded, “Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix.”
“Incorrect” you said playfully, grabbing the popcorn and moving away. “What do you mean incorrect?” he asked, looking amused. “Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban is right there” you argued, making him laugh.
You held the popcorn a bit too tightly, struggling to focus on the movie. You knew you were doing a bad job because by the end of it, you couldn’t remember a single thing besides Megumi's profile in the light.
As you walked back to school, chatting and feeling more comfortable, you found yourself agreeing with every single opinion of Megumi, encourage him to keep talking about it just because you didn’t have a single clue about what happened; you’ll have to see it again.
Later in your bed, you can’t help but think that maybe talking to Megumi Fushiguro wouldn’t be as difficult as you thought. Maybe you should keep doing it because talking with him was better than just staring at him from afar.
II
"Maybe you two should go together," Kugisaki suggested, smiling at her idea. Maki raised an eyebrow as she looked at you “It’s fine,” you said aloud. “I mean, yeah, I wouldn’t mind, of course, if you want, Fushiguro?”
Panda managed to hide a satisfied smile from you, but Maki's suspicious look caught him. “Sure thing, I’m down for it. It'd be nice not to deal with a crybaby while hunting for books." he remarked mockingly. “I’m not a cry baby!” Kugisaki protested, and you chuckled at the argument unfolding in front of you.
The library turned out to be smaller than expected, but your eyes lit up at the sight of shelves filled to the brim with books. The soft lighting and the background music of an Arctic Monkeys song made the atmosphere cozy; you could move here in a heartbeat.
“You weren’t lying when you said it was pretty,” you commented, turning to see Megumi standing casually, hands in his pockets, shrugging with a smile. He had a smile that could melt hearts. God, someone needs to make him stop smiling like that at you; he’ll kill you one of these days.
“You haven’t seen the best part” he said, taking your hand and leading you upstairs, making your heart race.
The second floor was packed with even more books, stacked everywhere, and inviting chairs that looked perfect for long reading sessions. It was like stepping into a book lover's dream. “This is amazing,” you whispered, caught up in the moment. Megumi wore a proud smile, happy to share this hidden gem with someone who appreciated it as much as he did. He kept holding your hand for a moment longer, feeling a warmth spread in his chest, before letting go, leaving the pleasant sensation behind.
“Oh my god, look at this Pride and Prejudice edition,” you said, admiring the gold engravings on the cover. “Oh, is that Heartstoppers?” you exclaimed, passing the book you previously held to Megumi.
If you asked Kugisaki or Panda, they’d say they had never seen Fushiguro smile so much before. He was admiring you from behind, helping you hold the books you picked and reaching the higher manga shelves without complaining.
"Looks like it’s going well.” Panda said a bit too loudly, breaking the calm atmosphere. Fushiguro's head turned, and they held the books they were 'reading' higher to cover their faces. “Shut up,” Kugisaki scolded him.
You didn’t notice, too busy looking at all the books, but seriously, did they think Fushiguro Megumi was that stupid to not notice Panda? Whatever they were planning, he will make them spill it, but for now, he had to hold your books.
“Look, that’s one of my favorites,” he pointed with his head at The Song of Achilles, getting into your little bubble again. You took it without questioning him or the book, adding it to the pile.
III
You’ve been craving Matcha for a week now, and you’ve been begging Maki to accompany you to the coffee shop for days. and still every time she answers with "Not all of us are first-grade sorcerers, and yet you still need to practice for the exchange event, which is literally tomorrow."
She’s been relentless; dragging you out for early morning runs at five in the morning so you can practice your hand-to-hand combat skills before seven, insisting, “Your curse technique outperforms at long distance, but what if they get up close? You need to be ready.”
Despite your intense training, all you wanted was a relaxed afternoon sipping on a cold Matcha. Yuta would have easily convinced Maki, you thought, missing your best friend dearly.
“What’s with the long face?” Kugisaki interjected, sitting next to you on the benches, watching Maki kick Panda's butt. “Nobody wants to get Matcha with me,” you pouted. Kugisaki’s brain starts working, but before she can offer to go with you, a male voice interrupts, “I'll go with you,” Fushiguro beats her to it.
"Really? You don't have to," you replied.
“Nonsense, we're friends, right? I enjoy spending time with you; you're better company than all these clowns,” he says, and you barely caught the rest after "friends."
Okay, that hurt a little. Your mind raced with a flurry of thoughts as you studied Megumi's expression. Of course, he doesn’t see you as more than a friend; he's so cool, and you're... well, just you. Why is he staring? Why is no one talking? Oh yeah, right, “Sorry, yes, we are. So, see you at five at the entrance?” you blurted out, snatching your backpack filled with clothes and some of Maki's weapons before rushing off, "Bye."
...
“What if I don’t go?” you contemplated twenty minutes before your scheduled friends date with Fushiguro.
“He didn’t do anything wrong. How is he supposed to know you want more than friendship?” Maki questioned, resting on your bed.
"Whose side are you on?" you retorted.
"Yours, but let's be real, you're being a tad irrational. Slip on the blue skirt and just go."
Megumi Fushiguro wasn't quite sure why he arrived early, but he felt an inexplicable urge to see you sooner; waiting longer was out of the question. And it was worth it, seeing you in that blue mini skirt and oversized sweater, a shy smile gracing your face as you spotted him. You looked even cuter than usual, he considered.
“Ready?" he questioned.
"Yeah, let's go," you affirmed, beginning to walk alongside him towards the coffee shop.
The café bustled with activity; it seemed like everyone had the same Matcha cravings as you did. Navigating through the crowd to reach the cashier proved challenging, but you preferred the subtle movements over pushing people or raising your voice to get through.
You were focus on not inconveniencing anyone when two hands settled comfortably on your waist, guiding you forward and providing a shield against the bustling bodies.
You held your breath; even through the layers of your sweater, you could feel the warmth emanating from Megumi’s hands. Finally reaching the cashier, he removed one hand, leaving the other on your lower back. "Hey there, what can I get you?" the cashier's words snap you back to reality.
“Uhm...” damn it, did you forget how to talk?
"One Matcha latte and one black coffee to go, please" Megumi says watching you struggling.
"Sure thing, regular milk?" you shook your head in disagreement. "Almond milk, please," you requested. The cashier nodded, and before Megumi could reach his wallet, you’ve already paid.
“That’s not fair,” he complains; you had to get your eyes checked because you thought you saw him pout.
“It’s fine, don’t worry; you always pay” you reassured him, moving towards the other end of the counter, Megumi's hand still lingering on your back.
"Hey, Megumi," a girl called out from the opposite side of the counter. She was strikingly pretty, flashing a wide smile at Megumi, her attention fully captivated by him until she noticed you a moment later. "Oh, sorry, hi," she acknowledged you, then shifted her gaze back to Megumi, noting his proximity to you, and her smile faltered slightly.
"Hey, Katsuki" he greeted back.
"You haven’t been around lately as usual" Katsuki remarked.
“Yeah, been busy with school stuff," he explained, his free hand casually brushing his neck.
"You haven’t replied to my texts either" you felt like an intruder in a conversation you shouldn’t be in.
“Sorry, it has been crazy lately,” he apologizes. Another employee calls for your names, and you swiftly grabbed your drinks, offering him his coffee.
"I'll wait outside if you need a moment," you informed him.
"No, it’s fine," he says to you, moving his hand to find yours. "Sorry, Katsuki, I swear I’ll text you back tonight. Take care," he says, guiding you through the crowd.
Outside the café, silence lingered for a moment. "A bit overwhelming with the crowd for you, huh? Feeling overstimulated?" he teases, smiling, to which you nodded. "Let’s go, I know a spot you'll love." He took your hand again, and a surge of electricity seemed to buzz between your palms. If he felt it, he didn’t mention it.
It had been week’s full of mixed emotions; you had countless questions swirling in your mind, but for now, you chose to give in the comforting and welcoming presence of Megumi Fushiguro.
#Suck it and see series#moonswrites#megumi x reader#megumi fushiguro x reader#reader x jjk#jjk drabbles#jjk fanfic#jjk imagines#jujutsu kaisen x reader#fushiguro megumi x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#megumi fushiguro imagine#megumi fushiguro#megumi x you#fushiguro megumi#jujutsu megumi#megumi fluff#fushiguro
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