#but it has gotten way more notes than i thought it would and also has led to a couple zionists bothering me so i just wanted to add this
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𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐦𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐝 𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲
✰ characters ✰ 𝐘. 𝐄𝐫𝐞𝐧
✰ summary ✰ don’t say things you don’t mean, unless you do mean them. in that case eren can fulfil all your requests (f!reader)
✰ tags/warnings ✰ nsfw, ex!eren, alcohol use, degradation, spanking, daddy kink, cum eating, squirting. praise kink, overstimulation, pussy licking
✰ kyun’s note ✰ it’s been long overdue, two long fics in a row is tough gang dont do this at home. also sorry for any spelling mistakes i am sleep derived
it was definitely a good idea to go out with the girls
it was probably a bad idea to not send eren home with all the drinks you had earlier clouding your judgment
it was absolutely going to hurt in the morning but that is the last thing that's on your mind right now it will be a problem for later
you and eren had gotten together in high school and stayed together for the duration of high school. the both of you being fairly well known though he was more popular than you were.
the both of you had different passions and wanted to peruse different careers. him wanting to play basketball professionally and you didn’t really want to have a boring 9-5 either so you chose to be an influencer.
you both supported each other and both of you became very successful in what you did. eren signing with a good team and you having nearly up to a million followers. you made sure to go to every one of his games and he would be sure to mention you on his socials and even point to you at games.
the two of you even had a child together who both of your fans adored. you had him early in both of your careers and had enough money to support him growing up, the two of you thought that you would be able to live the rest of your lives as a family.
that was until about 4 years later when eren’s schedule became to hectic and he spent more time practicing and being out of the country for games to even be home with you, there was a gradual build up to that which you thought you could get through but in the end you realised it was too much for you and he accepted that.
in the end the both of you decided to spilt apart as is was just too much on you. both of your fan bases were sad to see their favourite couple break apart but you assured them that it was mutual and the two of you ended on good terms, deep down you still loved him but you let him go knowing it was for the better.
eren always made sure to send money to support both him and you even though you told him that he didnt need to send you money as well. he also did regular calls to check in to see how the both of you were doing, and when he was back in the country he made sure to see you if he could spending time with his son and even you.
you know he loved his son from the way he would always get souvenirs from countries when he was out and even got some jerseys from his sons favourite players even if he did pout complaining because he wasn’t his favourite.
this went on for about a year and it worked really well for the three of you, your sons fifth birthday passed with eren doing his all to be there buying him an expensive gift that your son absolutely loved. eren had lately had been spending more time over due to the season, there not being a lot of games and you decided you wanted to go out since it had been a while.
eren has said he would take care of your son while you went out with your friends saying that you deserved the time to have fun. he took your son over to his house so that you could get ready in peace telling you he would keep him for the weekend so you could relax.
once the both of them had left the house you called both sasha and mikasa telling them the plans and they decided to come over to help you get ready. they arrived soon with their things and the three of you started to get ready.
you had your hair and make up done all that was left was your outfit. you had no idea what to wear as it had been a long time since you had gotten dressed up like this, the girls made their way to you closet and started picking through your stuff looking for something for you to wear.
being pregnant had made big changes to you body which left you feeling less than confident after your giving birth but as the years went by some changes left and some stayed. for one your tits and ass filled out as well as you hips getting wider giving you a near hourglass figure.
you were pretty self conscious about your body but everyone around you encouraged you to embrace your new body as they said it made you look sexy and you believed them, looking at yourself differently you loved your new self.
the girls had picked out a dress you don’t even remember buying. a long-sleeve red dress that stopped just under you ass with red cross slits trailing down the side exposing some skin. you paired it with a classic set of black heels and a red bag to match.
the other two were also ready when you had finished getting dressed so you made sure you had everything you needed and sasha drove you to the club blasting music all the way there.
you got into the flub with no problem all of you being over the required age and the three of you went to get drinks to start your night off, weaving your way through the bustling crowd and over to the bar where you all order your first round of drinks keeping you tab open just in case you want to get more.
you and mikasa take a few more shots sasha only having a few being your designated driver for the night not that she really needed any as she would be asked to have just as much fun either way. after you finished your drinks the three of you moved over into the dancing crowd losing yourselves to the music.
you swung your body to the beat of the music sasha in front and mikasa behind you, your as shaking with every sway of your hips. you could tell that many men wanted to join you but you could see both of the girls pushing the away as they know about your lingering feelings for eren.
the song changes and you recognise it as ‘mad at me by sexxy red’ realising that you know the lyrics and you start singing it along with the others in the room, knowing it lyric for lyric shaking your ass to the beat people around you dancing to the music.
when the next line come on you shout it out like there's no tomorrow “fuck me like you mad at me baby, I need a freak to drive me crazy!” and you sing the rest of the song with the same passion until it finishes and you’re out of breath.
the next song plays and you feel all the energy you had from before now depleted and decide to go pay for your last drink of the night leaving sasha and mikasa on the dance floor.
it didn’t take long for you to reach the bar and pay but on your way back to the girls some one stopped you trying to pull you for a dance. but you quickly pushed them away not in the mood walking to your friends even faster.
you get to the girls in record speed in no time though all the remaining energy you had no completed, the girls notice this and decide it’s time for you all to go home.
you drip mikasa home first knowing she has to go to bed for work in the morning. and then sahsa takes you back to your house with you dozing off on the way back. you didn’t even realise that you had faleen asleep until you felt sasha gently shake you awake.
thanking her for the ride home you wish her a safe journey back walking up to your front door, stumbling on the short walk due to the alcohol still flowing in your system. checking the time to see that it was almost past midnight and you know that your son should have gone to bed ages ago feeling bad that you couldn’t tell him goodnight.
when you walk in it takes a while for your eyes to adjust to the light which you were sure you turned off when you left, squinting only to see a figure sitting on the couch. you take off your heels setting them to the side and look up to see the figure still there.
once your eyes get accustomed to the light you realise that’s it’s eren sitting there who has been sitting there staring up at you since you walked in, and you think maybe you’re just hallucinating from the alcohol in your system but upon further inspection you realise that he’s actually there.
“eren? what are you doing here? where’s my baby?”
for a second he doesn’t say anything and just eyes you up but then he speaks up.
“c’mere here baby”
the space between you brows crease at the pet name but you move towards him nonetheless, coming to stand up in from of him looking down at him.
“I dropped him off at my mums place, don’t worry about him for now”
he gently pulls you down to straddle you making your dress ride up a little bit, leaving the two of you face to face. you don’t instantly question his actions but your face conveys your confusion, but instead of saying anything he just sits there rubbing slowly up and down your thighs spread over him.
“what’s going on, is something wrong?”
but instead of answering your question he laughs and pulls out his phone swiping though as if looking for something.
“how about you tell me what this is about first”
you’re confused at first but then once the video starts playing your eyes widen in shock. it’s a video of you in the club singing to “mad at me” shouting the lyrics to the song.
“wanna explain this to me”
he’s still smiling as he says it and you know there's no way to get out of this. there's no possible excuse he would believe after seeing that, which brings up the question of where he got it from.
“who took this video and how do you have it”
he turns off his phone slipping it back into his joggers the action causing you to shift in too of him, your hands coming to rest on his shoulders as to not fall off him.
“it was posted online and someone sent it to me, and don't try change the subject. what’s this about you wanting to fuck. if you wanted some dick all you had to do was say so princess. you know i never say no to you baby”
in truth it had been a while since you were active, though it was mainly because of your lack of time due to taking care of you son as well as working.
part of it had to do with the fact that no dock would be able to compare to eren's. the way he would fuck you was to good for you to ever try it with anyone else.
you had kind of missed this intimate part of your relationship, you knew eren wasn’t the type of guy to sleep around and you are sure if he did you would have found out by now and you didn’t want to seem to desperate by asking him about his life without you as you respected his privacy as he did yours.
“why you silent for pretty, aint got nothing to say or did you really mean what you said. what was it again, you wanted me to fuck you like I was mad at you cause I can do that baby if it’s what you want, do you want that?”
as you contemplate your answer you notice his hands don’t stop but smile drops a serious look falls over his face. he probably knows that your drunk and no os giving you a way out of this.
knowing him if you said no he would step back and act as if it didn’t happen. the thing is that you do want this to happen, maybe it’s the alcohol or the fact that you’re just really pent up and horny but you don’t see a reason to decline his offer.
you nod your head to agree but he doesn’t seem satisfied with that hands stopping to grip at your thighs squeezing them lightly.
“no princess, I need words. you say yes we continue. say no and I’ll take you to bed and go back home, answer me properly”
knowing this is your last chance to back out you appreciate his efforts in order to confirm your consent and it just gives you even more reason to say yes, knowing that he’s being respectful even though he couldn’t have done what he wanted knowing you have no way of defending yourself in this state.
“yes eren, I want this. I want you. fuck me please, i need you“
you hardly have time to register what’s happening before he’s lifting you up and making his way to your old shared bedroom. you wrap you legs around his firm torso and cling onto him tighter, even though you know that there no way he will drop you.
“only since you asked me so nicely, I’ll give you what you need don’t worry baby”
the two of you reach the bed room in record speed and eren gently sets you down on the edge of the bed kneeling down in front of you both of his hands still on the side of your thighs looking up at you with a mischievous grin.
his mouth latches onto you barely clothed sex sucking on your clit in a way that has you gasping out in ecstasy. it’s no lie to say that eren knows every inch of your body inside and out. he knows all the things that make you squirm and scream. where to touch and lick as well as h to e spots indie you that make your arch into his touch.
he moves on from sucking on your clit like a mad man thirsting for water and moves down to you dripping whole, sinking his tongue into your tight heat that hadn’t had any attention for a while. not that there weren’t a few visits from your bullet vibrator it just couldn’t make you cum the way you did when eren would fuck you.
“fuck, she really missed me didn’t she ma?”
the way he’s talking to your pussy has you rolling your eyes, but they then roll for a different reason as he adds one finger teasing his way inside of you alongside his hot tongue. “oh fuck, ‘ren don’t stop please” your hand reaches for his head gripping his hair causing it to fall loose as you pull his face further into your cunt.
both his tongue and fingers pistoling into you at a harsh pace so he not surprised when you end up cumming into his mouth as he starts to suck on your clit. he doesn’t stop scissoring his fingers inside you until you stop cumming and your moans die out, though your legs still tremble slightly due to the force of your orgasm.
“we aint done yet princess, you said you wanted to be fucked right and that’s what you’ll get. flip over”
you may be a bit drunk but that doesn’t stop you from turning over at the speed of light making you a bit lightheaded but you do regret it as you miss when eren pulls of his top and steps out his trousers and boxers, kneeling back behind you slapping his cock against your ass cheeks.
“you ready for me baby?”
he watches as you nod your head eagerly and lines his cock up with your pussy sliding in with predicted ease, filling out all the way to the hilt. both of you let out moans of pleasure “fuck- I missed you” you’re not sure if he’s talking to you or your pussy but you’re to full and stretched out to care. it would be an understatement to say that you also missed the fill of his cock. it was more like the longer you were apart the more you craved to feel him.
he was feeling sympathetic knowing that it had been a while since you had fuck him, or anyone for that matter, but when you start to rock back into him letting out small mewls of pleasure he decides not to hold back. “such a desperate whore, you cant wait to fuck yourself on my cock huh?” his words are accompanied by a hard slap to your ass causing your movements to stagger with a loud moan of “f-fuck, you’re taking too long”
he lets you move as you please for a few more moments before growing impatient and gripping your waist slamming his hips into yours. “d-daddy- fuckk!” you cant see it but you can hear the smirk as he says “you like it when daddy fucks you like this don’t you?” as he sends another harsh thrust you way, rocking the bed with the force of his thrust.
he continues with his timely thrust with the occasional slap to your ass, oscillating between that or squeezing it in both hands and playing with the fat. he can feel the way you clam down on him when he does that, knowing your body inside and out plays well in is favour, not so much in yours.
he spares no energy with is thrusts as he knows you like it when he's rough with you, fucking you into the soft sheets wit vigour, deep strokes hitting your cervix every time, the tip brushing against your sweet spot on every quick roll of his hips.
he's not surprised when he begins to hear your familiar slurred pleas of " daddy please. 's too much. slow down" to which he does the opposite and uses one and to steady your waist and the other one to hold your neck keeping your back arced "remember, you asked for this princess," your unable to move, sheets bunched up in your hands, hips held high by him, face pressed into the bed.
"made it loud and clear waat you wanted and now im giving it to you"
the slick sounds of sex circulate the room, your nonsensical moans bouncing off the walls in the room along with his skin slapping against yours as he hammers is cock into your dripping pussy. "since you asked for it m sure you can take it like a good girl cant you? noting you havent done before"
you can feel is cock start to pulse inside you and you know that he's close , and you're on the verge of release, with the way eren's pounding into you you doubt you'll be able to last much longer as well as the fact that its been ages since your last fuck, which was eren.
"next time you want something, just fucking ask"
the last three words of his sentence are each punctuated with a harsh trust, sending you over the edge as you begin to squirt all over is cock and onto the sheets below you. he can feel the way your pussy spasms around is cock as he fucks you through your orgasm, slowing down to ease you through it.
"that's it cum on daddy's cock, its all fucking yours baby, nobody can have me but you"
its only a couple more languid trusts until he's spilling is hot seed inside you with a groan of your name on his lips, hips stuttering as his grip tightens enough in a way you're sure will leave marks in the morning, body doubling over your trembling frame while he locks his hips with yours, emptying is tick load deep into your pussy.
only wen he's sure that there's no more does e finally pull out of your near limp body and gently rolls you over onto your back. peppering kisses down your torso till he settles between your legs were he begins to suck the cum out of you, causing your legs to clam around is head.
"nononono- fuck. i cant, s too much no more."
he's relentless not stopping even as your and tug at his air, pushing is tongue deep into your pussy and licking your mixed juices out of you. "just one more baby, i know you can give it to me" he's not wrong as only a second after he presses his thumb to your clit, you're cumming for the third time that evening shaking in is hold.
after tat e makes sure to clean you out as best as he can, dressing you into comfortable clothes. after cleaning himself he carries you to the guest bedroom and tucks you in deciding to leave until you reach out to him pulling him back.
he ends up wit is arms wrapped around you and your head tucked underneath is, drifting into a deep sleep. you're sure that in the morning the two of you will have a lot of things to talk about.
𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 - 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐍
#✰𝐊𝐘𝐔𝐍 𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐒✰#eren x black reader#eren smut#eren aot#eren x reader#eren yeager#eren jaeger x reader#aot smut#aot#black y/n#black reader#black women#eren yaeger smut#eren jaeger smut#eren jaeger#eren x you#eren x black fem!reader#aot x black y/n#aot x reader#aot x black reader#aot x y/n#aot x you#aot x female reader
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KISSING LESSONS.
featuring: hazel callahan x fem!cheerleader!reader
synopsis: Hazel’s worst decision was to join her friend’s fight club, until she met you. or, really got to know you, she knew you, you just didn’t know her. she never thought a cheerleader, much less one of the prettiest girls in the school, would ever pay attention to her. until you did.
content warnings: harsh language; mentions of violence; internalized homophobia; light smut; kissing (wlw); so much loser lesbianism; some homophobic slang (faggot, munch)
notes: mentions of violence (duh, it’s lesbian fight club); mentions of reader being bisexual (more toward women tho); homophobic slang (faggot, munch, etc) ; there is no real smut in this as i do not write explicit content containing minors.
word count: 3.13k
chloe talks: watched bottoms and then hyperfixated on Hazel for two weeks before I decided to write this. God, I need her so bad. Chloe has a type doesn’t she? (soft mascs make me hhnngg). hazels so fucking cute I need her to kiss me ok bye. <3 (also, I hate the way this turned out, I’m so sorry it’s terrible)
now playing: kissing lessons ; lucy dacus
Fight Club — a popular 1990’s film, that’s all those two words had ever meant to you. You’d never even seen the film, you just knew it was fucking gay, despite it not actually being about the hot topic of homosexuality amongst young men (or women, in your case). But, I digress.
It had been your friends, Isabel and Brittany, who managed to get your ass to attend your school’s resident Fight Club. A women’s Fight Club. How fucking gay. Oh well, it would teach you how to defend yourself properly. Which, in this day and age — or any day and age of we’re honest — is horribly necessary.
It shouldn’t be, but knowing how to beat the shit out of a grown man is something you should know how to do. Self defense isn’t a topic to be taken lightly, and it seemed PJ and Josie knew this.
PJ and Josie — or faggot #1 and faggot #2 as the school knew more endearingly — where the school’s resident ‘ugly and untalented gays’, as Jeff and his little crew liked to say. Really, you suspected they were all just pissed because the girls knew their way around a pussy better than any of them did. They wouldn’t know the clit if it slapped them in the face.
It had been about two weeks into the girls’ club that Isabel and Britany attended for the first time. They showed up to cheer practice the following day with busted lips and bruised faces. At first, you hadn’t known what happened. Maybe Jeff’s dramatics had finally gotten the better of him. But no, they had willingly gotten beaten up for the sake of learning how to better throw a punch.
Finally, after hours upon hours of begging and pleading, Britany and Isabel got you to attend a meeting. You had walked in, nerves wrecking your body as you trailed unsurely behind the two girls you considered your best friends. You trusted them, they wouldn’t let something bad happen.
You had planned to spend your first meeting simply observing, but PJ tried so hard to convince you to join in. She almost even pushed you into the fucking ring. When you finally conceded, you were face to face with Hazel Callahan.
You knew of her, but you didn’t know her. You’d passed her a few times in the hall, you had a science class with her. Jeff said she was another one of those ‘loud mouth munches’ — to which you nearly punched him square in the nose had he not been Isabel’s boyfriend and a complete moron.
Hazel seemed nice, she’d smiled in your direction when you walked into the gym. It was a nice gesture, no matter the awkward air it held. You felt sort of bad for putting her in the situation she was in, even though it was PJ’s fault that she now had to fight you.
You stood awkwardly, fists raised in a defensive position, eyes on Hazel as she stood in front of you. She smiled again, still awkward as it had been when you walked in. You were set on not getting the shit beat out of you.
As soon as PJ’s whistle sounded, you barely gave Hazel a chance to move. She’d shifted on her feet, sending a spark of fear through you, causing you to send a punch straight to her face. You’d gasped, watching her face scrunch up as her own hands flew up to cup her nose.
“Oh my God, I’m so fucking sorry.” You cried, stepping forward, ignoring the claps and cheers falling obnoxiously from PJ’s lips.
Hazel let out a choked laugh, brows raised as she held her nose. “No uh, nice hit. Fuck, that was a good one.” She blinked rapidly, momentarily lowering her hands.
You let out a small squeak as you saw that her nose was indeed bleeding. “Shit, your nose.” You stepped forward again, trying to find something to stop the bleeding. But of course, there wasn’t anything you had on you.
“Alright, Hazel’s fine. Let’s move on.” PJ droned, giving her whistle another sharp blow — she really abused her whistle privileges, you thought as you ushered Hazel toward the bleachers.
Hazel gave a thumbs up — her hand covered in blood that dripped from her nose — as she walked toward the bleachers. No one seemed to notice other than you as you walked with her. You felt so bad, so terrible because now this girl was bleeding because of you.
“I’m sorry,” you weakly apologized again, sitting in front of her on the bleachers, looking frantically around for something to give her to stop the bleeding.
“It’s okay, I’m okay.” Hazel shook her head, trying to convince you she was fine. Even though you both knew she wasn’t.
“Uh fuck, there isn’t anything — don’t do that.” You’d cut yourself off quick, voice deadpanned.
Hazel paused, her head half leaning backward as she looked over in your direction. Her ringed fingers pinched the bridge of her nose — it seemed she’d had the idea to lean her head back to stop the bleeding.
“Lean your head forward, not backward. If you go backwards, the blood could go into your lungs. Go forward and let it drip out.” You instructed, pulling her hand down gently by her wrist, moving to take off your cardigan so she could hold it below her face to catch the blood as it dripped.
“How do you know that?” Hazel questioned, brows pulled in a frown as she leaned her face forward so the blood could freely drip from her nose onto the bundle of fabric in her hands.
“I had to get a certificate to be able to babysit.” You shrugged, moving the strands of hair from her face without thinking about it. When you’d realized what you’d done, you froze, dropping your hand in embarrassment, muttering a sad ‘sorry’ again.
Hazel shook her head, not responding verbally to your millionth apology. Your cheeks warmed, suddenly so embarrassed for an entirely different reason. Not just for punching Hazel square in the nose, but you’d managed to embarrass yourself by noticing just how pretty she was.
Hazel sat on the bottom row of the bleachers in the gym, watching the rest of the group fight each other in turns, different girls winning. Some had busted lips, others a myriad of bruises spattered across their faces.
You took the time to notice just how pretty Hazel was — a sharp jawline that would make Jeff jealous, brunette hair that mussed in just the right way and looked so goddamn soft, her nose that was long and straight save for the small bump in the bridge that made your throat constrict. God, she really was a sight. How hadn’t you noticed sooner?
Maybe it was the fact that Hazel wasn’t in your social circle. You were a cheerleader, friends with Isabel and Britany, the focus of stares. Hazel was a loser — in the kindest and most endearing way — someone who wasn’t popular. Someone who had hardly any friends. And despite the fact that today was maybe the third time in your entire life you’d ever spoken to her, you wanted to be one of her friends.
A quick, sharp quip of PJ’s whistle brought you back to the present, her loud voice announcing the day’s session was over. You blinked, looking away from Hazel. Who somehow didn’t seem to notice you’d just spent the past five or so minutes just studying her face.
She turned to you, eyes apologetic as she held out your crumpled cardigan in her hands. “It’s really bloody, sorry.”
“No, it’s okay. You can keep it,” you shook your head, holding out your hand. It was only after the words came out of your mouth that realized how stupid that sounded. “I mean, it’s just, you don’t have to give it back. I don’t like it that much anyways. And it’ll probably stain. That sounds bad, I’m sorry.”
Hazel smiled a little at your words that seemed to stumble out of your mouth. You regretted every single one of them. You moved to take the cardigan anyway, acting as if you hadn’t told her to just keep it. But she pulled it back.
“I’ll wash it.” She said simply, standing. There were specks and smears of dried blood on and below her nose. You felt another pang of guilt then, seeing that your punch would definitely cause a bruise across her nose.
“Oh, you don’t have to do that.” You shook your head, standing as well. Isabel and Britany stood a few feet away, clearly waiting for you to come over. You didn’t want to though, for some reason.
“It’s fine. I’ll see you at the next meeting right?” Hazel asked, not relenting and continuing to hold the cardigan in her hands as she started to back away.
“Uh, yeah, I guess so.” You shrugged, somewhat embarrassed. You didn’t really want to come back. Not since you’d punched Hazel and made her bleed on your first meeting. But, maybe this would be a good incentive to come back. To see her.
“Cool,” Hazel grinned, nodding in your direction before she walked toward where PJ and Josie stood. You remained sentient for a moment, hands folded in front of your lap as you watched Hazel.
“Jesus, you hit hard.” Isabel’s voice rang in your ears as she and Britany approached, the latter’s eyes wide as she looked at your hand.
“Might want to wash your hands,” the girl motioned to your dominant hand — the knuckles were spotted in blood from where you’d punched Hazel and blood had immediately started to pour from her nose.
Your eyes latched onto the specks of blood on your knuckles, brows creased as you stared. Bright, rusty red adorned the skin of your knuckles, bits of Hazel Callahan’s DNA there. It was strange, but it made you smile.
The attendance of the fight club had steadily grown — girls coming to the gym after school to brush up on their combat skills. All in preparation for the upcoming football game against Huntington. The fear ever since one girl had gotten attacked by one of the boys and word had gotten around about it.
So, attendance had spiked, the ‘female solidarity’ — as PJ liked to call it — had risen in the school, even the girls were kinder and nicer to one another. And your mind was muddled with constant pictures and thoughts of Hazel Callahan.
It was confusing — you’d never felt such a strong connection to someone you hardly knew. Hazel was as much a mystery to you as the rest of the ‘ugly, untalented gays’. Meaning she was a huge fucking mystery. Sure, you were vaguely aware that her parents had divorced, and that the girl mostly kept in the background in school. But other than that, Hazel was purely mysterious to you. And you found yourself wanting to know more.
To remedy thhs, you continued to attend fight club, naturally. Yes, you shared a class or two with the girl, but nowhere else did you have the chance to actually interact with her. To converse with her, hear her voice, see her smile. God, what a loser you were.
It wasn’t until two weeks later that you’d come to realize how disgustingly and embarrassingly obvious your infatuation with Hazel was. And what made it worse — it was PJ who brought it to your attention.
“Yo!” PJ’s obnoxious voice rang through the gym as you stood in the circle with the rest of the girls, watching Silvia and Brittany spar, your name on the girl’s lips as she spoke. “Quick eye-fucking Hazel and pay attention! Huntington is like, two weeks away.”
Your cheeks flamed a bright red as you sunk into yourself, shoulders curling in. God, you wanted a chance at PJ in that ring to strangle the fuck out of her for that. Your eyes quickly cut over to where Hazel stood — her own cheeks dusted with light pink as she avoided your gaze.
Great, now she probably wouldn’t talk to you at all. Fuck PJ and her obnoxious, loud mouth. Your embarrassment was not short lived as the fight club went on. You couldn’t look in Hazel’s direction at all as you waited out the meeting until its end so you could retreat with your tail between your legs and never show your face in this gym again.
It was as you shouldered your backpack, heart still racing, stomach still uneasy with embarrassment that you heard someone clear their throat behind you. You turned, eyes going wide as you were face to face with Hazel. Your eyes trailed down to a bundle of fabric in her hands.
“Sorry it took so long, but uh, I got the blood out.” She held out what turned out to be your cardigan. The cardigan that you’d leant her two weeks ago when you’d punched her too hard.
“Um, you didn’t have to do that.” You said, offering a sheepish smile as she held out the cardigan. You gingerly took it, eyes locked on Hazel’s face. As you grabbed it, you swore you could feel a spark when your fingers brushed against hers. A fucking spark — cliche but true.
It was silent between you two for a moment before Hazel shook her head, jutting her thumb over her shoulder. “Sorry about PJ. Things kind of come out of her mouth without her brain processing first.”
Yikes, Hazel meant the ‘eye-fucking’ comment. You offered a small, horribly obvious chuckle. “Yeah, I kinda noticed.”
There was another long stretch of silence between you and Hazel, your lips pulled to the side as you held the folded — she’d fucking folded it, Jesus she was adorable — cardigan in your hands. It was strange, but not too uncomfortable. Like that stupid thing from Pulp Fiction, the right person is someone that silence isn’t awkward with.
“I wasn’t eye-fucking you.” You blurted. Great, you made it awkward again. A small groan fell from your lips, head dropping as you closed your eyes with a frown. You shook your head. “Sorry, I dunno what’s wrong with me today.”
“PJ’s just jealous.” Hazel offered with a small laugh. How could one solidarity laugh sound so beautiful?
“Of what?” You asked gingerly, looking up to meet her eyes. For some reason, you were weary of her answer.
“That you aren’t giving her attention. Besides, I don’t think she’d know what to do with your attention anyway, you’re so pretty.” She said it not as an insult to PJ — or at least it didn’t sound like it — but more as an obvious fact. And you were stunned because Hazel had just called you pretty.
You were at a loss. A true loss. How the hell were you supposed to respond to that? So, like an idiot, you just stared at her blankly, eyes confused and wide.
Her own eyes went wide, brows furrowed as a worried look crossed her features. “Shit, was that too much? Too much. Fuck.” Her voice lowered as she cursed, brows knit together.
“No! Not too much, I just… I just didn’t think you thought I was pretty too.” You shrugged, quick to correct her. Quick to reassure that you were flattered and not weirded out.
“I mean yeah, of course I do.” Hazel nodded, her voice soft, words intentional like her statement was an obvious fact.
A smile spread across your face, cheeks warm again. You weren’t sure why, but you suddenly felt so much about Hazel. You’d never had a crush on a girl before. It was new and strange, but you definitely thought this was a crush.
“Thanks.” You whispered, eyes darting down to the cardigan in your hands for a moment before going back to looking up at Hazel. “For the compliment, and bringing back my cardigan. You didn’t have to wash it.”
“It’s fine, I wanted to. It’s a nice cardigan.” Hazel shrugged. It seemed she was at a loss for what to say around you too.
The gym was near empty by now — Josie and PJ chattering away in the far corner, and Isabel and Brittany waiting for you (but not paying attention to anyone but themselves) by the gym doors a few feet away.
So, due to the empty state of the gym and the disgustingly thick tension between you and Hazel, you stepped forward, pressing a quick and gentle kiss to her cheek.
This took the girl by surprise. Her eyes went wide as your lips pressed to her soft cheek. You leaned back, her brows creased as she watched you.
“Thanks,” you said again, with a shrug. Letting her know that was your way of thanking her. Small, but meaningful to you.
It was a long moment that you stood there, Hazel staring at you with wide eyes. For a couple of long seconds, you thought you’d fucked up. Misread the situation, mistook the tension for something else. But, you were proven wrong as she leaned forward, closing the distance between you by pressing her mouth to yours.
“You’re welcome.” She murmured as she leaned back, your eyes wide now from processing that Hazel had just kissed. That you’d just had your first girl-kiss. Fucking scary, but nice. You liked it. Liked her.
“I’ve never done that.” You whispered, blinking rapidly to ground yourself. “With, with a girl, I mean.” You corrected yourself almost instantly.
You’d kissed a guy or two before. Sadly, your first ever kiss was Tim at the ninth grade freshman dance. He was a bad kisser and you hated it. But, you liked how Hazel kissed. Despite it being a quick peck, it was full of intention and it was gentle too.
Hazel shrugged, a small half smile forming on her lips. “Maybe I can give you lessons.”
You grinned, laughing a little as you nodded, backing away toward the gym doors, needing to escape before you said anything else stupid. “Yeah, that’d be nice. I’ll send you my address.”
“Okay,” Hazel nodded, grinning widely to herself as you mentioned her coming over.
You almost skipped as you walked out of the gym, trailing behind Isabel and Brittany as the girls chittered away, the prospect that Hazel would be giving you fucking kissing lessons. You held the bundle of fabric close to your chest as you walked to your car. And it was then you noticed it smelled like Hazel. The detergent, obviously. But, there was something else that was just Hazel. And you never wanted it to go away. Maybe, you could wear it while she gave you kissing lessons that night.
2023 ©️ellieslaces please do not repost, rewrite, translate, or submit my work to AI or any other platform. please support your creators by reblogging, liking, and following!
how you can support Palestine! 🇵🇸
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This may be a strange question, but as someone who has never gotten the hang of using notebooks in my day to day life (unless it's once in a while to outline something specific like a project for work), what are the kinds of things you write down in them?
for journaling, that's complicated. youtube always recommends me these "journaling will improve your life!" videos and i think they're very funny because i've kept a journal for 20 years and it has made me a worse and more miserable person. so i will not be writing any "how to journal" posts any time soon.
my commonplace notebook, however, is where i keep everything. every morning i write down the date, the hours i slept, and my weight. occasionally i track my mood and mental state, because when i meet with my psychiatrist i like to have cold hard data to give her. then beneath that, i write out my to do list for the day.
it's kind of a reverse bullet journal in that you fill it up with all the random ephemera of your life and then label the important bits with a highlighter and index it later.
more specifically i keep:
the books/movies/shows/etc that are recommended to me.
notes i take at the doctor's office, or when i do my taxes, or get my oil changed. i'm a compulsive note-taker. in fact i started a commonplace notebook because it calms me to have something to write on and with even in situations where that's weird. i'd rather look weird than be anxious.
ideas for fanfic, original work, newsletters, craft thoughts, workshop models, etc.
brainstorming/planning/prewriting stories.
tracking my WIP cleanout and annual goals.
doodling!
i think sometimes we get caught up in building spaces for things to keep them organized, like that's the whole point of bujo. you create a page layout to do a specific function and then you fill it out. but that doesn't account for the stuff you haven't made a page for, stuff that would be blight in a bujo. we also think that a whole page needs to be devoted to a specific thing, or a notebook needs to be devoted to its subject. but you an also just...not do that.
it's a lot of work to setting up a bujo. work i would love to have the energy and aesthetic inclinations to do. but i don't. so i do the next best thing which is fill up every page in the most chaotic way possible.
poorly scanned example pages under the cut:
these are notes i took during my rewatch of Mockingjay in preparation of writing Wind of the New World.
notes about leveling my Genshin team, and notes about a story i was working on. and a to do list.
working through a plot knot in Skinless.
Stardew Valley farm planning. and a grocery list i think.
i don't recommend this method for everyone. i think if i were to have read this post 2 years ago my thought would be, "what the fuck is wrong with you." but it works for me and makes me happy, and as long as all the important information is safely indexed and retrievable, it doesn't matter how messy the pages get.
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hey everyone, i know this is a silly gimmick blog but i feel i need to clarify that zionists aren't welcome here. people who think the violence in gaza right now is in any way justified or proportional to october 7 and support the genocide being committed against palestinians need to get off my blog. leave.
people who use this situation as an excuse to be antisemitic also need to get the fuck out of here. it is never okay to be antisemitic and trying to use your support for palestine as a shield is pathetic. i dont want you around and i do not like you. when i find you i will block you. save us both some time and just unfollow me right now.
i just wanted to make my position clear. free palestine. 🇵🇸
#not a crab#the crab speaks#free palestine#from the river to the sea#i just wanted to make this clear after i saw a couple people followed me that i do not want following me. thanks.#also to be clear obviously this didn’t start on october 7. it’s been happening for over 70 years now#but i specifically wanted to address the claim that this is somehow a proportional response to that day#i didn’t get into the historical context in this post because it was meant to just be a quick response after i had to block some zionists#but it has gotten way more notes than i thought it would and also has led to a couple zionists bothering me so i just wanted to add this#also like dw about the zionists who show up sometimes. i just block them now. it’s not worth it to take the bait
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/ realized I forgot to put this in my bio and will add it later but
heads up that my Yuri is a combination of JP Yuri and dub Yuri, but primarily JP. there's a whole lot of nuance to Yuri that got left out of the dub (and seeing as he has waaay more content in JP due to the vast amount of crossovers/Tales crossovers/gachas he's in, it's a lot easier to keep Toriumi's take on him (and in depth understanding no less!) in mind). overall you get the same general person, but the dub left out a lot more his casual/playful side in vocal tone, preferring to go for the "edgy cool adult" concept despite, well, the JP version of him intentionally being quite opposite.
(on another note, context I use for Yuri involves nuances found in the drama CDs that are a condensed retelling of the game (before some original stuff) as well as his childhood novel which has voiced dialogue for his child and teen years. this post covers the game, but a lot of (especially internal) stuff for my muse may be heavily affected by his backstory too which is unfortunately completely absent in the actual game itself)
there's also a lot of back and forth between him and other characters that really lost their depth in the dub (ex. Yuri being much more gentle and soft with early game Karol when Karol was convinced nobody would believe him and that he was a failure, or his banter with Flynn being a lot more relaxed and significantly less annoyed with a better understanding of each other). I'll be retaining anything the dub yeeted out for whatever odd reason regarding his relationships.
(one particular grievance of mine is in the Flynn jailbreak scene, where Yuri is basically saying "you're just dying to abandon me" and Flynn starts off with "that's right" before basically saying the same thing - i.e. they both know it's not true and Flynn is going along with it because That's Them, to which Yuri responds with a solid and fully accepting "yeah" (no hesitation, no concern over it, as he prioritizes Flynn's life over his own).
another extremely strong grievance I have is the port scene - oops also with Flynn - where he's basically holding back tears asking for answers in desperation, which was extremely if not outright completely lost in the dub where he only sounds angry and not just utterly hurt. dub Yuri? I could believe he might kill Flynn if it came to that. JP Yuri? forget it, he would hold back at the last second and couldn't go through with it. that's genuinely the level of difference that was present between both audios.
that said, I love Troy Baker's performance itself - I just think he was unfortunately deeply incorrectly directed for several of his major scenes, and also unfortunately, some of those cases were involving some of his most important relationships)
if any of y'all play Vespy any time soon, I fully recommend giving it a shot with its original context at least once (if you're playing the DE version there's an option for JP audio)! even if you don't understand JP, at the very least the tone won't be lost on you! from what I've heard apparently there wasn't much communication between the directors on both sides, so a lot of Yuri got lost in the localization (and Karol's screaming is glorious in JP lbh).
tl;dr Yuri really is just a silly little guy and he's really not that cool or serious. he's a dork. he's a dummy. and he's easily embarrassed about it. get deep enough into his feelings for Flynn when they're not in a life or death situation and he'll completely cave in embarrassment.
#{ bravewolf mun }#/ honestly it's also easier this way bc Vesperia has A FUCKING TON of side content#but Yuri in particular also does and a gigantic chunk of it is /voiced/... and we don't get that side content in the west#as a side note Yuri even has a ton of small breaths/sounds he makes in JP around his dialogue that got lost in the loc too#there is a lot more going on in that silly little brain than I feel the loc let on#also he's way more pouty in JP and that's automatically a win with me for him LOL#but yeah we get so much side content that like... I probably haven't even gotten through all of it yet#I'm in the process! but I still have not cleared Everything yet (it rly is a lot!). it just kinda automatically adjusts my brain to JP Yuri#bc it's what I hear constantly when I indulge in non-game content for him#and honestly there's enough content out there for Yuri that I'd sooner trust Toriumi's thoughts on Yuri#than I would anyone else except the lead scriptwriter for Vespy#bc he's been voicing Yuri content THAT MUCH for THAT LONG#I would kill to pick Toriumi's brain about Yuri bc he's done an INSANE amount of vocal work for him#that said when I write I do hear a combination of Troy and Toriumi don't get me wrong (Troy's performance is stellar w what he was given!)#it's just that I'm including JP exclusive nuances to my muse that may come across as like#“wait that wasn't in the game was it?” but like yeah it was the loc just whoopsied a lot on Yuri /
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𝐂𝐀𝐁𝐈𝐍 𝐅𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 [18+]
familiar! ghost × witch! reader
you are a witch trapped at home by a devastating blizzard. ghost is the demon that answers your call. ( PART 1 of 2 )
DEAD DOVE. RATED R. HORROR/SMUT. 6k. – AO3
please please please read the warnings under the cut before reading. this is leagues darker than my usual work. it is a dark fic, and you know your limits better than i do.
warnings: discussed cannibalism. graphic depictions of gore. vomiting. killing/butchering animals. violent thoughts. malnutrition. alienation/isolation. manipulation. corruption. mentions of somnophilia. dark!ghost – i.e. simon does not conform to human morality. afab reader using she/her pronouns.
inclusivity note: the reader is described as smaller than simon, but he stands at 250 cm in his true form (8"2), so i assumed everyone – if not, most – would fit that category. she's also malnourished/sick at the start and so there are some references to unhealthy weight loss
Situated between a dense network of ancient oaks, a lesser demon would have mistaken the cottage for a boulder had they spawned further than ten metres away. Save for the warm orange glow illuminating its arched windows, the home married perfectly to its surroundings – disfigured and hideous, walls warped by unevenly stacked stone and a roof bowed under a thick blanket of snow. Overgrown bushes stick out from under its gnarled fence, dead branches desperately reaching, and the ivy he assumes was once adhered to its front has since been ripped out by the storm, whipping in the howling wind.
But Ghost is no lesser demon; in fact, he’s far above this whole affair. Something of his rank answering the summons of a novice who could offer no more than sheep’s liver buried in their front yard was an occurrence practically unheard of. For good reason, too. He’s dangerous in the right hands, willing to resort to lengths that even the devil wouldn’t dream of so long as he receives proper payment. Most power-hungry neophytes would slaughter, have slaughtered, to have him as their familiar. Even then, he is above their grovelling.
So, to be lured out of respite by sheep’s liver, of all things…
He supposes he has no excuse for it, not that he has to explain himself to anyone. Perhaps he’s here only to satisfy his curiosity. The call hadn’t come from the lips of someone who’d been practising – sharp and sure, roused by a brand of audacity special to cocksure practitioners – but from someone softer. More sceptical. It’s unusual that an occultist would have both knowledge and skill to summon a familiar, yet still be suspicious as to whether they even exist at all. He’s not so much offended, then, as he is morbidly interested in what reaction his appearance would incur.
Disgust. Terror. Reverence.
Warmth pools in his belly, blood oozing in fat globs to fuel the flame that compels him to head into the small home. It’s hard to make out what’s inside merely by looking through the windows; the glass has glazed over from the contesting temperatures on either side of it, painting a bleary picture of a fire silhouetting vague shapes. The doorstep creaks under his heavy foot, but nothing – from what he can see – moves in response to the disturbance. It’s late, he knows. If it weren’t for the thick clouds shrouding the sky, he would see the moon sinking towards the west horizon. Anyone with any sense in this world knows to be asleep during witching hour.
The doorknob is round. Brass. Worn by a hand that’s gotten very good at grasping it in the same manner every time. Ghost takes a moment to digest what that tells him about his new client before turning it and ducking inside. He was right to assume it’d be unlocked. While he’d have been able to find a way in otherwise, the silly little oversight manages to elicit more excitement in him than necessary. Their mistake is added to his quickly growing character evaluation. A routineer. Garden-variety mortal, too naive for their own good. Someone isolated. Someone–
Small.
Size has always been relative for something of his stature. At two and a half metres, he’s able to tower over even his own. But it truly hits him, right there, how long it’s been since he last encountered a human. He tries to tally the decades in his head, only to fail and fail again by fault of distraction. It shouldn’t hit him as hard as it does. She fulfils every bit of what he expected, after all; plain, though younger than the typical practitioner of familiar-summoning ability. Fast asleep on a threadbare couch. Drowned in clothing, skin dewy with sweat. A book abandoned, open on her chest, stuffed with spare pieces of parchment and illegible annotations. Ink-stained fingertips.
But his hand could crush her head if he was truly compelled to do so. He could scoop the bare ankles currently peeking out of her quilt and throw her over his shoulder like wild game, skinned and simple to carry back to hell. He remembers the fallow deer he’d feasted on just last week, belly soft as he sunk his teeth into it, and considers letting his appetite get the best of him with the one that’s unwittingly made herself available tonight. Crack open her ribcage to gorge on the gooey insides that no doubt taste like honey to a monster with his appetite. Bury his snout into her sweet-scented neck and get a sense for prey that can fight back, if just barely.
But the moment passes. In her slumber, she shifts to lay on her side, spooning the grimoire closer. The minor hint of life reawakens another, more primaeval urge in him, last felt aeons ago when he was a younger fiend and the world had been a much more vulnerable place.
(The urge to take, to bend and break to fit his fancy. Chewing on cartilage until it smacks like gum between his maw, flossing the foul curl of his canines. To sink his claws into tender calves and carve an irreversible Ghost-shaped hole in her home, a haunting so stubborn she’ll turn to a fake God to try and expel him.)
And it’s violent. A rather restive longing. But placed next to the patience he’s learnt in the centuries since, he makes his choice. A natural conclusion to a creature who’s always gotten what he’s wanted.
Yes, he’ll stay. Be here when she wakes and revel when those eyes widen at the sight of him, darkening the corner of her room. He’ll stay; trail around and observe as she tries to make sense of her routine in light of the beast looming over her shoulder. He’ll stay, maybe ravage what's between her legs, devastate her sense of preservation and instead make her beg for the damage. Fall short on his duties as a familiar. Stay until he gets bored, when he’s had his fill of the crying and the quaint box she calls home. When playing with his food any more will lay the morsel to waste. Only then will he finally tear into the temptingly delicious meal in front of him.
For now, though, his neck aches from having to stoop under such a low roof. He resorts to a bygone human form instead, one he consumed ages ago – bones snapping, flesh dimpling, folding, morphing into a much smaller thing, a man – and waits.
Morning finds you doubling over the side of your couch to retch up what little food you had scavenged the previous evening.
The loss is sore. Your stomach protests as the stale bread and water emulsion punches up your throat, emptying out onto the hardwood floor. Acrid. Bitter on the back of your tongue, sharp like the cramps that erupt in your abdomen once you lay back down. Sweat plasters baby hairs to your forehead, crawling down your back and pooling underneath your bandaged breasts. You wipe it off with trembling hands, kicking the suffocating quilt until it slouches off the armrest on which your feet lay.
Last night’s fire is little more than smouldering ash. Still, the cottage maintains a pervasive heat, the air buzzing with an unnamed vigour. It’s unlikely that the blizzard has ceased long enough for the snow blanketing your home to melt – and given the walls’ remarkable ability to release warmth faster than they absorb it, the current temperature is enough to confound you.
Likely a fever, you think, pressing knuckles to your temple. The timing is unfortunate enough, though something about your conclusion falls apart when tested against the churning of your gut. You’re clearly unwell, that much is apparent by the bile spoiling your floor, but you’d be a fool to miss the supernatural root of it. Like a perpetual tremor, never waning despite the way your muscles flare. A delirium that unfurls from your nape to slowly embrace your ears. You blink, trying to make sense of the queasiness that continues to wrack you.
You’d run out of herbs two days after the blizzard snowed you in, the remaining potions lining your pantry ones best left untouched. It couldn’t have been anything you took, then. Nor was it a spell; the last one you’d cast was an ignition charm you’ve performed so often you know its effects like the planes of your cheeks. You cycle through yesterday's happenings with febrile imprecision, sipping long gulps of oxygen to tame the queasiness lapping up your chest. Like bailing water out of a quickly sinking raft. Cupping it in your palms and throwing what you can overboard. You get nowhere, and your nausea only worsens.
You’d gone to sleep with your grimoire in hand. Had you cast something while in a hypnagogic state? Possible, though rather uncharacteristic. Your fingers dig into the cushion gutters, poking for any sign of the thick book. As a migraine begins to tear at your skull, your search borders on unhinged. Pillows fly across the room, cushions following suit. The quilt billows as you air it several times over, providing some fleeting – yet much needed – airflow.
You’re so focused on finding it that you almost miss the fact that the charred voice behind you is not your panic made material. Not the voice inside your head.
“Under the couch.”
This one is hoarse. Deep. It almost instantaneously shatters the heavy atmosphere cloaked over your shoulders, breaking your pyrexia with a sharp shiver down your spine. Pure ozone injected into the bubble you’ve made for yourself, the one you thought was so secure. Where the knife you taped to the underside of your table has remained untouched in the years since you moved in, unneeded. Hunched the way you are now, you can see it. Glinting as a mocking smile does; all teeth. Too far for you to retrieve without alerting your intruder. Too far for it to be an option. Your instincts rear.
Slowly, you crouch lower, hand skimming under the couch. Your pinkie grazes the well-loved leather of your grimoire’s cover. It manages to ground you to the situation at hand, though the reality is far more horrifying than what you could’ve conjured on your own. Distorted still, rippling with the impact of your fear. Paralysis battles adrenaline – your mind freezes with the shock of drowning, your body championing for survival. It doesn’t give you time to catch up.
Wood splinters under your heel as you twist, springing in the general direction of the voice. Heavy book in both hands. Your shoulders square, steadying as hinges to your attack. The figure is just visible; you barely make out the silhouette of its head before you aim for it.
But it grabs your wrist and flings your grimoire across the room in a fraction of the time, the spine splaying open onto an adjacent wall. Your stomach capsizes. The raft tips, flips, sends you crashing into frothing waves. Migraine blinding you for a brief, horrifying moment; one where you can’t see the thing shackling your wrist, or anticipate the hard kick it gives to your ankles. You buckle with the pain, held up by one heavy paw. A low whine syphons from your chest.
“Enough of tha’, now.”
Your vision comes into focus several seconds later. Still watery, brine spooling over your eyes, readying them for pruning, but clear enough to make out the depth of this ravine you’ve shipwrecked over. And it’s–
Uncanny. Teetering the thread between jarring and inhumane. Nothing about it – you’ve a hard time believing the moniker of ‘man’ – strikes you as superficial. Nothing skin-deep. Like a mountain seen breaking the horizon line from continents away, its rocks humming a song too closely resembling a banshee’s shriek for it to be alluring. Something concealed within its caves; underground, bubbling, molten. An impetus for myths, undiluted by tired parents using it to scare their children into bed. Still crowned by its original savagery, conceptualised centuries ago by a peasant who made the mistake of getting too close.
But it isn’t a concept, you quiver. It’s here – fleshly, corporeal. And it's even made an attempt to look human. As if you wouldn’t feel it itching to burst out of this skin, suffocated by too small constraints. Over six feet and then some, shoulders doubling yours and fingers that stretch a bit too long, a bit too thick. No face: everything but its eyes covered in knitted headwear, framing the pair of pale pupils, shadowed by a heavy brow.
Some suicidal, hare-brained part of you wonders what would happen if you were to lift the bottom of its mask. (What you would see. How it would react.) But the compulsion is quickly stifled by another wave of gagging, empty stomach looking for anything to regurgitate. The thing masquerading as a man catches on fast, flipping you so your back tucks against its chest. You end up projecting water over the carpet, coughing until your head pounds like a ripe bruise. It’s then that you realise your condition has everything to do with its presence, souring now that you’re practically nestled against its abdomen.
“What…” You question between dry heaves. “What are– What do y-you want with me?”
“Better question ‘s, wha’ do you want?” It murmurs back, rumbling too close to your ear. Rot thickens its breath, potent enough that it draws the tears already dotting your lash line. No doubt a corpse remains stuck somewhere down its gullet, stored away for later. No doubt you’ll join it soon, gnawed on until your flesh falls off the bone. The perfect victim; all alone, the town pariah. A witch by the common man’s standards. Cast out to a dismal forest to die.
“I don- I don’t–”
“Summoned me, didn’ you? Dug a nice little hole and all. Well,” His hand shifts, clasping tighter around your struggling arms. “I’m ‘ere now. ‘Bout wha’ you expected?”
You use your retching as an excuse to play a game of catch up, squeezing the last of your tears out. Your memories bleed into one another, ink on wet parchment. Summoned. Dug a… hole, to call on this thing of supernatural proportions currently occupying your home. Why would you want that? What have you done? The past year has been marked by loneliness of a drastic degree, certainly, yet–
And then it comes flooding back to you.
(Washing the salt off of preserved sheep’s liver. Fastening it to a bouquet garni with twine. Folding the modest sacrifice under layers of earth. Pouring milk onto the upturned dirt.)
“Aren’t you supposed to be an– an animal… Or something.” You choke.
(You never thought it’d work: this magic amateurishly scribbled onto the back of your book by a hand long necrotized. The runes had been difficult to fathom on their own. And the way the spell had sounded on your clumsy tongue made you sure you’d done it wrong. It was purely a pursuit of curiosity. Something to keep you occupied, for lack of anything else to do.)
“Or something.” It answers.
A familiar. Yours, to be precise. In service to you since it took the offering you fashioned. Or, of greater import, one that can’t do anything to you lest you ask for it.
(Foolish to think you can clamp a collar on a feral beast and expect it to heel.)
The girl has a harder time adjusting than his original estimate.
Of course, there’s the illness. The affliction that plagues all mortals who come in contact with a demon for the first time. She’s violently sick for days, verging on the full first week of his arrival. Constantly bent over herself, holding a metal pail close for the inevitable purge of bile, that which her liver overproduces to compensate for a lack of food. Her under eyes blacken five shades darker. Her cheekbones grow more pronounced. Ghost watches it all with a macabre sort of interest, unable to take much satisfaction in the affair as his meal withers away before his very eyes. Wrists thinning into willow branches. Lips flaking like dead bark.
He's almost tempted to do something before she begins to recover herself. Gets more used to his unnatural presence, it seems. Gradually. Slow.
It starts when she wakes up one morning, having slept in later than he’s known her to, hiccupping but otherwise solid. After laying on the couch for an hour, she limps off with dwindling energy to fry a batch of velvet shank for breakfast. The meal is hardly enough for one, yet she plates two-thirds of it for Ghost and places the dish on the table he’s commandeered for his own. It’s a kind gesture; he doesn’t have it in him to be kind about it, though. Yet before he can criticise her efforts, she waddles off to pry a window open. Frigid winds encroach on her sheltered home at once, snow flurrying in, but she braves the cold until a crow lands on the windowsill.
“Hello.” She croons, smoothing a knuckle across its crown. “Sorry I’ve been away. Here,” Digging into her breast pocket, she pulls out a handful of chokecherries and feeds them to the bird. “make them last. Supply is low.”
The crow merely picks them off her palm, coos lost in the roaring storm that batters at the door. For the first time since his arrival, Ghost is tempted to bleed into the shadows. The affair he’s made voyeur to is delicate, an understated glimpse into a life entirely foreign to him. It aches when he can’t piece together why she would give up her food for nothing in return, or why she treats him the same way she does a feral bird. He thinks it must be ego, this snarling anger in his chest.
So when the crow flies off with a final farewell pet down its back, he hardens into a nastier version of himself. Ghost still hasn’t touched the paltry breakfast when she turns her attention back to him, a fact she meets with a gingerly raised eyebrow.
“’Fraid I won’t eat tha’, pet.”
She takes a moment to process his epithet of choice, eyes narrowing in an almost comical turnaround of her previous gentle expression.
“Wouldn’t it be the other way around?” She scoffs.
The indignation alone should be enough to incense him further, never mind the apathy she adopts when she shucks the contents of his plate onto her own and marches back to the couch. It doesn’t. If anything, he calms a little at her willingness to take away what she so graciously offered. The cat does have claws, then. Albeit petty, piddling little claws – like the runt of a litter who’s learnt to bite back at anything that gets too close – but a fire, nonetheless. He appreciates that, perhaps more than he assumed he would.
Her sickness, he finds, is not the only issue.
Ghost lacks context for her situation – why she lives alone when the closest towns are just bordering the forest, or why no one ever seeks her out – but it does not escape him that the girl isn’t properly socialised.
In the centuries since they first emerged, he’s absorbed a keen sense for mortal behaviour. Credit to their alarming predictability, pattern recognition has halved the effort needed for his hunts. Not that he pretends to be at one with their psychology, but it’s easy to pin just where exactly she deviates from the norm when his strategy for ravaging her depends on it. More than once, he finds himself inexplicably engrossed in her habits.
Given her home is limited to the living room, kitchen, and washroom, she struggles to find a space where she can escape his oppressive presence. Ghost does not make it easy for her, either. He could choose to blend into the darker corners of her cottage, embodying the moniker he’d been given all those years ago and disappear almost completely – or enough to give her a mental break. But the mood strikes him more often than not, and he’ll loom over her like a spectral shadow, looking to provoke the grave mood swings that seize her like Satan does his miscreants. By far the most entertaining outcome had been when overstimulation trounced her usual level of tolerance and she pulled a knife on him, zeroed in on his jugular. He’d managed to scruff her by the nape until she wore herself out – which isn’t to say she didn’t put up quite a fuss.
Since then, she has yet to lash out to such an extreme, instead locking herself in the washroom when her temper skyrockets. Ghost is almost disappointed.
That’s his pet at her worst. At her best, she opts for quiet coexistence, either whispering to the crow who visits daily and appears to be her only friend, or cradling that ugly book in both hands. The back of the couch where she lounges most often obscures his view of her, but he’ll get the occasional vision when she pokes her eyes above the top to check on him. He maintains eye-contact – the heavy, uncomfortable kind that engenders pure humiliation and pummels her back into place, eyebrows furrowed and contentment spoiled – until the boredom gets to him.
The next time she sneaks a peek, then, he effects a gruff “Still ‘ere.”
She keeps to herself after that, nose buried in her grimoire like a chastened fawn.
It takes three weeks for her to settle into normalcy. By that time, Ghost’s patience has already started to wear thin.
The girl operates under the impression that he can’t do anything unless she orders it of him. He doesn’t blame her, credulous thing that she is. The notion is generally accepted by most of her grade, propagated by some text meant for beginners, written by a man who lacked the subtlety to discern between rules and good form. It’s true that familiar’s tend to only perform feats their counterparts ask for, but only because to do otherwise is bad practice. What else motivates a symbiotic relationship if not trust? Dependency?
Of course, that’s if a demon has anything to gain that a human can provide. He’s always found it to be a little more than pathetic. Reared to hunt, formidable in his thaumaturgic ability – Ghost has lasted centuries by remaining self-sufficient, unwilling to lean on the inferior class of rational beings. Unwilling to do their dirty work in exchange for blood he could obtain very well on his own. At least, that had been the conviction when he’d answered her graceless summons, bent on killing both his curiosity and hunger with one stone.
But something about her had made him glad to abide by the niceties. Had soothed the spring of his haunches as he prepared to pounce, or otherwise convinced him to play passive until golden opportunity struck. He’d wanted her to have as much a hand in her own unravelling, like a frog brought to a boil, entirely oblivious of its impending death until much too late. Her erroneous understanding of their dynamic, then, had paired nicely with his purposes. So he led her on to believe it, wasted most of his days amenable at the dining table as if waiting for instruction. As if she was the one in control, buzzing to shatter the perception when she inevitably asks something of him.
What he’s found, unsurprisingly, is that she’s blossomed under the reassurance. The initial fear that gripped her once she realised he wouldn’t be going away has since watered down to a weak, background agitation. He tastes it in the air; the mild unease as she flits about her cottage, the first thing to go when something else captures her attention. The way she hardly takes note of him anymore, waking up or retiring to sleep with nothing but covert glances to where he monopolises space.
So that feeling of frothing irritation returns at her docility, only more powerful than it had been when she’d offered her last chokecherries to the crow. No witch or wizard of her acumen has ever been so lacking in spite – and from what little she’s allowed him to see of her outbursts, he knows she isn’t short of it either. Yet she’d given up so quickly. Forfeited her home and comfort to a monster she hasn’t attempted to make any use of. And fuck– if that isn’t what he’d wanted. He needed her secure in him, pretty and soft enough that she’d be tempted to trade him for favours, for little feats of magic or the completion of chores she no longer has to worry about now that she doesn’t live alone.
Nevermind the detail that she refuses to ask anything of him; it still claws at him the wrong way, razor-sharp and deadly as it tears up his throat. This anger on her behalf. A compensation for the response she should be having. It stirs him when he realises that, for all intents and purposes, what he feels is pity. Perilous, committed sympathy.
There’s a reason he steers clear of it, too. Quick to snowball. He already feels it growing, avalanching into the hollow recess where he’d suppressed the soul of his first meal. Something shifts, then. He can’t place it. Just knows that the outcome he’d envisioned – where her bones serve to pick his teeth of the soft flesh from her thigh – is no longer a viable option. Just knows that his intentions with her mutate into something perhaps more dangerous, a little more unhinged. To weed out the wickedness he’s only seen in flashes. To see her corrupted into a far worse version of herself.
It’s late into his twentieth night when Ghost decides to do something about it.
He wedges back into her cottage when dawn splinters over the virgin snow. If he were a passionate man – not this hellhound trailing blood behind him like breadcrumbs – he’d remark on the way the tepid sunlight stains the forest in shades of peach and lurid blue. But the crow between his teeth hangs limp, and he’s hurried for the best way to present his gift, too absorbed in the task at hand to pay much mind to scenery.
The house is as tranquil as it always is at this time. Suspended in amber, a fossilised quaintness he’s grown used to. Golden, almost sticky slow. She’s still fast asleep on the couch, soft snores whistling from underneath a patchwork quilt (which smells so much like her that, to his mutt senses, they’re one-in-the-same form.) Despite the precarity of the moment, he makes no effort to keep quiet. His natural disposition isn’t prone to making any unintentional noise though, and so the only thing he disturbs are the dust motes bobbing in suspended animation.
Ghost places the dead bird on the table. It won’t be long before the blood drains from the punctures in its neck, and he prefers his meat iron-rich and wet, so he makes quick work of morphing back into his human form and washing his muzzle clean. There’s a sick thrill that curls in his gut; something like adrenaline, ozone-rich. Ruthless. He holds a crystalline picture of her reaction to the slaughtered friend he dragged into her home; angry, doe eyes glazed with tears as she yells at him for acting against her best wishes. Bad dog. Perhaps she’ll pull the dagger she keeps taped to the bottom of the table to indulge a sense of security. Perhaps she’ll drive it into his chest. That’s for hoping.
Standing over her now, he imagines the way her serene face morphs into something foul when she’s pushed to her limits. His cock twitches at the mental picture, aching behind the confines of his pants. A heavy hand moves to adjust it, stilling once it cups his balls to consider whether it’d be overkill to tug it over her face while she remains nice and still like this. It would be – not anything he’s above, granted, but excessive nonetheless. Besides, she’ll have plenty of time to accept the attention. Learn to love it, even.
When she wakes, Ghost has already plucked the crow. The feathers pile in the centre of her round dining table – distinctive even when detached from a body, meant for her to draw parallels to the game he currently masticates. Yet she hardly notes his presence at all. Instead, the unsuspecting thing merely clears the sleep from her bleary eyes, weighed down by a heavy cloak of sloth, more focused on wiping the drool off her chin than him. If she had been, perhaps the pieces would fall that much faster; at least, that’s what the quick-tick rap of his pulse insists upon.
But he’s no over-eager brute. He can wait.
Yet he is tense when she shuffles to and from the bathroom, bare feet padding along hardwood. Like a flood, his body grapples against the tidal urge to grab her jaw and force her gaze upon his bloody teeth, sharpened and marred behind the mouth of his true form. Look at me. Have you no survival instinct? There is a threat in your home and you parade in front of it, blind as a mole. You’ll get eaten like this. You’ll be condemned to hell between the jowls of horrible men.
(More monster than ever, really. Even like this, bound by his approximation of what a mortal man looks like, his face remains stuck to its original construction. The knitted mask he wears is more for her sake than his; he’s never been able to replicate the particulars of humanity. The delicate planes of their lips or the angles their noses protrude at. Better not to try, then. Better to hide it all away.)
It’s as she scrounges for breakfast that she finally heeds the pinpricks of blood dotting the floor. Fat, dark splotches draw a clear line from the doorway to a very calm Ghost, sat with his thighs spread over her too-tiny chair. He’s yet to finish his meagre meal – each bite seasoned with a satisfaction that bloats heavy in his stomach – hence the evidence of his crime still paints the corner red. A violent picture. Distressing, if he were to interpret the way her brows knit tight.
Crimson meat marbled ivory. Wings pried off a picked apart ribcage, shanks sucked clean of slightly tougher muscle. Still intact are the heart, tongue, liver – their membranes dissolving to soak into the table. The smell of death will be hard to rid of, he’s sure, much like the inedible parts of the bird that scatter carefully in front of him. Its glossy black talons. That tell-tale beak. Feathers on which her eyes linger, like she recognises the sheen but is too upset to connect it to the crow she fed daily. Her only friend.
She steps closer. Ghost devours every minute expression that flits upon her face. For the expressiveness of her pupils – contracted, small like organic pearls – she doesn’t portray much externally. Her fingers wring her skirt, twisting and twisting until it wrinkles in the impression of her thumb. Her lips purse into a thin line. But as far as his sharp observation goes; no tears. No ugly rage rippling her cheeks.
“What is this?” She asks in a small voice.
“Breakfast.” He says. It isn’t the response she’s looking for, and a frown tugs at her mouth. Not necessarily sad. Her hands release to clench at her sides. He smiles behind the mask. He can’t help himself.
“I didn’t tell you to do this.”
The smile breaks into a low chuckle. “No?”
“No.” Shaking her head, emotion surges up her throat. It bubbles thick and forces her to adopt a higher pitch to overpower it. “You brute. I-If you could’ve done whatever… whatever you wanted t-the whole time–”
“C’mere.” His hand snakes around her wrist, using it to wrench her closer. He consciously keeps his grip light – too much force and he could easily shatter bone – but the girl does not share his concern. She pulls and fights and stubbornly protests his direction.
“No! Get the fuck off! Get out!” She heaves. Seethes. Spittle launches from her tirade, her nails digging into his palm. She looks for blood but he won’t give it to her. She’s doing well, but not well enough. Eventually, he is able to pull her onto his lap, locking thick arms around her squirming form. “You bastard. You monster! I’ll fucking kill you. I’ll murder you in your sleep and feed your rotten insides to the maggots. Let me go!”
He’s blood-filled in his trousers. The hefty bulge knocks the small of her back and of all things, that’s what gets her to suddenly slacken. Though her chin tips to rest between her collarbones, lashes deliberately cast down. Refusing to meet his eye for all she’s worth. Good, he thinks, a warmth blossoming in his chest.
“You ough’ to know your friend didn’ put up a fight.” He starts, nosing the part in her hair. Despite his knitted mask serving as a direct barrier between them, he can smell the pine and juniper berry soap she uses to wash up. Sharp. Sweet. Particularly potent behind her ear, where he considers her lobes like low-hanging fruit.
“Shut up.”
“Need to hear this, pet.” She doesn’t listen, naturally, hips bucking wildly the instant he loosens his hold. His fingers bruise when he readjusts her on his thighs. “Need to know it was your fault as much as i’ was mine. Yeah? Y’let it grow too comfortable. Fed it daily and robbed i’ of its ingrained fear of strangers. In the end, it got much too friendly. Didn’ have the sense to fly away when I approached it.” Her breath pinches into a piercing whine. Ghost likens it to the kettle she keeps over her stove, waiting for steam to burst out of her ears.
It does not come. Instead, she cries. Beads of brine break her waterline, streaking miserable paths down her cheeks. He’ll grant her this: she does not sob unreasonably. Her hiccups are limited to if and when the air hardens in her lungs. He lets her have a moment before continuing.
“S’what happens, see. You get complacent, ‘n’ next thing you know, you’re meeting your God. Tell me, pet: do you think the afterlife would be pleasant to a witch?”
When she doesn’t respond, he bounces a knee to knock some sense back into her. Her weeping starts anew, only this time accompanied by a stuttered acknowledgement.
“Hm?”
“N-No.”
“No. ‘Course I could ‘ave told you that much, but it’s importan’ you come to the moral of the story yourself. Fight, or die.” Ghost strokes the goosepocked flesh of her upper arm, voice softening to deliver the final part of speech. It’s treacherously low, ultimatum like powdered ash cushioning the roughness in his throat. “And believe me when I say, dying ain’ the better option. There are far worse fates than me in Hell.”
He does not know whether it lands like he wants it to. If it accomplishes anything at all. But she doesn’t attempt to peel herself off him in the aftermath. Instead, she mourns herself dry for the next hour, snivelling wretchedly on his lap.
When her crying stops, the air is still laden with something. Hesitation rolls off her in waves, dense with the renewal of fear. He supposes it must be hypocritical of him, to both strike her with terror and expect her to overcome it, but he hums anyway, nudging her temple off his shoulder in an appeal to state what’s on her mind.
What comes instead is a deceptively simple question.
“What’s your name?” She asks. Doesn’t demand of him to tell her. Doesn’t set up grounds for him to ask for something in return. He can either answer, or not. She leaves the choice up to him. Clever girl.
He grapples with it a moment too long. A long dead man beats at his ribcage and demands to be heard. A meal he never managed to digest. Hissing. Snarling. S-Si-Si–
“Ghost.”
i do not have a taglist. to be alerted when i update, please follow @moondirti-archive and turn on post notifs.
#simon ‘ghost’ riley#simon 'ghost' riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley#ghost#call of duty#fanfiction#fanfic#modern warfare#cod mw2#simon 'ghost' riley x you#ghost x you#simon riley x you#simon ‘ghost’ riley x female reader#x female reader#xf!reader#dead dove#dark fic#fic ༄ cabin fever
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The Softest Launch (LN4)
Summary: He tried to be secret, but the eyes never lie.
Warnings: NOTHINGGGG language tho
Note: it was lance’s launch that sent me into this spiral
landonorris it was a good race ❤️
Comments:
mclarenfan22 YO WHO TF IS HE LOOKIN AT
- oscarandlando4ever carlos?
- mclarenfan22 idk abt that one girl
Lando-my-love i refuse to believe he has a girlfriend
- ln4andop81 the red heart is saying something else
oscarpiastri congrats on the podium man!
- mclarennnn what do you know.
- mclarensgirl oscar. spill it.
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landonorris fun day on the karting track! 🏎️
Comments:
ln4andop81 MAX IS IN ITALY WITH HIS GIRLFRIEND AND OSCAR IS OFF DOING PR IN LONDON WHO TF IS THIS.
- oscarandlando4ever we cant even fall back on carlos bc he is with charles at ferrari hq in italy as well
- Lando-my-love guys… i fear this is a soft launch
- mclarenfan22 DONT SAY THAT.
oscarpiastri tell her i said hi!
- mclarensgirlll HER????? PASTRY TELL US WHATS GOING ON
- landonorris will do!!
- mclarennn if this is his soft launch, i. will. cry.
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lando.jpg she’s learning 💋
Comments:
mclarennn WHO?????
ln4andop81 I CANT TAKE THIS ANYMORE
danielricciardo i still can’t believe you let her handle your camera
- landonorris ive given her other things that are delicate too
- danielricciardo shes made you a ball of mush
- landonorris a ball of love
- mclarensgirlll i have never been speechless before until rn
- mclarenfan22 GIVEN HER OTHER THINGS THAT ARE DELICATE TOO???? AS IN HIS HEART???? IM SLEEPING ON THE HIGHWAY ALREADY AND HE HASNT EVEN OFFICIALLY ANNOUNCED IT YET 😭😭😭
oscarandlando4ever hes soft launching her so well and so gently i cant im crying you can tell this one is different i think hes in love guys
Liked by landonorris
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maxverstappen 📸 creds -> lando’s “friend”
Comments:
landonorris i said say friend not “friend” ‼️
- mclarensgirlll BYE MAX IS TRYING TO HELP US OUT
- maxverstappen i think the soft launch is over mate
- ln4andop81 PLZ LET IT BE OMFG MY BRAIN CANT HANDLE IT ANYMORE
kellypicquet and lando said she was bad at taking pics 💀
- ynnnn idek where he got that from i literally have taken his insta pics for years
- Lando-my-love WHO IS ynnnn IS THAT HER???
- mclarenfan22 her account is priv but I THINK IT IS ALSO YEARS???? SHES BEEN TAKING HIS PICS FOR YEARS????
- oscarandlando4ever BRUH IF WE MISSED THIS RELATIONSHIP THIS WHOLE TIME IM THROWING MYSELF IN A WALL
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landonorris I’m going to try and keep this as brief as possible because Y/n is incredibly special to me and I would like to keep the best parts of her to myself, but, yes, I do have a girlfriend. As you can probably gather, her name is Y/n and she’s been my lifeline for the past 5 years. I know this picture doesn’t really do justice to how she looks or how we are as a couple, but I’ve found that I would like to keep it that way. She’s someone I hold very close to my heart and keeping the quiet, intimate moments just for us is a high priority for me. All I ask from all of you is that you treat her with the kindness she deserves and don’t bombard her on social media. I’ve kept her away from the spotlight for a long time and have only made her presence known because keeping her a secret seemed worse than letting the F1 world into that part of my life. I’m glad you’ve gotten to meet my love. I plan on spending the rest of my life with her. Xx
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TWITTER
mclarensgirlll YALL SEEN THE INTERVIEW WITH LANDO????????? BRO IM CRYING HES SO CUTE
- ln4andop81 reporter: “were you nervous to let everyone know about her?” Lando: “well, the drivers, my friends, and family all knew i had met someone because apparently, according to them, i had a different look in my eyes. So, announcing it to them wasnt that nerve racking because they already knew, but, to the public, yeah, I was nervous. More nervous than she was.” Reporter: “so she was nervous?” Lando: “only because she thought no one was going to like her which is and was absurd. She’s the greatest human being I’ve ever met. There’s genuinely no scenario I could think of that someone would end up even slightly disliking her.” BRO.
- Lando-my-love AND THE WAY HE TALKED ABT FIRST SEEING HER 😫😫 “it was like my eyes were glued to her. I guess i was just so in shock someone could be that beautiful and, sometimes, i still am.”
- mclarenfan22 DONT GET ME STARTED ON HIS PROTECTION OF HER BYE “well, she’s just so perfect to me. The world I live in can be ruthless and unfair and messy, all the things she isn’t. I love her that way. I love her for that. She’s my quiet place I can go to when my job and lifestyle get to be too much. She’s like a time out and we both agreed we want to keep it that way.”
- oscarandlando4ever PLZ THE WAY OSCAR EXPOSED HIM TOO “when she’s around, Lando is so much more tolerable. She can calm him in a way I have never seen before. In fact, the engineers and I all agreed around a year ago that she needed to start coming to races because he was always a hot head if it didn’t go well. When we found a way to sneak her in and she did start attending events, he actually started to breathe if things didn’t go his way.”
- mclarensgirlll AND THEN THE WAY LANDO ENDED THE INTERVIEW WITH “But anyways, i could talk about her for hours, something i told myself i wouldn’t do. I’m in love with her and I just hope people understand we want to be left alone for a while. Just until we get married.” CRYING BC I THINK HES RLLY OFF THE MARKET THIS TIME
- oscarpiastri i know all of you want me to “spill” but really all i can tell you is that, yes, norizz officially rizzed his perfect girl and, yes, he is really off the market this time.
#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1 x reader#lando norris imagine#lando norris x reader#mclaren#lando norris fanfic#lando norris fluff#lando norris imagines#lando norris#lando norris x you#lando norris smut#lando norris fanfiction#lando norris edit#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri smut#oscar piastri fluff#oscar piastri fanfic#oscar piastri fanfiction#oscar piastri imagines#oscar piastri#oscar piastri imagine#daniel ricciardo#max verstappen#kelly piquet#max fewtrell
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hii ^^ i looove your writing !! i’m so obsessed with this idea of best friend!eddie teaching virgin!reader how to give head😭😭😭 like maybe they’re watching a movie and a sex scene comes on and out of pure curiosity she’s like “i wonder how it feels…does it feel good?” and omg he would be so vocal, sweet, and instructional😭😭😭
Just call me Mr. Munson
rockstar!eddie munson x virgin best friend fem!reader
⚠️warnings: smut, 18+ mdni, oral (m receiving), slight female masturbation, corruption kink, slight dom!eddie, very dirty talk, honestly just filth, no use of y/n, overuse of the nickname peach and baby, eddie’s soft for us, readers 20 while Eddie is 21, corroded coffin are in the infancy of their career thus nothing has really changed in eddies life.
wc: 3.7k
note: thank you so much @wdsara48 for the request and the kind words! I hope you enjoy, babe 💗 (remember to tip your writers with a comment and reblog)
Your best friend is a rockstar, you always knew he’d make a name for himself with his music, you couldn’t have been more happy for him, but you also miss him like crazy when he’s on tour.
You’d always hang out with the guys when they’d get back; go out for drinks, have game nights at Eddie’s place which usually consisted of dnd, or hit up whatever party was happening that weekend.
The first couple of days were always the best, they would still be in their sex, drugs and rock and roll headspace, trying to adjust to normality after a crazy tour.
You knew all about their sexual escapades while away, of course they weren’t directly said to you, but to each other as you listened in, they’d occasionally throw you a look of remorse as if they’d ruin your virgin ears with their banter. Okay, so you were a virgin, it’s not like you can’t talk about sex though, you more often than not felt like their little sister and it drove you crazy.
You wanted to get some experience and maybe impress them with stories of your own, but when it came down to it, you chickened out. The thought of having sex with a random guy for the sake of gaining experience just didn’t sit right with you, and so you were never able to follow through with it.
You had always secretly hoped that Eddie would maybe teach you some stuff, you would replay possible conversations in your mind of how you’d want to ask him, but you couldn’t follow through with that either. Maybe you just weren’t meant to be experienced in that area, maybe it’s a good thing. Yeah, that’s what you tell yourself but it never really feels truthful.
Tonight you and Eddie have movie night, something you both like to do when he’s just gotten home and in need of ‘his best friend time’ as he puts it. You went and hung out at family video for awhile, Eddie catching up with Steve and Robin while you browsed the new releases, finally settling on some b rated cheesy horror movie and some snacks.
Once back at Eddie’s trailer, you set up the movie while he puts the popcorn on the stove, and unbags the rest of the junk food, while grabbing two beers out the fridge for you both. Throwing the popcorn in whatever big bowl he can find, he makes his way to you, with his arms full.
“Alright, you ready?” He motions to the tv with his head, while trying to gently place everything on the coffee table. “I have a feeling this is gonna be really gory, but yeah I’m ready.” You say before shoving a couple kernels of popcorn into your mouth, “it’s okay, peach. You know if it gets too scary you can always hold onto me.” He beams with a smug smirk. The use of his childhood nickname for you, makes your cheeks bloom a bright red, though it wasn’t out of embarrassment, but an overwhelming sense of pride that no one other than you, knew this side of Eddie, this sweet gentle side. You knew one day he’d get a girlfriend and she’d see this side plus so much more, the thought made your stomach twist in knots but couldn’t think about that, for now you would savor the moments you two spend together.
“Yeah, you’d like that wouldn’t you?” You jokingly say, you rarely join in on Eddie’s flirting so when you do, it always catches him off guard. He side eyes you with a small smirk. “So, do you wanna smoke before I press play?” He asks while rubbing his palms on his Jean clad thighs. “Yeah, we can smoke.” Smoking with Eddie usually consists of you taking one hit while he kills the rest.
Correction, you took two hits this time, while Eddie took a couple more than you, before putting the joint out in the ashtray and discarding it off to the side, while pressing play on the remote. Something in the air felt different this time, you couldn’t put your finger on it but there was a tension you were never aware of before. Eddie kept sneaking glances at you, but when you’d look, his eyes would be on the screen, aside from the two times his eyes didn’t look away fast enough. You wanted to ask him if something was wrong or if you had something on your face, but the weed almost made you feel stuck or maybe you were too afraid of what would come out of the conversation.
After sitting in silence watching teenagers be picked off one by one, by some psycho killer as you sipped your beer and every once in a while grabbed for a candy or some popcorn. You took one last glance at Eddie, your eyes met but he looked away almost immediately back onto the screen.
When you looked back at the tv, the scene in front of you was a rather erotic one. The couple were in a car at some type of ‘lovers lake’ spot, the girl was bent over the middle console sucking the guys dick, while his head was thrown back on the head rest.
“What does that feel like?” The words leave your mouth before you are even able to grasp what it was you actually asked. “What?” Eddie asked as his eyebrows furrowed. “Getting head, what does it feel like?” You already asked, might as well find out the answer. “Um, well I mean it feels good.” He says, his eyes meeting yours as he white knuckles his beer bottle, taking a swig. “Mmm, I’ve always wanted to try it.” You don’t know what has come over you, almost like the weed has some type of truth serum in it, you couldn’t stop word vomiting your every thought.
Eddie almost spit out his sip of beer, but instead he swallows it harshly before choking. You sit up and pat his back, while laughing. “Shit, are you okay? Here, put your hands up.” You say as you try to help him lift his right arm into the air. “He pulls his arm away while rubbing his chest, “I’m alright.” He says gently, “you just, you can’t say shit like that, peach. Not to me.”
Now your eyebrows furrow, because what the fuck? He’s your best friend, he can talk about different women all day long and how he fucks them side ways from Monday, but you inquire about one sexual question and now it’s “you can’t say shit like that to me.” You roll your eyes and turn your body towards the tv, huffing out a breath in annoyance.
A couple minutes pass by before Eddie is knocking you out of your thoughts. “Listen, peach I-I,” you cross your arms as he talks, before you cut him off. “Eddie, it’s fine just drop it.” Eddie didn’t know how to drop shit, so you knew that wasn’t gonna happen. “Look at me.” He said with a domineering tone, making you turn your head almost immediately. “Listen, I just- I understand you’re curious and as your best friend I shouldn’t be weird about you, ya’ know experimenting and all that but, I don’t know the thought of some creep seeing you like that, I don’t know it just pisses me off.” He says through gritted teeth. “I get it Eddie, you look at me like your little sister or something.” You say as your head snaps back to the screen, screams booming from the speakers as one of the girls tries to outrun the killer.
“A sister?” Eddie says almost as low as a whisper, “I don’t think of you like a sister, peach. If I had a sister I definitely wouldn’t hang out with her as much as I do with you.” His words make your stomach flutter. “You don’t?” You ask in surprise. “No, no I don’t” Eddie says before taking another swig of his beer. “Well, so why does the thought of me doing that with someone piss you off?” You’re genuinely confused now. “I don’t know, it’s just you're so innocent about shit like that, and I don’t want someone taking advantage of you or..” he trails off before you begin talking, “okay? Well I mean I want to learn, I don’t wanna be a virgin forever.” You say as you roll your eyes. “And you will, just make sure he’s the right guy, ya’ know?”
“Isn’t the purpose to be good before you find the right guy?” You snort, “not necessarily.” He says back, while meeting your eyes. “Not many guys want a girl who doesn’t even know how to suck dick, correctly. Let alone a boring virgin.” You gloomily say while shooting him a bittersweet smile.
“Cmon peach, you’re more than your sexual status, you know that right?” He tilts his head closer to you, doing his best silly face to make you laugh, it worked just like it always did. “There she is.” He smirks.
A couple more minutes pass by before you say the words you’ve been wanting to say for so long, no more overthinking it. “Eddie?” You whisper, capturing his attention as he turns to look at you, “can you teach me?” His eyes widen, his mouth slightly drops open and it moves like he wants to say something but the words are stuck, until finally he’s able to get them out “Y-you want me to teach you?” He says in disbelief.
“Well, I mean I trust you more than anyone, and I’m sure you know what you like, so why not?” You shrug and then turn your head back to the tv for a second before you find his eyes again. “Are you sure about that, peach? I mean I want you to really know what you’re asking for here?” His knee begins bouncing before he’s reaching for the leftover joint in the ashtray. “I’m a big girl Eddie, I know what I’m asking for.” You smirk at the fact that you’re able to fluster him like this. “Okay, so you know the only way I can teach you is by, uh by showing you right?” You’ve never seen him this nervous before, maybe you should’ve done this earlier. “Yes, Eddie. How else would you teach me?” You raise an eyebrow, as he lights up the joint and takes a hit.
“Fuck, peach are you positive you wanna do this? I don’t wanna like fuck up our friendship or make shit weird between us.” He stares into your eyes, a look of genuine concern on his face as the smoke bellows from his mouth. You can’t help the insecurities bubbling up inside of you,“Eddie, if I'm not good enough to suck your dick, then just say that.” Your shoulders slump against the back of the couch, you look away because you can’t bear the rejection.
“Not good enough? What the fuck does that mean?” He says while scooting himself closer to the edge of the couch, trying to see your face from where he’s seated, you don’t answer. “Hey!” He almost shouts with that same domineering tone from earlier. He grabs your cheeks, almost pinching them, making your mouth fall open in an “o” shape. He turns your eyes to meet his, “look at me when I’m talking to you, peach.” His dominant voice gets softer at your nickname, the whole thing has you feeling butterflies somewhere else.
“You wanna learn? Okay then, get on your knees for me, and I’ll teach you. Just call me Mr. Munson.” He says with a cackle, making you laugh along.
You get up from your spot and take a couple steps, now standing in front of Eddie’s wide opened legs, he’s now sitting with his back flush against the couch, knees spread. You sink down to your knees, and look up at him for direction. He stares at you for a couple seconds, while his chest rises and falls.
“Okay, first you’re gonna unbuckle my belt.” He says with a low gruff voice, somehow you were able to undo the belt from the handcuff buckle, rather quickly.
You didn’t need to be told how to take his pants off, unbuttoning and unzipping them with fervor, before you put your thumbs under the waistband of his jeans and plaid boxers, but before you began pulling them down, Eddie stopped you— “hold on, baby.” He breathily says as he puts his heavily tattooed hands over yours, “I uh,” his hands are trembling, everything feels like too much in the moment, he’s never called you baby before but also, why is he so nervous? You know he’s gotten his dick sucked more than he probably even remembers yet here he is more nervous than you.
“Peach, I-I uh, you know I really care about you, right?” His gaze is stirring something inside of you, the adoration in his eyes, clear as day. “Yeah, of course I know that, Ed’s. I care about you too.” You beam up at him, from your spot between his legs.
He removes his right hand from yours, bringing his thumb to your jaw, gliding it against your skin inching closer towards your lips, Eddie rubs the pad of his thumb over your pouty bottom lip, moving it back and forth until his finger stops abruptly. “Open” was all he had to say for you to obey, you open.
His thumb instantly on your tongue, you didn’t need any more instruction as you took his thumb into your mouth and sucked.
“Fuck” Eddie panted while holding your gaze, “you’re so fucking pretty, peach.” He took a few more heavy breaths before he continued, “I’ve always wanted to see you like this.” You can’t believe what he’s saying, ‘he’s always wanted to see me like this? Since when?’ But that’s a question for another day, you want this too bad.
Instead you shoot him a little smirk, “are you ready Mr. Munson?” You say in a seductive tone. “Y-yeah, I’m ready baby.” He laughs at the title he threw around earlier. Your thumbs take up their old position, slowly pulling his boxers and black jeans down to his knees. Eddie’s cock springs out, at attention. You don’t know much about dicks but he looks painfully hard, almost purple and throbbing while the tip leaks clear beads of precum, it makes your mouth water.
You reach for his cock, wrapping your dainty hand around his huge length. Eddie moves to sit up more, as if he needs to see everything you’re doing, “mmm, spit on it baby.” He softly commands as he bites his bottom lip. You get higher up on your knees, mouth a couple inches above his cock, letting a glob of spit fall out of your mouth and onto his angry tip.
Eddie shudders, before he continues his instructions. “Good girl, now rub the spit all over the head and shaft before you start the hand job, it can kind of hurt when it’s dry.” He says before yanking up his band shirt and pulling it up over his head, throwing it over the armrest of the couch.
Your eyes rake over his upper body, as you continue to pump him, his array of tattoos, some you’ve seen some you haven’t, along with nipple rings, yeah you’ve never seen those before. Fuck, he looked so good. You continued to gawk until your eyes met his, his cocky smile looking down at you, knowingly.
“See something you like, peach?” His cocky smile turned into a toothy grin. “Maybe” was all you said before taking his tip into your mouth and lightly sucking. Eddie’s hand flies to your hair, gently taking a handful, “fuck, I didn’t tell you to do that yet, did I? You’re supposed to be a good girl and listen, okay?” He says before pulling you off of his cock. “First I want you to lick from my balls up to the tip, do you understand?” He says while he has your hair pulled back and chin pointed up towards him, almost face to face.
You’ve never seen Eddie this way before, so in charge, so demanding, almost mean but so sexy.
You do as he asked, licking a strip up from his balls to his tip, out of pure curiosity you licked the new beads of precum just to taste, “fuck, you’re such a good girl” he growls, the praise going straight to your pussy.
“Okay baby, now I want you to do what you did before, put your mouth around the tip and suck.” You waste no time, putting the tip back into your mouth and sucking a little harder than before. “Fuck, just like that. Now, look up at me, peach. I need to see those pretty eyes, baby.” When you look up at Eddie, you want to commit the sight in front of you to memory and use it every time you're alone in your bed at night. His eyes were lust filled, his jaw was slack, his head was tilted down as he watched you through his lashes.
“Good girl, peach!” He groans “okay, now take it a little deeper, yes! Fuck that’s it, baby. Just like that.” You couldn’t help it any longer, you were so turned on, you snuck your hand inside your shorts, grinding down on your fingers as they slid across your soaked clit. You continued bobbing on Eddie’s cock, he gathered your hair up in a makeshift ponytail as he controlled your movements.
He was trying so hard not to push your head down and begin fucking your throat, like he was use to. No, he had to be gentle with you, his little peach. In high school, he had this fantasy almost nightly, you sucking his cock, on your knees all cute and innocent. Fuck, he felt like a pervert back then because of it. But now, it’s really fucking turning him on, and he’s more than okay with that.
He sits up slightly as he notices your right hand has disappeared, “are you touching yourself?” He asks with a wide eyed gaze. “Yes, I can’t help it, you’re so sexy.” You whine, not even realizing what you said.
“Oh?” He smirked, “you think I’m sexy?” His hips buck, making his tip hit the back of your throat, gagging you. “Fuck, I think you’re so fucking sexy, keep playing with your little pussy baby, cum for me.” He panted, “I wanna see your face when you come, peach. I need to see it.” You slid his cock out of your mouth as you began rubbing your clit harder, “mmm, oh fuck.” You moaned out, eyes rolling back.
“You sound so pretty, too. Can you take your shirt off for me, peach? Can I see your tits?” He begged, you slipped your hand out of your waistband, reaching for the hem of your shirt and pulling it over your head, then you unclasp the black bra that cupped your boobs perfectly. Eddie, doesn’t take his eyes off of you.
You pull the bra from your body, and throw it at him, as you giggle. “Goddamn,” he said under his breath as he sat up to get a better look, left hand lazily stroking his cock. His right hand reaches before he pulls it back, “can I- can I touch?” He asks softly. “Yes, you can touch Ed's.” You say with an innocent bat of your lashes.
He used both hands to grab handfuls of each breast, squeezing and pinching at your nipples. “You really are so beautiful, you know that?” He asks, as he looks over your body and face.
“Yeah? You think so?” You ask as you reach for his cock, missing the way it felt between your fingers and in your mouth. “Oh, I know so.” He chuckles
“Teach me more, Ed’s? I wanna make you cum.” You whisper as you move your head closer to his cock, he can feel your breath on him, but it’s your words that are really doing it for him. He never thought he’d hear you like this, no matter how many times he’s fantasized, but now that he has, he’s addicted. He wants to be your first everything, he has to be.
“Fuck, keep touching yourself with my cock in your mouth, baby.” He whimpers, sitting flush against the couch again, with his head thrown back.
You stuff him back into your mouth, sucking and licking while your hand finds its way back into your shorts and over your clit.
“Yes fuck! Deepthroat baby, breathe through your nose and swallow, look up at me. Fuck yes, Jesus your mouth feels so fucking good.” He scrunches his face up in pleasure, letting out little “fucks” and “shits” as you took him deeper in your throat.
“Mmm alright, spit on it again.” He says as he takes his cock in his hand, slapping your bottom lip with it. You do as you’re asked, “fuck yeah, I like my head sloppy, baby.” You can tell he’s antsy and wants to cum and you’re right behind him, as you continue to rub yourself.
“Take your other hand and wrap it around the middle. Mhm, perfect peach, now I want you to put your mouth on me again, just the tip and a little bit of the shaft, yes just like that, fuck.” You’d do just about anything he asked of you right now, especially if he continues with those moans and his sweet words of praise.
“Okay, now I want you to twist your hand and go up and down, while you suck.” At first it was hard to keep the same rhythm as your hand, but you quickly got the hang of it. “Oh fuck! Oh my god baby! You’re fucking perfect.” He begins bucking his ups up towards your mouth, spit covering your hand as you continue your ministrations on him.
you’re so focused on making him feel good, you forgot about getting yourself off.
“Look at me, baby.” The sight of your tear stained cheeks and glossy eyes, got him. “I’m cumming, fuck!” You take it all into your mouth not letting even a drop go. “Holy shit, peach.” He growls “swallow it.” He demands, while watching you. “Let me see.” Another demand. You stick out your tongue, to show him you did as you were asked.
“Good girl, now get up here and let me make you cum.”
Thank you for reading! 🍑
#eddie munson#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x reader#eddie x reader#eddie munson x female reader#eddie x y/n#eddie x you#eddie munson fanfic#eddie x fem!reader#eddie munson fluff#eddie stranger things
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Can I request Tav and astarion but they get trapped together and astarion has to feed but feels like Tav offering isn’t really giving consent since they are trapped and he thinks they feel obligated. Bonus points if they’re also bickering and pining for other
this was so much fun to write! i may have gotten a little carried away but i hope you enjoy!! requests are still open if anyone is interested<3 i'm really enjoying writing these and am open for more ideas!!
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*
trapped
pairing ; astarion x gender neutral!reader
summary ; a wild treasure hunt leads to an unfortunate situation where you find yourself stuck in a cave-in with Astarion. / ao3
other info ; wyll, karlach and gale get special roles in this because i physically cannot stop myself from including other companions in the background. no real spoilers for the game so you're free to read wherever you are in the game!!
warnings ; vampire feeding, blood mention, vague mention of Astarion's past, general conversation surrounding consent (but everything is consensual because that's hot)
word count ; 5.9k (again. went a little wild)
You have no idea how long you have been walking for. It feels like days though you are certain it was only a few hours. The lack of sunlight is starting to get to you and the cramped cave system you are walking through is really not where you wanted to be today.
Was it a little ridiculous to be chasing a lead you found on a note on a dead traveller? Probably. Did you have to convince everyone that it wouldn't be a waste of their time? Yes. But here you are, travelling in the dark to hunt down buried treasure.
Karlach was more than happy to join you, in fact she was the first one who volunteered to be part of the “treasure hunting team”, as she called it. She managed to get Wyll involved and you were happy with this group. As you were getting ready to leave you had a last minute addition to the team - Astarion. Why he wanted to join you trekking through a damp cave, you had no idea. You weren’t going to ask, either.
So, here you are in the depths of a cave system, following a badly drawn map that should lead you all to hidden treasure. It took you way too long to get to this location and the day is already drawing to a close. You are certain you weren’t going to make it back to camp before nightfall. This treasure has to be worth it.
Through flooded areas and tight walkways, the deeper you get into the cave the quicker your hopes that this treasure would be easy to find crumbles. On the map it looks simple, yet the actual cave was difficult to navigate and you are not as prepared as you thought you would be. Perhaps you should have taken the spare rope from Halsin before you left camp. Karlach spends the time picking up interesting rocks she comes across, rushing over to show you with a grin on her face and a list of places to put it back at camp. You have a few rocks she gave to you in your pocket and you are glad that her optimism never falters the longer you travel. Wyll has marked arrows on the walls to keep track of where you have been, which is an idea that didn't even cross your mind until you noticed him doing it. And Astarion is… complaining.
Maybe complaining is the wrong word. It's more like he has been announcing loudly how he thought this would be an easy task to complete. He didn't sign up to be wading through knee deep cave water or scrambling over rocks to get to the next area. Neither did you, but you aren’t complaining about it.
You have managed to drown out his comments for the most part, keeping your focus on following the map and making sure not to get lost. There have been a few times where you almost walked on some loose stone and went plummeting down into the depths of the cave and you really didn't fancy getting stuck down here. You have also noticed the further you went into the cave the more dust and debris that fell from the ceiling. A sinking feeling begins to settle in your stomach and you approach each step with caution.
“Personally I think this map is leading us to a dead end,” Astarion says as he slinks up next to you, ignoring how lost in focus you were. “We should cut our losses and return back to camp before nightfall, don’t you agree?”
The dust from the ceiling drops in front of you again as you pause, reaching an arm out to stop Astarion in his tracks. “Be quiet, would you?”
“Everything alright?” Wyll asks from behind, hand reaching for his rapier in case something jumps out to attack.
Either something was down here with you or the cave ceiling isn’t as strong as you would like. You didn't know which thought was worse. Turning back to Wyll and Karlach, you shake your head slightly. “Be on your guard. Something’s off.”
“This is what I’ve been saying for the past five minutes. Have you seriously not been listening to me?” Astarion asks as you continue walking at a slower pace now, acutely aware of every foreign noise that doesn’t come from your group.
“Not really. I’m trying to keep us alive here,” you reply quietly, eyes darting from the floor to your surroundings in quick succession.
You stop in your steps as you hear the rumbling grow louder, though Astarion keeps talking even after you shush him again. It’s a rolling noise, one that grows the more you focus on it; a sound of rock against rock and a low rumble from above. You cast your gaze upwards and spot the beginnings of a large crack splitting the ceiling. Like pressure on ice, it splits into several off shoots before crumbling beneath whatever weight was on it.
You quickly pull Astarion towards you, dragging him away from the collapsing ceiling as you both fall to the floor with a thud. In an instant, your surroundings grow darker as a wall of stone and rubble barricades you and Astarion from Wyll and Karlach. The dust settles from the sudden upheaval of rock and the noise you have been hearing stops. Shit.
“Are you both alright?” Wyll calls out from behind the rubble and you can hear the sound of stone grating against stone which only cements your idea that this could be an early grave for you both if you didn't think fast.
You glance over at Astarion who is dusting himself off, rubbing at his elbow in a way that makes you assume he landed on it wrong. “We’re alive… just.”
“Does the map show any other ways to get to you? I’m not certain we can budge all this stone…” Wyll asks as you hear the sound of metal against the stone and a disappointed sigh from Karlach. You sit upright, grabbing the map from where it fell onto the ground and frown. It was a one way system, looping back around the way you came once you got to where the treasure was. This pathway is the only way in and out of the cave. You are stuck.
“So, uh… bad news… There’s no other way around,” you reply. The silence that follows on their end is not a good sign, however it is quickly broken by Astarion.
“What?!” He looks at you in dismay, his face falling at the thought of being stuck here. “You cannot be serious.”
“We’ll find a way to get you guys out! Don’t even stress!” Karlach yells. Her voice gets quiet but you can still hear her. “Do you think they’re stressed, Wyll?”
You take a moment to assess the cave-in, trying to budge a few rocks out of place but nothing moves. Perhaps with enough force they could be displaced, but you don’t have anything on that level right now.
“Wyll? Do you have anything that could push the rocks away?” you ask, hoping he has something in or on him that could force the rocks out of place.
“I don’t…” he pauses for a moment, before you hear him click his fingers together as an idea forms. “But Gale does. I know the spell you are hinting at. We can go back and get him?” he suggests, and you run the time it would take for them to get back to camp and back here again in your head. They would be back by early morning at the earliest… Which means you will need to spend the night in a cold, slightly damp cave. You give Astarion a look.
“Don’t look at me like that. I’m not going to dig our way out. My hands are way too delicate for that,” he says, turning his back to the problem at hand.
“Gale seems to be our only way out, which means we may need to spend the night here…” you tell him.
“Gale? Our only hope? What is he going to do, talk the rocks to death?” He rolls his eyes. “Surely there’s another way out?”
“There isn’t.” You sigh, rubbing at your temples as you begin to feel a stress headache forming. “And he can use spells, Astarion. Gale can shatter the rocks or something. They’re too tightly packed to move them normally. We’re stuck here until he can sort it out.”
“Great. Wonderful, actually. I’ve always wanted to spend a night in a cave. Thanks for this, really!” His voice drips with sarcasm and you have to physically hold yourself back from getting annoyed at him.
“I didn't personally cause this cave in! You think I want to be stuck here with you like this? Gods, you are infuriating.”
Before the argument could escalate, Wyll calls out from behind the wall of rocks that he and Karlach are going to head back to camp and grab Gale. They’ll be as quick as they can, he promises. It gives you some reassurance that you will not be stuck here for too long with Astarion.
The sound of your fellow companions leaving fills you with anxiety as the clock begins to tick on getting you both out alive. This is not how you planned this trip to go and you are starting to wonder if this was even worth it at this point. Astarion didn't seem to think so.
"For your information, I am not sleeping on the floor with no bedroll. This is expensive fabric, I’m not ruining it.” Astarion gestures to his outfit as you begin to set yourself down on the ground, ready to call it a day.
“We’ve camped in worse places, I don’t understand why you’re complaining so much about this,” you say, rummaging through your bag and thanking the Gods you packed some food for yourself.
“At least at camp I have my tent. And all my belongings. And comfort. Do I need to go on?” He shifts in his stance, looking down the tunnel to avoid your gaze.
You glare at him. “Okay, fine, I guess this isn’t an ideal place to rest. But I don’t want to travel too far in case we get lost. And then we’ll probably die down here. Do you want that?”
He sighs but doesn’t make a comment. You take it as a win.
After placing the contents of your bag onto the ground you come to two conclusions. One: the floor is far too damp to start a fire which means you are going to spend the next few hours cold. Two: you have enough food for yourself, but you aren’t sure if Astarion bought anything of use with him. You didn't see him pack much before he said he was joining you. He is still standing when you look over to him again.
“Are you going to stand all night?” you ask as he nods, still avoiding your gaze.
“Like I said. Expensive fabric. I’m not ruining it because someone got us trapped in here,” he replies and you roll your eyes. Wordlessly, you unbuckle your cloak from your shoulders and place it down on the floor for him. The dampness of the floor is most likely going to ruin your nice and expensive cloak, but at least it will stop him complaining. Hopefully.
He looks from you to the cloak and back again, confusion crossing his face and disappearing as quickly as it arrived. “What’s that for?”
“Just sit down. Please.” You start to reorganise the contents of your back, returning the tinderbox and an almost empty waterskin but keeping out the food you swiped before you left. When you look back up, you see Astarion has sat down atop your cloak. You hold back a smile.
The silence that falls over the both of you is broken by droplets of water or the sound of other vaguely ominous cave noises. If your timing is right you are certain it was now early evening. Hopefully Karlach and Wyll have left the cave by now.
“Did you bring any food?” you ask after a little while passes. It’s only when the question leaves your lips that you realise it is a stupid one. The look Astarion gives you only enhances your point.
“Yes, actually. I have three live rabbits tucked neatly away in my bag in case I fancied a snack,” he responds, opening up his pack with a flourish. “Did you want one? I’m so happy to share.” A few books and his trusty thieves tools were the only things you spot before he shoves his bag to the side with a frown. “Of course I didn't bring any food.”
You feel bad holding a stale bread roll in your hand as he tells you that and you lower it down slightly, letting him continue his rant.
“I was considering going to hunt down a cave bat or something. Not what I wanted, but I guess a life of “adventure”-” he says the word with exaggerated air quotes around them, “means that I bury the idea that I’ll ever get a lavish meal again.” He crosses his arms in annoyance.
“You shouldn’t eat a bat. You could get sick. Rabies, or something like that,” you tell him, though you aren’t sure your fun fact is a welcomed sight right now. The look on his face tells you that it isn't. “Halsin told me that after I tried to convince him to keep a family of bats that were living near one of the spots we set up camp a while ago…”
Astarion blinks, unsure of how he is supposed to react to that nugget of information. “Now my meal options have been reduced to nothing. Thanks. You’re truly a beacon of hope.”
An idea pings into your mind as you take in how irritated he is getting, most likely from the lack of food on his part. Not that you have been keeping tabs on when he would feed but from your calculations it had been a while. The last time he fed on you was a week or so ago and you still felt the sting of his fangs against your neck even now. It is an uncomfortable sensation and you were certain that it would only happen again in dire circumstances.
This feels like a dire circumstance…
“You can feed on me if you want.” The words come out quickly before you have a chance to think too deeply about the implications of it. You take a mouthful of bread to stop yourself from taking back the offer.
The irritation on his face dissipates into a softer look, one you didn't recognize. His usual quick remarks have vanished at your suggestion and it takes him a good minute to respond. The minute feels like hours to you as you start to regret even offering. Was it weird? Did you say it in a strange way?
“You don’t… I mean, I’m sure I’ll manage until we get back to camp.” He waves nonchalantly though you are unsure if he really means it.
“No offence but I have noticed you lagging behind a little lately…” you begin, unable to hold your gaze on him. “I just assumed, well, y’know… Plus I have a lot of blood to spare, so I don’t mind.” You cringe a little at that last sentence, wondering why you said it like that.
“It’s really not a big deal, I’m perfectly fine! If need be I can always go and find…” he grimaces at the next few words that leave his mouth, “a cave rat or something.”
You aren’t sure if you should feel offended at how he hasn’t jumped on the opportunity to feed from a person. Maybe it is because of how little you allowed him to feed on you. Maybe he hates you and would rather drink blood from a rat than you. You push that thought away with a frown.
“Astarion, I’m offering this to you if you need to,” you say as you set down your own food. “I’d rather you do it while I’m awake this time.” You see that he is thinking of more ways to put barriers between him and feeding on you and you wish he could be straightforward with you and say no.
“You’re all the way over there and like I said before, I don’t want to get my clothes wet,” he says and you can’t help but laugh at that. “What?”
“You can tell me no, it’s okay. I just thought I’d offer seeing as I really doubt you’ll find many cave rats around.”
He’s quiet for a moment and you can’t work out what he’s thinking. With what little you know about Astarion and his past you can’t help but assume he hasn’t had that many opportunities to say no to things.
He considers his words, opening and closing his mouth a few times before sighing, looking at you with a soft frown. “I don’t want you to feel like you are obligated to do this considering our circumstance.”
You blink in confusion at that, unsure why he feels that way. You wouldn't have offered if you didn't feel comfortable in allowing him to feed, so why was he convinced you were doing this because there was no other option?
“We haven’t built up much of a feeding rapport, that’s all! We haven’t… done this much. It still feels new.” He looks away and it clicks in your head at once - he’s nervous. You are also incredibly nervous about this, but if it means he is at the top of his game afterwards then the pain would be a small price to pay for it.
“I have no idea how else I’m supposed to say this: I’m giving you permission to feed on me, Astarion.” You want to know what he is thinking as your words hang in the air. You want to tell him that this is you telling him it’s okay, you’re wanting this just as much as he needs it.
He waits a moment, like he is expecting you to tell him you're joking or change your mind but it doesn't happen. When he realises you mean this and aren't saying it for the sake of it, he gives you a nod.
"Alright. Only if you're sure," he says quietly, moving over on your cloak to give you room beside him. You move over to sit next to him, glad to be off the cold floor and sitting on something that wasn't as uncomfortable.
"Is this alright? Do you need me to be in a certain position?" you ask quickly, shifting yourself from sitting on your knees to crossing your legs.
"It's easier if you lay down," he replies, quickly adding, "for the blood flow."
"Right. That makes sense." You check to see how much room you have of your cloak behind you before shuffling forward, coming face to face with Astarion for a moment. The sudden closeness causes you to stop in your tracks for a moment, holding his gaze for a moment longer than what is normal.
It's strange how you never really see Astarion without his guard up. Whenever you two bicker it was always with his signature smile on his face and a carefree laugh after each comment. But seeing him here and now with the gentle furrow of his brows and the soft lines etched along his face you can't help but try to memorise it all. Without even realising you found yourself moving a hand up to brush some hair from his face, stopping yourself once it rested ever so lightly against his cheek. You are about to pull away until you feel him lean into the touch, something you had not planned on happening.
The sound of a loose rock falling a little way away causes the moment to break as you pull away from him quickly, ready to move in case there was another cave in.
In an instant, the facade he has is pulled back up. "Are you trying to get me to starve to my death?" he asks once you have realised there was no chance of another incident. You laugh a little in response, cheeks warming up at the moment the two of you just shared.
"Wanted the last thing I saw to be something good. You know, in case you drink all of my blood and I die," you tease, before laying back on your cloak. The reality of what was about to happen is starting to settle in now and you keep your focus on the ceiling above you, not on Astarion.
"I promise you I won't kill you. I don't have any way of getting you back and I'd rather not have to explain to the others what happened," he replies, hands moving to either side of your head to hold himself up. He's at an angle, legs staying to one side of you. It's a little awkward and you can tell it's not ideal for him.
"That's good to hear! I do bring a scroll of revivify with me everywhere so we have a backup plan… just in case." It is hard to keep your gaze on the ceiling now as Astarion leans over you. Your heart pounds heavily against your chest and you cannot work out if it's because you know you are about to lose blood and it was working to keep it flowing or perhaps because of something else you didn't want to admit to yourself.
"Are you ready?" he asks softly, and you can already anticipate the sharp sting of his fangs piercing your skin. You give him a nod and turn your head to the side, exposing your neck to him.
He leans in and you can feel his breath against your neck. It takes everything in you to not turn to look at him, even seeing him so close out of the corner of your eye was enough to redden your cheeks. You hope he didn't notice.
The sudden pain is sharp and takes you off guard, reaching to grab onto Astarion's shoulder tightly to try and take your mind off of it. It's not as bad as the first time he fed from you, but it certainly isn't any better. He shifts positions as you see his legs now straddling you, and if anyone were to suddenly burst down the wall of rock it would be a rather embarrassing encounter for everyone. You forgot how intimate this whole ordeal could be.
You close your eyes as the pain subsides, now giving way to a feeling of numbness that crashes over you. You're very aware of the feeling of his lips against your neck and it would be so easy to let yourself imagine this was something else entirely. But then you move and the discomfort of your blood being removed from your body kicks back in and you have to stop yourself from allowing him to take too much from you. You give his shoulder a soft squeeze, and when there's no response from him you are forced to find your voice.
"Hey…" You mumble, tightening your grip on his shoulder. "Astarion..?"
He does nothing except press himself closer to you, savouring every last drop he could get. Black spots begin to fill your vision and with what little strength you had in you, you smack your arm down into his side to get him to stop.
He pulls away from your neck at the impact, blood smeared across his lips and his pupils dilated - you can hardly see the red anymore. Would it be odd to say that he looked so very handsome like this?
"Shit," he says breathlessly, "might have over indulged there. Sorry."
You give him a weak laugh, feeling your head spin at the sudden blood loss. "S'alright. Just glad you didn't kill me."
His eyes glance back at your neck as you speak, and when he leans you worry that he was going in for round two. You are taken aback when he licks across the area he had just bitten. If you weren't so dizzy you would have questioned him as he sits back, still straddling your waist.
"I'm not about to waste perfectly good blood," he says, noticing the confusion on your face. "Are you alright, though? You look a little pale."
You give him a thumbs up, still laying down. "All good. Missing some blood, that's all."
He nods, watching as you close your eyes again. You could quite easily drift off to sleep right now, the dizziness and the general feeling of not being right only adding to the need to rest. When you don't feel Astarion move off of you, you open one of your eyes to make sure he was okay.
"Are you alright?" you ask, catching him deep in thought.
"Oh, yes, I'm great. Wonderful. Absolutely perfect," he replies too quickly for it to be truthful. You frown, sitting up slowly to be at eye level with him.
"Is there more blood there still?" you ask him, watching as his eyes keep going back to your neck. "If there is, you should get it."
His touch is so soft you cannot discern if he was cleaning up some blood on your neck or if it is a kiss. When it happens again you realise he isn't cleaning up your neck but kissing over the spot he had just bitten. It is a strange feeling and one you didn't expect to feel after being drained from your blood, but as he moves along your neck leaving faint kisses in his trail you wonder if perhaps he had similar feelings towards you as you did him. You have always been happy to push those feelings down, keeping your focus on the main goal at hand. But here, trapped in a cave with no one to bug you to keep on track, maybe you could indulge yourself this once.
Astarion pulls back from your neck to look at you, his lips are still tinted a softer red from your blood and you find yourself staring at them for a little too long. Gently, you place your hand back on his cheek, smiling when he leans into the touch again. His hand moves to cover yours and you are still in shock at how soft his movements are.
The gap between you both closes slowly and you are aware of what this would lead to. Playful remarks and comments about hooking up were one thing, but this was not playing out like how you imagined it would. You didn't picture yourself being stuck in a cave with him, for starters. You want to ask him if this was okay, if this was even allowed.
You opened your mouth to speak and are suddenly caught off guard by the sound of more rocks falling elsewhere, echoing through the cave. The sudden sound causes you to flinch as you both turn to look in the direction it came from, further along the tunnel. At least it wasn't the way you came, you thought.
Astarion looks back at you after a moment and clears his throat, sitting back to put some distance between you both.
"You should get some rest. I'll, uh, keep watch in case the others turn up," he says quickly, climbing off of your lap in a clumsy manner. You can't help but feel slightly sad at the loss of his touch, but sleep was begging for you to join it.
"Wake me if anything happens," you tell him as you lay back down, already closing your eyes. You don't hear his response as sleep greets you with open arms.
Sounds of your name being called over and over again wakes you up from your slumber. Your head hurts and you feel as if you've been fighting fifty different battles and didn't win one of them. There was a pressure on your chest and as you come to you are met with a mess of white hair laying on you, Astarion's arms wrapped tightly around your midriff. You smile softly at the scene, hand moving to brush through his hair slowly. He hums in response but the moment is broken by your names being called again.
"Are you both still alive?" It's Wyll, you note, which only means he and Karlach had either gotten lost and returned back or they had Gale with them.
"We're still here!" you call back, still groggy from sleep. "Is Gale with you?"
Gale's voice is heard next and you have never been so happy to hear him speak. "The one and only!"
"Thank the Gods. Gale, I promise you that I will buy you whatever you want when we get to Baldur's Gate, just please tell me you have a way to get us out of here," you say, hoping that he had good news with him.
Astarion stirs from all the loud conversation, pressing himself closer to you in an attempt to drown out the noise. You move your hand from his head as you try to sit yourself up. It doesn't work.
Gale continues speaking. "I have a way to get you both out, don't you worry. I will need to ask you both to stand as far back as possible. I mean it. Far. Back."
You give Astarion a shake of his shoulder, trying to wake him. "Hey. Get up. We're almost out of here."
"This is not a good time to wake me up," he grumbles, swatting your hand away with a groan. "Too early."
"Gale is literally on the other side ready to blow this wall of rocks up. Wake up." You continue to shake him awake, ignoring the groans of protest.
He turns to look up at you with pleading eyes. "He can wait five more minutes. Please?"
You want to say yes, to give in and allow himself a moment of comfort. But your back hurts from laying on rock for hours and you want nothing more than to sit in your own tent and get some fresh air. You sit up quickly, causing Astarion to lose his place on your chest and sit up with you.
"I cannot believe this betrayal," he exclaims dramatically, giving you a half-asleep but playful glare. "Being this pretty doesn't come easy, you know. I need my sleep."
"You don't even sleep," you mumble, ignoring how your head sways as you push yourself up to your feet. "And you're pretty enough already." You blame the aches and pains for that last comment, though it doesn't seem to go past Astarion as quickly as you wish it did.
He grins. "You think I'm pretty?"
"Shut up and move your things. I want to get back to camp." You begin to pack away your belongings, shoving things back into your pack and waiting for Astarion to do the same. He picks up your cloak and gives it a quick brush off before putting it on himself. You're too busy putting distance between yourself and the rocks to even notice this. He slides up next to you after a moment, arm wrapping around your shoulder with a grin.
"Okay, I think you're good to go!" you yell, hoping Gale can hear you through the wall. You get confirmation almost immediately afterwards.
You feel Astarion lean towards you as you wait. "I think we should get trapped together more often. Who knows what else it could lead to?"
"More puncture holes in my neck, probably," you mumble in response. He laughs, his lips meeting your neck again just under the place where he drank from you hours ago.
"But you're so delectable," he whispers and you glare at him. The blush rising on your cheeks tells him you aren't mad.
With an almighty crash of thunder, the rocks that made up the wall you have been trapped behind suddenly disperse, the larger ones shattering and the smaller ones turning into dust. You cover your face at the impact and when your ears stop ringing you turn to see Gale, Wyll and Karlach on the other side.
Karlach immediately runs over, arms outstretched and embracing both you and Astarion without thinking.
"I'm so glad you both aren't dead. I have no idea how I'd break the news to Scratch and the Cub! Or everyone else, I suppose," she says once she lets go of you both, your clothes slightly singed by the warmth emanating from her.
"Did you find the treasure?" Gale asks when the three of you walk back to him and Wyll and is only slightly disappointed when you shake your head no. "Ah, well, nothing lost then! I'm sure there's plenty of other treasure to be found. Hopefully not in caves, though. Might I suggest avoiding them in the future?"
"Suggestion taken. I miss sunlight," you reply, feeling Astarion's hand move from your shoulder to the small of your back.
"We had fun though, didn't we? A cave-in can certainly bring people closer together. Right, my dear?" Astarion grins, giving you a wink.
"As much as we all would love to know what that's insinuating, we really should get out of here before there's another freak accident," Wyll suggests, gesturing to the way out.
You nod, wanting nothing more than to breathe fresh air and be away from cramped spaces.
The journey out of the cave is long and feels longer due to the woozy feeling of having a little less blood than you started the journey with. You find yourself leaning on Astarion for support every now and then and he is more than happy to wrap an arm around you to keep you up. The two of you are at the back of the group; you didn't want your slow pace slowing everyone else down.
"I never thanked you earlier," Astarion says quietly to you, a look of sincerity on his face.
"Oh, it's no problem," you reply, nudging him with your elbow. "Just don't almost kill me next time."
"Next time?" He raises an eyebrow with a grin. "You'll allow me to go for seconds?"
"As long as you treat me as nicely as you did afterwards, I may consider it." Thinking about the almost kiss that happened after makes you blush and Astarion shrugs casually, though you can spot the faintest hint of pink spreading across his cheeks.
"Maybe. We can always do that without the biting part," he suggests. "Only if you want."
"I'd like that." You give him a smile, leaning over to press a kiss onto his cheek. "Only if you want, too."
The first sign of daylight causes you to pull away from him before he can respond as you rush over to the opening of the cave with Karlach, thankful to get fresh air again.
Astarion watches you go, listening to you cheering and praising Gods you didn't believe in. How quickly his plans could crumble. How quickly you made him feel accepted. There was a knot present in his stomach that was slowly untangling itself the more he thought about intimacy with you. Perhaps, one day, he would want that with you.
#astarion x reader#astarion x tav#bg3#baldur's gate 3#astarion x gender neutral reader#; tealeaf's writing
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Realizations
Dad!Simon Ghost Riley x Wife!Reader
Thank you guys so much for 1k, it means the whole world for me because now once did I expect to ever have my page grown this big and not once had I imagined that I would make these many friends here who happened to be so sweet. Also to @connorsui who has been most definitely been waiting the answer to this.
So in honor of 1k, I wrote this long awaited backstory for Ghost and Lovie (Ghostie's parents) that I hope you guys will enjoy since it so happens that our beloved @ave661 has posted another Dad!Ghost render. (Credits to her again for the renders in this post <3) (Sweetie, I love you but that tag on Soap with this render was unnecessary 😭🫶)
To the people who congratulated me, through replies, likes and reblogs, I owe y'all a fat kiss. Mwahhh <333
My CoD Masterlist
Taglist: @wishesforyou @puff0o0 @simp4konig @blingblong55 @azereus @rustic-guitar-notes @shadofireshinobi @09maruchan @anonymuslydumb @skeletalgoats @icarustypicalfall @ghosts-cyphera @cutenote @connorsui @capuccino192 @thesnowurzikdjinn @miss-gms-and-the-rotten-womb @celestialhole @trepaika @starryylies @demidemon09
Warnings/Disclaimers: Stalking (not by Simon), Typical mentions of CoD violence?, Mentions of Simon's past abuse, Creepy guy?? (Not Simon), Mentions of violent and a bit gory descriptions on what wanted to do to the stalker, This is not proofread yet.
With the words of my mother and in true reputation style, Are you ready for it?
I think I need to say this on my account again, English is NOT my first language and all copyrights regarding the plot and some characters within the storyline belong to me. Edit: please help me y'all, I'm losing so much relevance in the span of less than a month, my recent works have gotten nothing and I'm scared that this post proves that. I think I've learned my lesson never to take breaks ever again 😭
Simon never imagined himself in this predicament, always thinking that he'd be out there somewhere, more likely drowning himself in a mission. Not even a home, he thought that if it hadn't for your persuasiveness to interact with him back then then he'd still be back in that shitty apartment complex.
Simon placed his duffle bag on the wood of the porch, the jingling of his keys while he looked for the correct one. He tried his best to make as little noise as possible, it was passed midnight, the last thing he would want was to disturb his wife and daughter from resting.
Hauling the duffle bag in and throwing it on the couch, Simon opt to see what his girls were up to. The giggling and commotion making him smile, you both were supposed to be asleep by now but you were unable to put her to rest because she's just too hyper, so that left you to entertain her by tossing her up and catching her.
"Dada..!" A squeal from the room came, the little one snapping her head to the opening of the door making you look as well, Simon took a peek from the half-way opened door.
Adorable little thing clapping her hands together, pleased that her dad is home while sitting on her mom. She got off, crawling near the edge of the bed with no sense of danger, fortunate for her that her dad is quick with catching her before you could.
You took a deep breath from the shock, looking at your husband and smiling sweetly at him. He asked you not to get off the bed as you were about to, laying next to you he snakes his arm underneath you on your waist and pulls you in.
"I missed my girls.." He said, voice deep and laced with exhaustion, despite that his hold and gaze was the warmest it could be.
"We missed you too Si, so much." You mumbled as your eyes flutter shut to enjoy his touch. You opened them to the sound of a kiss, he kissed the little one's forehead then yours.
Sometimes you vaguely remember the first time he and you met, how it even came to be, this life of domesticity. You, him and your little girl, family is a heavy word for Simon but it was just perfect. This was the family he wanted, the family that he thought he didn't deserve and never would have.
The feeling of coming home to all this started because you were so forgetful, who knew that would be the skill that brought you to him..?
• ──── ✦ ──── •
He emptied his pockets, to the lieutenant's dismay, the box of cigarettes only had one stick left. Since he was going out to smoke it anyway, he might as well get another box from the convenience store nearby. He took his keys from the kitchen counter and headed out, hearing a little commotion that peeked his interest.
Simon never paid much mind to whatever was going on within his apartment building despite the many gossips that were present within the building and the renters. So it happens that the old lady next to his place mentions how they'll be a new tenant in the other apartment next to his.
'Thank God' Simon thought, not that he was particularly religious but he'd been hoping for the longest time for the former renter to leave because let's be honest, who wants to live next to a frat boy with no sense of shame or consideration given that walls are thin? Little did he know he'd be blessed with the next one..
"Oh- I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to.." Simon hears a voice from a little below him, he'd only register what had happened after the fact. Poor girl carrying this box bumped into him a little too hard, so much so that she stumbled back a bit.
You stared up to the 6'4 man blinking, he only shrugged it off to which you smiled to. You tried to make small talk since you were new and it wouldn't hurt to at least know one person right? After all, you were trying to step out a bit of your comfort zone.
"Hi.. I'm [Name].." He only stared at you for a while and replied, "Simon.." you gave him a warm smile before nodding and continuing to bring the boxes into your new apartment while your new neighbor entered the elevator.
You cut the boxes open to start unpacking, a few minutes in and you decided to go on a short break, you rummaged through the small box of food only to find that the recently bought box of tea was empty. You sighed at this, humming as you remembered the convenience store you passed by earlier on the way to the apartment.
Taking your keys and locking the door behind you, you made your way out the complex and walked a few blocks, you only started to notice how late it was with the streetlights coming on even though the sun is only about to set. That's something to get used to, hmm?
The cool breeze hits your skin as you enter, scent of faint instant coffee and many other kinds of foods and products made themselves known. You walked around for a while, checking on what other things you might need but then you tried to remind yourself that you were saving up and on a budget so you took a box of tea and walked up to the register.
You heard footsteps behind you falling in line, after placing the box on the counter, you searched your pockets for your wallet.
'Shit..!' you cursed yourself out mentally trying not to panic as Simon basically watches you frantically patting your pockets, you left your wallet back at the apartment. "You left your wallet-" Simon stated the obvious, "I'll cover it.." there wasn't even a time to argue with him, he just stepped next to you and placed the pack of cigarettes.
"I'll pay you back as soon as we get back to the apartment" You insisted to which Simon only shrugged and declined, it's just a box of tea and it's not like it'll make him go bankrupt, besides he liked your taste, the one you got happened to be his favorite brand.
Since you were headed in the same place anyway, you and Simon walked back together side by side, however one thing you did find odd was when he gently took you wrist and pulled you inward next to him, he was the one now closest to the road.
The walk back was silent, a comfortable silence. A few days after that encounter, you made sure to make an effort for him to know that you appreciated his gesture back at the convenience store. The lieutenant was alarmed by the knock on his door, opening it to find no person but a tupperware filled with buttery shortbread cookies.
He smiled at how tiny the plastic container looked in his hands, how he noticed the note attached "Thanks for the tea, this isn't that special but I hope you like it -[Name]" and the Sanrio themed stickers stuck onto the lid and on the top part of the tiny note. You ran out of sticky notes..
Simon found himself snacking on those cookies later on, oddly enough, they reminded him of his mom.. how she used to love baking back then, it was her way of escape whenever Simon's "father" wasn't home, as well as gardening.
For the first time in a while Simon "Ghost" Riley let out a smile that wasn't smug or a smirk but a genuine smile, one that had warmth to it, one that no matter how hard his mind tried to surppress it, his body refused to.
It didn't take long for you and Simon to get to know each other a bit, little by little it seemed like you two were becoming like friends rather than just neighbors. Let's be honest, who just randomly gives their neighbors weekly baked goods for the sole reason of "just because they wanted to"?
You found yourself always looking forward to the Friday nights chilling with him at the rooftop, mugs with hot tea on hand while he smoked and you read.
Listening to his stupid jokes and remarks that slowly turn into deep conversations and life things. Simon was just... far more open than he's ever been, sure he's talked about his day before to his comrades but never like this, not in a way where he's pouring his heart out, letting you in on how he feels about certain things.
He just got back from a mission, a rough one to be exact. Shoulders slumped from exhaustion as he walked the streets near the apartment complex, no space for his bike so he had to leave it somewhere private while he fidgeted with it's keys.
Simon swore that he almost jumped out of his own body, first instinct being to push you off but he recognized you. He gave you a questioning look, hands were shaking as you so desperately linked you arm around his.
"Hmm?" He hummed, hearing you mumbling something but it was incoherent to his ears.
"Behind us.. please Si, help..." Come to think if it, you never knew when Simon turned into Si. Best believe he knew and still remembers when perfectly.. not the time, there's a serious threat, he didn't look. He didn't need to, guessing by the heavy footsteps, some creep decided to follow you at this hour.
He slowly slipped his arm away from your grip and snaked it around your waist, pulling you in closer to his side while the two of you continued treading closer to the complex. You closed your eyes for a few seconds at a time hoping it would end.
• ──── ✦ A few days later ✦ ──── •
Knocking, frantic knocking was what Simon heard at his door. He wasn't expecting anyone, so why the sudden visit? He opened the door and saw you, Simon knew something was off from the look on your face, you looked pale as if you were sick to your stomach while trying so desperately to catch your breath.
"Can I please come in.. Simon..?" You asked in between breaths. You looked around you, especially behind you, body shivering a bit. He took notice of this and had no hesitation, he pulled you in by your arm. His grip firm but gentle, Simon closed the door behind him.
"Remember that guy who was creeping around when I asked for your help..?" You tried to explain but Simon already knew the moment your mouth opened. You had a stalker.. it was best to call the cops on shit like this.
Simon did his best even though not knowing much about how to comfort someone, he did well in making you feel safe without having to tell you that he'll do so, you just know it in your gut that he'd protect you even if it's just now.
Your breath picked up, slowly backing away from the door as you heard footsteps, clenching your fists and hoping that he didn't see you enter Simon's door. Simon wrapped his arms around you, keeping you in place and from further backing away from the door.
You felt his palm drag up and down your back, it was extremely warm, it stopped for a while. His arm wrapped around your waist, other hand in your hair pushing your head down a bit so it was buried in his chest while you gripped his shirt. Simon felt your trembling body against him slowly relax.
"Deep breaths, angel.." The nickname he whispered would've made you smile under any other circumstance but not right now, you needed to calm your nerves before you panic and make an impulsive decision that could hurt yourself. Like instructed, you followed along Simon's demonstration, pressing his forehead onto yours maybe just a bit too intimately.
You winced at the loud sound of banging on the door, you knew it too well. Simon shoved the handle of his combat knife in your hand, he told you that if anything were to happen, protect yourself with it.
As soon as the Lieutenant swung the door open, you could hear punches, things knocking over and among other things, your stalker's voice.
You'd never forget that, how pitchy it was. Nails on the chalkboard was the best way to describe it, how the man was cackling almost made you annoyed. Simon called on security and the man was dealt with, you came out from hiding and saw both fear and anger in Simon's eyes.
You would never know how much he wanted to tear that man's heart after skinning him alive for even bringing fear into your eyes.
Simon "I care too much for someone I just met" Riley finally saw how his knuckles and fingernails were caked with blood, went off to go wash it and himself.
Getting back to you after half an hour, you reached out for him only for him to withdraw, you looked at him confused and he looks at you with pure guilt..
Your eyes widened in realization, "Oh Simon.. I'm not scared.." you smiled at him. He reached out a shaky hand to you, hesitating before closing his hand back.
You took his hand in yours, bringing it up to your lips and giving it a small kiss, hoping it calms his nerves. Well it did the opposite, it even more overwhelming for him having you kiss his palm while you look up at him, watching you nudge your face into his palm so invitingly.
The way your lashes just sat perfectly atop your cheeks while you slowly blinked up at him. Pressing the same scarred and calloused hands that almost killed a man that night on your face and rubbing the back with you thumb.
Simon had never felt that much guilt before for hurting someone, only after he saw the look in your eyes, which in turn were not something he caused. For the first time in his life too, Simon was comforted by something or rather someone immensely..
#cod x reader#aethelwyne lia writes#ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#cod headcanons#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x you#simon ghost x reader#simon ghost riley#simon riley#simon riley x you#ghost drabble#ghost x plus size reader#ghost x female reader#ghost x y/n#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost x you#simon ghost#simon riley x plus size reader#dad!ghost#dad!simon
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pervy neighbor!toji headcanons !
toji sets his sights on you and just can't look away!
✎ tags: mdni!, smut, female reader, maybe tw for stepcest (toji dates your mom)?, age gap (reader is college age, toji is probably late-30's), kind of dubious consent, infidelity, loss of virginity, unsafe sex, kind of obsessive!toji, pet names, breeding kink, corruption kink, dacryphilia, reader definitely has daddy issues (but no daddy kink)
✎ word count: 5k words (might have gotten a little carried away. but it's proofread!)
✎ author's note: something about jjk characters makes me have the worst, filthiest thoughts i've ever had, but i'm not upset about it. also genuinely surprised that this turned out to be 5k words i thought it would be like 2k max ( 〃▽〃) . . . toji brings out the best and worst in me <3
masterlist | requests
♡ when toji first lays eyes on you, it's sick how fast he starts thinking dirty thoughts. your mother and you are his new neighbors, coming over to say "hi" and introduce yourselves. your mother looked to be around his age, while you looked like you were probably in college (she must have had you when she was young like he had with megumi), but the way you half-hid yourself behind your mom wasn't helping you look any older.
♡ your mom makes you introduce yourself to him and you do so shyly, calling him "mr. zenin", barely making eye contact with the man that was a full head and a half taller than you. he smiles down at you and sticks out his hand, and after a moment you shakily take it, his engulfing yours completely. he could easily pin down both your hands with one of his. hell, he could pin down your whole body with one of his hands. he lingers a little too long, and you retreat a little further behind your mom after he lets go, your face an adorable shade of red.
♡ toji only half-listens to your mother rambling on, mostly just staring at you and being grateful that his shirt was long enough to cover his boner. he tuned in when she talked about how you went to college but still lived with her because it wasn't far. he also listened to when your mother mentioned her job took her across the country or even out of it a lot of the time. oh, so many thoughts were already forming in his head. toji could get quite creative when he wanted to.
♡ he can tell your mom is attracted to him when she juts out her chest and mentions her deadbeat ex-husband more than once. so he exchanges numbers with her and flirts a little. he's a single man, what else is he to do?
♡ toji figures out that, by the grace of god it seems, your bedroom is the one with the window directly across from his, and you don't seem to realize that your pink lace curtains are see-through. it really just kept getting better for him, didn't it? he absolutely watches your silhouette of you changing, watching your little figure take your shirt and shorts off, imagining he was in the room with you. if he were there, he wouldn't have to watch you put on other clothes. he would take off your clothes for you, probably rip them a little too (on accident, of course). he would make sure you didn't put anything on for a good long time, except maybe some cute lingerie. or a collar.
♡ he takes the time to work up to dating your mom. toji's a patient man, he can wait to get his hands on you. distance makes the heart grow fonder, right? and the better he gets to know your mother, the better he gets to know you, too. oh, she raves about you, of course! a model student and such a good girl, never getting into any trouble, always focusing on your schoolwork. you graduated top of your class in high school, and were on track to do the same in college. her baby was basically a genius! toji's heart swelled to hear about just how much of a good girl you were.
♡ it's not long before he's at your dinner table with your mother and you and a wonderful home-cooked meal. the woman that he's supposed to be looking at luckily talks enough that she doesn't realize toji is staring at you the whole time. you practically squirm in your chair under his gaze, hardly saying a word unless you were spoken to. he asks you normal questions, like how's school going, oh you're in your last year? any plans after college? he loves hearing your meek voice stutter out your answers. your mom has to tell you to speak up and you get that cute redness in your cheeks again, raising your voice just the slightest bit. you still called him "mr. zenin", so he tells you to just call him toji. you nod, but you don't actually say his name after that.
♡ at the end of the meal, he of course insists on cleaning up himself, and he's in the kitchen with a grin when he hears your mother telling you to help him clean up. you mumble something he can't hear, and your mom responds with "he is not scary, now go help him!" and he laughs a little. he'll make sure you aren't scared of him for long.
♡ you shuffle in with a few more dirty dishes and place them next to the sink, then look around for something to do before awkwardly picking up a rag and starting to dry what he had already washed. after a little bit of silence, toji strikes up some friendly conversation. "so, are you really liking college? your mom has been telling me all about how well you're doing. she's always talking about how much of a good girl you are," he says. the way your face once again got red was something toji needed to see more often. you seem to stop dead in your tracks and malfunction a bit when he calls you a "good girl", and you stutter something like "uh, yeah, it's- it's been good. she... actually said all that?" he wants to feel how you'll clench around him when he calls you a good girl as you take his thick cock. "yeah, she did," he says with a chuckle. "what? does she not say it to you a lot?" you shake your head no. poor baby, no one was telling you how great of a job you were doing. toji will, though. he'll praise you all night long when you manage to fit all of him inside you.
♡ he starts coming over more after that. he notices that (when asked first) you start telling him more about your achievements in college, like when you ace an exam or your professors write good feedback on your essays. and of course, he's always there to tell you what a great job you did; sometimes he adds in the words "good girl", just for fun. he even starts getting little smiles out of you, tiny at first, but they started spreading to your pretty eyes not too long after. you even start calling him "toji", finally. his name sounds so good coming out of your mouth, he wants to hear you say it while he's got his head shoved between your squishy thighs.
♡ it takes months, months of toji jerking himself off to every filthy thought imaginable about you, months of getting you to warm up to him, months of convincing your mother that he really was into her. it all pays off when the worst storm of the season rolls in. it's around 10pm when your mom calls him from halfway across the country, worried about you because she heard about the storm. apparently, you'll "freak out" if the power goes out. you get paranoid easily, she says. toji tells her not to worry, he'll check on you. he grabs his keys and coat and is knocking on your door within two minutes, albeit drenched in rain water. he sees you peak around the curtain of the window next to the door before you open it, asking him what he was doing here. "your mom asked me to check on you. says you scare easy." she was absolutely right, but you still huffed indignantly.
♡ you let him in, of course, and ask him if he wants a change of clothes. you say your mom probably has some of her ex's old clothes lying around that might fit him. he says sure and asks if he could shower, too. you stutter out a "yeah" and lead him to the bathroom, showing him where the towels and soaps were, accidentally brushing against him in the tight space. he can feel how intense your heartbeat is, just for a second. it makes toji want to smooth his hands all over your body, dig into the knots in your back and make it slow before he raises it even higher. you scurry off to your moms room to find a change of clothes for him.
♡ it takes you awhile to dig out something that might fit him, a black t-shirt and gray sweatpants. it takes you so long, in fact, that he's out of the shower with just a towel wrapped around his waist, opening the door just when you're about to leave the clothes on the floor. he thinks your nose might actually start bleeding when you see him shirtless, and it's the cutest thing he's ever seen. part of him thinks it would be funny to just drop the towel, but you scare easy. you hand him the clothes and speed-walk to the living room before he can thank you.
♡ toji gets changed into the t-shirt that clings to his skin and the sweatpants that are loose but will definitely show the imprint of his dick as soon he sits down. luckily, your couch has pillows. he finds you in the living room, your legs curled up to your chest as you look through netflix for something to watch. he plops down right beside you, making sure to grab a pillow for his lap, putting a foot up on the coffee table. you ask him if he's staying, and he says of course, what if the power goes out? do you know how to use the circuit breaker? you say you sort of do. he clicks his tongue and declares he's staying. you just hand him the tv remote and tell him to choose something to watch. you always let him take the lead with everything.
♡ it takes a lot of back and forth of him teasing you for never knowing what to watch and you just repeating "just put on whatever you want!", and when you finally do decide on something, the power goes out. you let out a squeak and instinctively press yourself closer to him, but he's wrapping an arm around you and saying softly that it's alright, it'll come back on soon. he can see your worried expression from the streetlights shining in faintly, and he reaches up to lightly pinch your cheek, muttering that you're so cute like this.
♡ "you think- you think 'm cute?" you ask quietly, and he nods with a smirk. "mhm, think you're adorable. such a pretty girl," he says, leaning in just a little closer. his large hand that takes up half your face is in your hair now, tangling his fingers in it and playing with it a little. you're so warm, heating up the more he touched you. his other hand rubs your back, slowly going lower, inch by inch. he can see his touch having an effect on you, a very, very positive one. your breathing gets a little bit quicker. he can feel your heartbeat through your back.
♡ "think you're the prettiest girl i've ever seen." the hand on your back is coming back up, to your shoulder and grazing past your neck to cup the side of your jaw and stroke his thumb over your soft cheek. "do you not think you're pretty, baby?" you definitely notice the pet name, but you don't say anything about it, just look down and shake your head a little. "oh, princess, can't have that now." he guides your head back up to make you look at him again with wide eyes. "i can show you. you're gonna let me show you how pretty you are, right baby?"
♡ you give a tiny nod and he kisses you, and god, toji is in love with your lips. they're so soft and sweet, and he can't help but move a hand to the back of your neck to pull you in deeper, greedily swallowing the little noises you made. he finds it cute how you struggle to keep up with him, how a whimper escapes you when one of his overly-sharp canines catches your lip. he wants to mark you all over with them, claim every part of your body as his, listen to you yelp when he sinks them in almost too deep.
♡ toji draws away and laughs when you try to follow him, taking in your dazed look, red lips shiny with his and your spit and blown pupils. "aw, sweet girl, you already look so fucked out. haven't even done anything to you yet," he mumbles as he starts kissing down your jaw and around your neck. the pillow is gone and he's picking you up effortlessly to put you on his lap, facing him. he's obsessed with how small you are compared to him. you're trying so hard to hold back more noises, and your hands go to his broad shoulders, as if you were going to push him away (not that it would do anything, he's got an arm wrapped around your back now). but you don't, you just gasp out a whiny "what about my mom and you?" and he draws back a little to look you in the eye, lips hovering just over yours again. "'m just showin' you how pretty you are, baby. she doesn't appreciate you enough, does she? i can, so much better, princess. we can keep it secret, right?" he says, his voice low and rumbling and you look hypnotized.
♡ you nodded a little with an "mhm" and he smiles, kissing you again. he takes his time with you, as agonizing as it is, but he needs to work you open. your mom was going to be gone for another few days still, and he had already waited this long. when he pulled away again he went straight to kissing down the other side of your neck, using his hand still in your hair to move your baggy shirt to expose more skin. he uses the other one around your waist to press you into him a little more and down enough to feel his hard dick through your shorts and his pants. it forces a little gasp out of you and your grip on his shoulders tightens, balling his shirt. "toji, i've never- haven't done this before," you mumble. he knows, of course, he knew it from the start, could practically smell it on you.
♡ "'s okay, princess, i'll go slow. i'll be so gentle with you, promise," he mumbles into your skin, his hands all over your body, in your hair and on your back and your arms and under your breasts, over your stomach. it's almost overwhelming to you. his hands end up grabbing you under your thighs, just below your ass, and you let out a yelp and wrapped your arms around his neck tight when he stands up with you. "c'mon, baby, can't show you how pretty you are in here." he brings you to your room, glad to see there's a little bit of streetlight coming in too here. he sits down on the edge of your cushy bed with you still in his lap, lathering your collarbone with attention.
♡ his hands are rubbing your hips, edging underneath your shirt and pressing you down more and more against his aching cock. "feel how hard you get me, sweet girl? 's cause you're so damn cute," he breathes, and he's so happy when you start shakily grinding down against him, your legs spread so wide by his. he's been waiting for this for so fucking long, and now he's finally in your room, finally inching your shirt over your head for you. toji's scar stretches with his smile when he sees you aren't wearing a bra, and he catches the arm that tries to cover yourself up. "mm-mm, princess, gotta see all of ya." he puts your hand back on his shoulder and uses his to grope the tit he's not sucking and nipping and licking at. your body twitches and a dainty hand goes to his hair, and you're finally moaning for him, whimpering his name when he tugs a little too hard with his teeth.
♡ the power comes back on on it's own just as your nipples are starting to get sore, your fairy lights taped around the edge of the ceiling lighting the room up with a soft glow. toji detaches himself from you and smiles. "can finally fuckin' see ya again, 'bout time," he mumbles, going right back to what he was just doing. you whine and your grip on his hair and shoulder get a little bit tighter, but his hands don't let you move in any direction except closer to him. he keeps going, too busy thinking about how gorgeous your tits will look when they're swollen with milk, how sweet they already are and how much sweeter they will be, until you tug on his hair a little and say his name between sharp breaths. he finally lets up and his hands go to your waist and hips.
♡ he helps guide you while you grind down on him, just taking in how you close your eyes and let out sweet little gasps whenever he bumps your clit through your shorts and underwear. "gonna let me take these off of ya, sweet girl?" he murmurs, his hands massaging your thighs and ass, waiting impatiently for you to nod again before he picks you up again and lays you down on your bed. he's just glad it's a queen size; enough space for him to fuck you most ways he wants.
♡ he follows your shorts and underwear down your legs with his mouth, committing all your embarrassed squeaks to memory. you try to close your legs once he has everything off but of course he doesn't let you. toji's smile doesn't leave his face while he's taking your thighs in his hands to spread them apart, leaving one to smooth a hand over your belly. "prettiest girl i've ever fuckin' seen," he says again, watching his hand go to spread your little pussy apart. his thumb grazes your clit and your hips jerk and he laughs. "so damn sensitive. never had anyone down here, baby, not even to eat this pretty pussy out?" you can't even look at him when you shake your head. if it's possible, his dick gets even harder. "good. dumbass frat boys couldn't ever do it like i can."
♡ once toji finally gets his mouth on your soaked cunt he doesn't think he's capable of stopping. you're practically dripping onto the bed, and he's there to lick every drop up, swallowing it happily and coaxing as much more as he can out of you with his tongue. your body is already writhing, you already have your hands in his hair, you're already crying out for him, and he's in a state of euphoria.
♡ he stops for a moment and you're about to ask what's wrong before he's muttering about how the bed is "too damn short" and you're being dragged down to the edge. your noise of surprise turns into a gasp when he starts sucking on your clit again, now kneeling on the floor. toji throws your legs over his shoulders and holds down the top of one to keep you in place, his other hand coming back to your pussy. his middle finger is slowly sinking into you and he moans into you when he feels how tight you are; his hand is never going to be enough to get himself off after this. when he starts working in a second finger you cum; you can feel it everywhere in you, taking over your body and your head (you think you may get addicted to this, to toji doing this to you).
♡ of course, toji doesn't stop after you've cum once. he gives you a little break, despite being so close to breaking himself. he's so close to letting himself loose on you, so close to digging his fingers in just bit too hard and sinking his teeth in too deep. somehow, he manages to just rub your hips and nip at your inner thighs. you mewl out his name and try to pull him back up to you but he doesn't budge, instead laughing and shaking his head. "not yet, princess, you're still way too tight." he pushes two fingers back in, his mouth hovering back over your clit. "wouldn't want to rip you in half, would we?" you stopped listening the second he started back up on your still-sensitive clit, throwing your head back and grabbing his hair again. "ah-h, toji, wait-!" he wasn't listening either.
♡ he doesn't let up until he makes you cum with three fingers (twice) and you're nearly crying from overstimulation. the only words you seem to be able to form at this point are "toji" and "please", and toji thinks this is his new favorite version of you. eventually, when he runs out of patience and he deems that it won't hurt that much, he finally lets you come down from the high he'd kept you on. he leaves one more mark on your thigh before he stands up to strip himself down quick, releasing a breath of relief when his aching cock is finally freed.
♡ it takes a moment for toji to decide how to take you. in all the months he waited and thought about this, he never could decide on this part. he would have you ride him, if your legs weren't still shaking. he decided to just say "fuck it" and go with missionary; easier to see your cute expressions like that. toji moves you back up the bed and climbs over you, smiling and cooing down at your watery eyes and his favorite shade of red painting your skin. he wraps your legs around your waist and brings his hands to cup your face again.
♡ "aw, what's wrong, baby? you were beggin' me for somethin' just a minute ago, what was it? hm, princess? c'mon, use your words." you mumble out a little "please", and toji shakes his head. "'please' what? you want more, 's that what you're tryin' to say? c'mon baby, tell me you want more," he says, one of his huge hands grabbing your jaw, putting the lightest amount of pressure on it. your eyes widen a bit and you nod, squeaking out a "more, toji, please!" and his cheeks start to hurt from how wide his smile grows.
♡ he took a moment to appreciate the view of his dick resting heavy on your stomach, a before-shot of how deep he'll reach inside of you. his head came to just below your belly button; toji could have came just from that. he notices you're still just looking at him and he takes one of your hands and wraps it around his cock for you, and you finally look down at it. he wishes he could take a picture of your face, it's both hilarious and incredibly cute. "toji, 's not- not gonna fit," you mumble as he moves your hand up and down it. he laughs a little. "we'll make it fit, princess, don't worry." he's gathering both your hands now in one of his and pinning them over your head. "it'll only hurt for a minute, then it'll feel so good, baby, i promise. not gonna want me to ever stop." toji rubs his dick through the folds of your pussy, covering it in your own arousal, his head brushing your clit and making you whine. "all ya gotta do is lay here all pretty and take it for me, you can do that, right baby? i know you can, bein' such a good girl for me." you're melting and practically dripping from his words and he lines his head up to start pushing into you.
♡ your hands squeeze his just about as tight as your tiny pussy does around the head of his cock once it pops in. toji kisses you and moans while you gasp, and he pushes in a little more, and you already feel like this would be enough. he's so thick; his fingers had felt so big to you, but now that just made you feel dumb. he draws back an inch just to push in two more and your legs are tightening around his waist. you're making cute little noises while he pushes your jaw up to mark more of your neck. he's everywhere, surrounding your entire body with his, not giving you an inch to move. you feel him everywhere, inside and out, and he's so deep inside you, and he still has a couple inches to go.
♡ his hips finally meet your thighs and toji thinks he's found heaven. he was so elated to have you how he wanted you, ecstatic that his months of work had finally paid off. he stops sucking on your neck to come nose-to-nose with you, his hold on your jaw loosening so he could thread his hand through your hair. "ohh, fuck, pretty girl, you're doin' so fuckin' good, bein' such a good girl for me," he breathed with a smile and hooded eyes. "does it hurt, princess? 'm sorry, it'll go away soon, baby, i promise. gonna feel so good in a minute. feels so good around me, so much better that i ever thought- shit, baby," he chokes out a moan when you're squeezing even tighter around him and you whine, trying to move your hips to get him to move.
♡ he starts moving, and he swears he tries to go slow, but it admittedly doesn't take long before he's really fucking you. "takin' it like a fuckin' champ, baby, my god. feels so fuckin' good. never leavin' this pussy, fuckin' never, princess. hah, sweet girl, don't squirm so much, how am i supposed to find all your good spots like that? that's it, baby, just take it for me. such a good fucking girl." his mouth gets filthy and it just doesn't stop running while he fucks any air and any thoughts out of your body. he's too deep, there's too much of him but it's so good that you just don't care. it's so much better than you thought it would be, toji makes it so much better than you thought it would be.
♡ you cum before long and he fucks you through it, holding your jaw to keep eye contact with you the entire time, obsessed with the tears threatening to fall from your wet lashes. he slows down as you come down and you think he's mercifully giving you a break when he pulls out, despite your cry of protest that he wants to make his ringtone. then he's picking you up and standing up with you to sit in front of your floor-length mirror with your back to his chest. "don't ya remember, baby? i gotta show you just how pretty you are," he says in your ear as he digs his hands into your hips and ass tight enough that there will definitely be bruises, but he's lining you up and pushing you down on his cock before you can whine about it. you're clawing at his arms and reaching behind you to grab his hair while he keeps sinking you down, and he watches with a salacious grin.
♡ "see, princess, see how pretty you are? bouncin' up and down on my cock like you were fuckin' made for it, you were, weren't you? fuckin' perfect fit. you look so perfect taking my cock, such a pretty girl. prettiest fuckin' girl i've ever seen. no, no, don't look away baby, watch how good you take my dick inside your tiny little pussy. that's it, princess. this pussy is mine now, right, baby? right? yeah, all mine now. gonna ruin you for any other man on the fuckin' planet."
♡ you came again and toji wasn't far behind you after that, practically using you like a toy at this point. you did your best to cling to him, but the only thing you could do in his hold was to watch and feel his fat cock bullying in and out of your pussy. babbles and moans were all you could manage now, and the only thing that would have made toji happier was if he had his phone in his hands to record it. he'd have plenty of chances later, anyways.
♡ "gonna let me cum in your pretty pussy, baby? aww, hah, too cock drunk to speak, huh? did i fuck you dumb already? mm, like you like this a lot, princess. so sweet for me. i'll fill you up with my cum as a reward, how's that sound? ha! your pussy likes that idea! squeezin' me so damn tight, you like that idea, don't you pretty girl? ohh, just be good and take it, just like that baby."
♡ he slams you down all the way on his cock and wraps his arms around you, grinding up into you hard, and you feel your belly get warm and somehow you feel even more full. you go limp against him, closing your eyes and whimpering with every twitch of his hips. it's just the mix of your heavy breathing for a few moments before toji's sitting back up from curling you both forward, looking in the mirror again.
♡ "aww, c'mon baby, you're letting it all leak out," he says, his voice gravelly and a bit heavier than before. when you don't open your eyes fast enough, his hand is in your hair and pulling it to make you look at where his cum is leaking out of you around his cock. and he's still hard.
♡ "guess i'll just have to fill you up again to make up for it, huh, pretty girl?"
#jujutsu kaisen#toji fushiguro#toji fushiguro x reader#toji fushiguro x female reader#toji fushiguro x you#toji fushiguro smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#tw stepcest#— lilly writes! ♡
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A Small Favor.
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part one!
pairing: mike schmidt x afab!reader
summary: the stress of his new job is taking a toll on mike. he did such a good job helping you out, so you decide to repay the favor.
word count: 2.5k+
warnings: 18+! MDNI! oral sex (m!receiving), vaginal fingering, handjobs, heavy on the praise, munch!mike always.
authors note: the heavily heavily HEAVILY requested part two is finally done. (quite literally wrote this instead of listening to my bio lecture) i still can't believe that fic has gotten so much traction, i hope this one measures up! it got waaaay more angsty near the end than i thought it would hehe also i decided to include everyone commenting under part one requesting part two in the taglist of this fic so you're welcome lol mwah <3
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It had been one week and three days since the couch incident, which is what you’ve lovingly taken to calling whatever happened between you and Mike. One week and three whole days of Mike dancing around you and the elephant in the room.
The morning after the couch incident he practically ran out the door taking Abby to school when you tried to bring it up. The next time you attempted to have “the talk” he stuttered out an excuse before retreating to the safety of his bedroom, so you gave up.
You know that there’s something between Mike and you that crosses the line of just friends, you both felt something change that night, but getting him to face his feelings and actually admit that will take work.
It's another night of sitting on Mike's couch mulling over what to do about the whole situation when you hear the front door open. You're shocked at first, usually you're asleep by the time Mike gets home. Sure enough when you check the clock it reads 6:33 in bulky red characters. Apparently, time flies when you're obsessing over how to get your friend turned complicated-accidental-one-night-stand to admit they have feelings for you.
You try (and fail) not to listen in on every move Mike makes in the kitchen, fighting to keeping your gaze trained on the TV as he makes his way to the living room.
In your eyes peripheral vision you see him begin to make his way to the couch, but he hesitates when his eyes fall on you. He awkwardly hovers between the two rooms for a few seconds until he takes a breath and walks over to the couch.
Mike sits next to you on the couch with a soft grunt. You wrestle with the need to look at him fully, but you can see out of the corner of your eye he's taken off his work boots and vest. His hair is sticking out at weird angles, curls frizzy and unruly. Your hand twitches against your thigh with the want to run your fingers through them.
You can feel your heart beat faster, struggling to sit still in the thick tension surrounding the two of you. You flick your eyes back to the TV in a vain attempt to focus on anything other than Mike.
Eventually, you lose the fight with your screaming inner monologue and chance a sideways glace in his direction. You're beyond surprised to find him already looking at you.
You stare back, a deer caught in headlights. The dim light coming from the TV highlights his eyes. Mike opens his mouth to seemingly break the silence but he stops himself short of actually speaking. You can see him fiddling nervously with the hem of his shirt.
It’s silent for a beat before you decide to speak up.
“Hi.” You say, it's a whisper but you might have well just yelled with how it cuts into the air between the two of you. Mike lets out what might be laugh, it sounds forced. "Hi." He replies stiffly.
"Home later than usual." You point out, fidgeting with your nail. Mike's home a little after 6: everyday, him being home 30 minutes late is odd.
Mike nods, he lets his head fall onto the back of the couch allowing his eyes to slip closed as he does. "Yeah," He replies, the position of his head allows you to get your greedy fill of his sharp jawline. "Jobs been hell."
You don't respond, but you know. Mike's been haggard recently, and not just because of the couch incident. The bags under his eyes have gotten worse, he's been forgetful, not to mention how much more neurotic and paranoid he's been.
Mike has been a wreck these past couple of days, and you want nothing more than to help him feel good. If not for just a few minutes.
You take a chance, and move to let your hand rest over his jean clad thigh. Mike tenses up immediately but doesn’t move to run or push your hand off.
"I could help you,” You say quietly, forcing yourself to keep eye contact. Mike's wide eyes flit rapidly between your eyes and lips. “Help you relax…” You trail off, voice barely above a whisper.
Your offer hangs heavy in the silence that settles. Mike just stares at you, after a while you start to regret making such a bold move. There’s an apology’s on the tip of your tongue, but when you start taking your hand off Mikes thigh he quickly grabs your wrist.
Your eyes snap back up to meet Mikes. His pupils are blown out, black encompassing warm brown. His tongue comes out to swipe across his bottom lip.
“You can...” Mike says simply, guiding your hand back to his thigh. Only he places it much higher up, high enough that you can feel the rough metal of his zipper brushing against the tip of your pinkie. "I need it." He breathes out desperately, eyes big and pleading. You allow yourself a second to just watch Mikes face before you start to move with a purpose.
You snake your hand lower, finding the already hard length of his cock through the rough material of his jeans. Mirroring what he did to you those ten days ago, you start to grind the heel of your hand against him.
Mike shudders, eyes fluttering shut at your touch. You can physically see tension slowly exit his body, leaving him slack and relaxed enough to sink deeper into the couch cushions.
The sight of him at ease and comfortable lights a fire in you. You feel a deep primal need to care for him, to make him feel good.
Patience wearing thin, you reach for the button of his jeans. Even in your arousal induced haste, you take a beat to appreciate the swell of Mike's cock pressing up against the denim. If this was any other time, you'd want to draw it out. To tease Mike until he can't take it anymore, but now is not any other time.
You pop the button to Mike's jeans, dragging the zipper down swiftly and pulling the flaps of his jeans open to frame his lewdly tented boxers. You can hear Mikes breath hitch, unable to keep from squirming under your intense gaze. The thin material leaves nothing to the imagination, the length and girth of him on display. There's a growing wet patch near the tip that's turned the light blue fabric dark and slick. An ache starts deep in your core, anticipation making you feel warm all over.
Slowly, you tug his boxers down enough for his cock to spring free and smack up against his stomach. "Ah! Shit," He hisses, hands balling up into fists by his sides.
Mike's dick is perfect. A nice length and girth you know will have your jaw aching in the best way later. The tip a soft pink color, and steadily leaking a stream of pre-come.
"I want to blow you," You say softly, getting close to Mike so your lips brush over his ear with every word. He shivers, mouth dropping open in a quiet moan. "Will you let me?"
Mike nods his head frantically. "Please," He pants, chest rising and falling quickly. "Please, I want it."
His begging is music to your ears.
You slide off the couch, kneeling between Mike's spread thighs. His straining cock makes your mouth water in anticipation. Holding the base in your hand, you lean forward to lick a board stripe from root to tip. Moaning at the heady taste and velvety feel of him on your tongue.
"God." Mike groans at the feel of your tongue.
You pull off with a slick pop, breaking a small thread of saliva trailing from the head of Mike's dick to your lips with your tongue. You lave over the tip, looking up to find Mike staring at you flushed and dark-eyed. You keep the eye contact as you sink back down, beginning to build up a rhythm.
Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Mike raise his hands before hesitating, and dropping them back down to the couch cushion. You can tell he wants to touch you, but he’s unsure of himself. You take his hands in yours, and place them on the top of your head.
At first he just sort of holds your head, overthinking what to do even with your permission. You’d laugh if you weren’t so busy preening over the feel of his unfairly big hands holding your head delicately, like he might break you.
“Fuck, your mouth…” Mike whispers, his words trailing off as he watches your lips work over his throbbing cock. His confidence grows, finally allowing himself to run his fingers through your hair and gather it in a loose fistful. Your moan of encouragement has him tightening his grip just a touch.
“Jesus,” Mike breathes quietly, you give him a lick underneath the head of his cock in response. "Fuck. Feels so good.”
You hum in response, working Mike's cock faster to draw out more of those whimpers that he can't hold in. Hollowing your cheeks and sinking down towards the circle of your fist still holding the base of his cock with wet, slick slurping sounds.
Mike's noises have gotten progressively louder by the second, you can feel his pulse beating wildly against your tongue through the vein running up his cock. You know he's close, and you're desperate to make him come.
You give him one long languid suck, swirling your tongue over the head as you pull off. His cock is slick with your spit, pulsing warningly. You use the wetness of your saliva as a makeshift lube to start stroking over him slowly.
"How's it feel, Mike?" You purr sensually,
When you sink back down, you don't break eye contact. Mike's eyes roll back into his head, the way his lips part on a sharp gasp, how his back arches off the couch, how his fist tightens even more around your hair.
Above you, Mike grunts, "Oh fuck, baby," His back arches, a rough gasp torn from his throat. The hand in your hair tugs sharply as he chokes out, "Gonna come, shit, gonna fucking come."
Mike shouts hoarsely, hips stuttering as he starts to come. His cock gives one final twitch in your mouth before he pumps load after load of warm come into your mouth. You moan loudly at the taste of his release coating your taste buds, swallowing what pools on your tongue routinely.
You continue to work your mouth over his cock, bringing Mike through the aftershocks of his orgasm, reveling in the broken sounds he keeps making. You lave your tongue over him savoring the taste of him, until he's tugging at your hair to pull you off his sensitive cock.
"C'mere, c'mere." He whines desperately. You’ve barely come up for air before Mike is bodily dragging you into his lap and kissing you like he needs it more than air.
His hand darts down your body and into your sweats. Mike moans in your mouth at the feel of your lacy panties absolutely soaked with your arousal. He wastes no time in finding your clit, rubbing tight circles over it with his thumb drawing a loud moan from your lips.
"Shit," You exclaim, nails digging into Mike's forearm. Your hips buck up into his touch, chasing his touch. "Mike..." You whine, needing him to do more.
"You drive me fucking crazy," He whispers roughly against the side of your face, sliding his pointer finger through the slick wetness of your folds. "I can't stop thinking about you."
“Oh god, Mike.” His fingers feel amazing, rubbing you in all the right places, his words lighting a fire in your stomach.
Mike gathers your wetness before pushing his thick middle finger in your tight heat. Your own moan gets drowned out by his guttural groan at the feeling of you clenching down on his finger.
“Fuck, you’re so wet.” He moans, thrusting his finger in and out of your aching pussy slowly. "You're so perfect, so perfect for me." Mikes lips trail kisses down your jaw as he adds a second finger into your dripping pussy, brushing against the spot inside you that sends white hot sparks of pleasure zinging up your spine.
"How's that feel?" He asks roughly, throwing your earlier teasing back in your face. You moan wantonly, hips moving grinding down as you ride his fingers in earnest.
Mike angles his hand in a way that lets his fingers thrust into you, hitting your g-spot all while the palm of his hand grinds into your clit
“I’m gonna come, Mike,” You whine desperately, hips stuttering as you tip over the edge. “I’m coming.”
"Yes, come for me." Mike whispers, lips brushing over your cheek.
Your chest heaves as you come down from your orgasm, collapsing against Mikes chest. You're an absolute mess, thighs shaking and sweat dripping down your back. A hiss escapes your mouth as Mike eases his fingers out of your twitching pussy. "Sorry." He whispers softly, kissing the top of your head tenderly.
You allow yourself to lay on his chest with his strong arms around your waist, keeping you close. So close you can feel his warm breath puffing out against your neck.
You don't want to let it, but reality sets in. "Are you gonna run away in the morning?" Your voice is so quiet you don't know if Mike even heard, and you can't force yourself to look up at him.
It takes him a second to register your words, you don't have to look at him to know he's wincing. "I," Mike starts, trying to find the right words. "I don't know." He admits, lips brushing against your hair.
The anger mixed with shame and embarrassment is quick to come, you scoff pushing off Mike's chest so you can go home. "Of course." You spit bitterly.
"Wait!" He rushes out, arms tightening on your waist to stop you leaving.
"What?" You bite out bitterly, whipping your head around to stare daggers at Mike. It backfires on you almost immediately, forcing you to stare into his big sad dumb eyes. He falters, mouth opening and closing as he fumbles to say anything.
You can't help that the look in his eyes tames your anger ever so slightly. The way he's silently pleading with you to stay, his brows drawn in concern and lips pulled down in a frown. Your steely resolve crumbles pathetically.
"What?" You repeat quietly. Mike flounders for a second more, before he finally gives in. "Please stay." He exhales softly, hands planting themselves on your hips, giving them a light squeeze..
Maybe it's your shitty resolve, maybe it's the post orgasm afterglow clouding your judgement, maybe it's the earnest look in Mike's eyes that keeps you from pushing out of his grip and out the door, but you just can't bring yourself to leave.
You stare back at him wrestling with your thoughts, but it's a losing game and you know that.
"Okay," You whisper slowly, settling yourself back down into his lap. "I'll stay."
*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧
i could NOT figure out how to end this, but maybe i could do a part three? would literally anyone want that?
taglist!
@ebodebo @yuenity @mfdxz @mikeschmidtgf @lee-inthebox @sunny-deary @ncqari
extra taglist!
@ballorawan740 @slasherluvrrr @importantgalaxyrunaway @iwantsleepplz @theaterhoefornewsies
#natalia writes!#natalia cant write anything under 1.000 words#part two#!!!#finally!!!#i hope you guys love it#hehe#it's very late#and i'm very tired#mike schmidt#mike schmidt x reader#mike schmidt smut#mike schmidt imagine#mike schmidt x you#josh hutcherson#josh hutcherson smut#josh hutcherson x reader#smut#fnaf#five nights at freddy's#fnaf movie#fnaf smut
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✎ᝰ BAKUGOU KATSUKI ; — it's getting harder to hold off on bakugou or based on this excerpt
࿄ ! warnings - corruption? fingering. nsfw. / note. this was very highly anticpated lol :} ty guys! minors& blank blogs dni.
you’ve never really enjoyed sex. while that’s not really taboo to say as a woman (considering the vast & massive orgasm gap) you think you might as well give up at this point.
most guys that you’ve met are selfish and egotistical, in nature and in sexual prospects. they overrate their sexual experience, licking at a nipple slightly before plunging into your walls without a care for any telltale signs of arousal. was sex supposed to be painful and dry? either way, you were not interested in trying to disprove that hypothesis anymore. swearing to abstinence made more sense than try to fuck your way through a dry spell. nuh uh. never again.
when you start dating katsuki, you realise you can’t hold off on not doing the deed any longer. your boyfriend is an attractive, adonis of a man and the sexual tension is through the high angled roof of his penthouse whenever you come over to his place.
however it becomes every time, every single time, in which you deny his advances, push away at the brush of his pouty lips against your jaw, wriggling away from his fingers dipping into the waistband of your pants, cutting off every passionate kiss with a pull of your teeth despite the damp spot that grows on your cotton panties. katsuki paid no mind to it at the beginning of your relationship; chalking it up to jitters and shyness.
but it gets to when you’re both in his bed together and it’s currently the furthest base you both have gotten to in regards to sexual endeavours. katsuki’s tongue delves deeper into your mouth and he uses an arm to wrap a leg around his waist. it’s only then when the gravity of the situation hits you. you panic and katsuki can feel you stiffening up.
katsuki pulls apart from the kiss and the hurt of the constant rejections is apparent through the furrow of his gold blond brows and the slight, dejected frown stretched across his lips.
“i get it,” katsuki huffs, breaking apart from your hold to get up and leave.
you panic again, and this time your heart sinks at the thought of katsuki leaving because of your constant shot downs and you sit up to pull him back down but the man is fast and he’s practically hulk so you decide on running in front of him to stop him.
you know you should’ve explained this to him before to prevent all of this stupid confusion but it’s embarrassing; the idea that you’ve never gotten off through sex even though you’re the furthest thing from a virgin. and even if you told him this half baked story, what would change? would he be any different from the others?
looking up at the red irises that bore into you so deeply and expectantly, you sigh. you finally tell him why you’ve been so avoidant to his advances with an indignant, worried wave of your hands, “it’s not you, it’s me”, and ,“i’ve never orgasmed through penetrative stimulation.”
katsuki raises a brow and you have to cover your face to hide the blooming pink spreading across your face when you tell him that “sex has just never been enjoyable for me… ‘m sorry for not telling you sooner.”
much to your surprise, you feel two hands pull at your waist before pulling your hands down off your face and the blond above you is smirking, so deliciously that your thighs subconsciously rub against it each other to prevent the ache that’s growing between them.
it’s also how you found yourself sat opposite his bedroom mirror, leaning against his bed with spread legs and with your back pressed against katsuki’s bare chest and your hands resting on his muscled forearms. all of your clothes are somewhere strewn across his bedroom - honestly, you can’t even care to remember, with the way your boyfriend has two fingers angled and dipped inside your dripping cunt.
it’s so noisy and so wet, and you should be flustered by it but with every squelch of his fingers dragging along the walls of your pussy, he brushes against that soft, cakey spot inside you and you’re already spasming. is this the third? the fourth? you don’t know how many times you’ve creamed all over his thick fingers and you can’t bring yourself to even look at the mess you’re definitely making.
but you can hear, no, feel how turned on katsuki is behind you. to think he’s the first man to ever make you feel this good, to make you orgasm so many times that you’re delirious with pleasure? he was going to ruin you so that whenever you were out and about without him, you’d think of him pressing his thumb languidly against your clit while he added another finger to stretch you out, to barrage an attack against the gooey spot inside your cunt until you couldn’t take it anymore.
katsuki drags his thumb off your clit to pinch at your nipple and to grab softly at your jaw so that you could see what he was doing to you in the mirror. the constant ministrations already have you hurtling towards another climax, if the erratic movements and heady gush of your cunt had anything to tell him.
“jus’ like that, princess,” he coos, “how about one more f’me? then i’ll give you my cock. how’s that sound, pretty girl?”
your bleary, wet eyes blink up at him and you weakly nod, as if you’re in a trance and katsuki chuckles, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead before moving his fingers again.
he really was going to be the death of you.
࿄ ! — all rights reserved © moominsuki. please do not copy, translate, repost nor recommend my work outside of tumblr. this is strictly prohibited.
#then he folds you in half and fucks you silly yay#bakugou smut#bakugou x reader#bakugo x reader#✎𓂃uma thirsts。°˖⌕#✎𓂃stamped: (my hero academia)。°˖⌕#༝˚૮ .♡ katsuki.#not proofread oops#moominsuki™#bakugou imagine#bakugo smut
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MEMORIES MAKE EVERYTHING SO DIFFICULT
⋆｡°✩ summary: where you fake amnesia to get out of a fight with your enemy and he lies and tells you'd been dating for a year
⋆｡°✩ character(s): draco malfoy, theodore nott, mattheo riddle, enzo berkshire and blaise zabini
⋆｡°✩ warnings: meantion of injury
⋆｡°✩ word count: 644
⋆｡°✩ author note: this is my first time writing for the harry potter fandom. so, sorry if the characters are ooc
masterlist.
DRACO MALFOY
⋆｡°✩ Draco found out through a friend you'd gotten amnesia, he immediately went to find you. Stating he was so worried you'd gotting injured by a gryffindor no less.
⋆｡°✩ When you expressed confusion over who he was, the lie slipped out. "Your boyfriend."
⋆｡°✩ You dismissed his suggestion of visiting the hospital wing. He decided to patch you up himself.
⋆｡°✩ This act went on for a while. He didn't know why. He wasn't in love with you. Was he?
⋆｡°✩ He told you he lied about being your boyfriend and understood if you never wanted to speak to him. You made an admission of your own. How you don't have amnesia and remember everything.
⋆｡°✩ "The love I have for you is real."
THEODORE NOTT
⋆｡°✩ The hole time you talking about how you don't remember him, he was just smirking at you. That's when he proclaimed you were dating him.
⋆｡°✩ Since forever he'd been in love with you but you'd always treated him like a enemy. When the opportunity presented itself, he wasn't gonna waste it.
⋆｡°✩ He didn't make a big show of dating you. Wanting to make the gestures more intimate and personal but also easier for him when it blows up in his face.
⋆｡°✩ When you finally told him you'd lied about the amnesia, he didn't speak to you for a while. You thought that was it but he'd cornered you asking if everything you'd said was a lie as well.
⋆｡°✩ He'd falled deeper in love then he ever has and the thought of you not reciprocating those feelings crushes him.
MATTHEO RIDDLE
⋆｡°✩ Mattheo didn't believe you as soon as the words left your mouth. He decided to fuck around to see how far you'll take it
⋆｡°✩ Saying how you'd been together for the better part of the year and "How could you not remember me?" bullshit
⋆｡°✩ You both went along with it. At the same time, Mattheo stopped flirting and sleeping around. What a weird turn of events? Why would he do that?
⋆｡°✩ You played along for a time but decided to tell him the truth. "I know. You're not as good at lying as you think."
ENZO BERKSHIRE
⋆｡°✩ As soon as the words left his mouth, he felt horrible. Why did he feel so bad? He was supposed to hate you.
⋆｡°✩ Still he never corrected himself and proceeded to take you on many many dates
⋆｡°✩ Pretending to be your boyfriend was a lot more enjoyable than he thought it would be. Was he falling in love with you? No way!
⋆｡°✩ Enzo knew he was lying to himself but it was better than admitting what he already knew
⋆｡°✩ You went on all kinds of dates. His friends noticed the change as he was a lot more happy and made fun of him for it.
⋆｡°✩ One of your friends accidentally mentioned you had lied to him. At first he was furious but he'd lied to you as well.
BLAISE ZABINI
⋆｡°✩ Blaise is not some one who makes fun of medical conditions but...
⋆｡°✩ He introduced himself as your boyfriend and for the last few months his feelings of hate had turned into love
⋆｡°✩ He was going show you how good of a boyfriend can he be and maybe just maybe you'll fall for him as he had for you
⋆｡°✩ It doesn't take him long to realise that you'd lied but he goes along with it. Ignoring obvious signs of you actually retaining your memory.
⋆｡°✩ He was his happiest when hanging out with you and he knew his feelings were real. He hoped you'd realise yours were too.
⋆｡°✩ Unable to lie to him anymore you told him the truth. How you lied and love him. His answer? Kissing you.
Thanks for reading!
#slytherin boys#slytherin boys x reader#slytherin boys x you#slytherin boys fanfiction#mattheo riddle x reader#mattheo riddle x you#mattheo riddle#mattheo riddle imagine#slytherin headcanons#draco malfoy#draco malfoy x reader#draco malfoy x you#draco malfoy x y/n#draco malfoy imagine#draco malfoy fanfiction#theodore nott#theodore nott x reader#theodore nott x you#theodore nott x y/n#theodore nott imagine#lorenzo berkshire#lorenzo berkshire x reader#lorenzo berkshire x you#lorenzo berkshire imagine#enzo berkshire x reader#enzo berkshire#enzo berkshire x you#blaise zabini x reader#blaise zabini#blaise zabini x you
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Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.
Chapter twelve ⭐︎ When the curtains call the time, will we both go home alive?
Warnings: 18+ minors don't interact! angst, jealousy, misunderstandings, mutual pining, mentions of unrequited feelings, mentions of cheating (not on reader), mentions of past stancy, jealous!Steve, slightly mean!Steve (kinda?), smut smut smut, bathroom sex, car sex, fingering, squirting. I like to picture Jacob as Drew Starkey hehe
Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader
Summary: Steve had never handled his jealousy very well, but being jealous over you, brings out a new side in him. He would do anything to keep you, anything.
Word count: 17.4k+
Author's note: I've been waiting for this chapter since forever, jealous men are always my jam, and @hellfire--cult took these ideas to a whole new level, enjoy this filthy chapter. This one is for all my Steve girlies who haven't given up on me after my last story ♡ Roe, I should grant you a thousand wishes at this point, you keep me so hyped for this story. Also this chapter wouldn't have been this good without you, don't even try to fight me
Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter ⭐︎ Next Chapter
♡
Nancy’s brows are furrowed in concentration, her pink lips pursed as she looks through the many dresses to find the perfect one, her curly hair is pulled up into a bun, held together by a white scrunchie with pink polka dots, she’s wearing one of the outfits she had gotten on your last shopping trip together, this is only your second time, but it’s fun, you like hanging out with her.
You drove to Indianapolis since Hawkins doesn’t have all too many clothing stores, especially after the ‘fire’ at the mall, you prefer it here anyways, the big city has much more to offer than the small town.
“What do you think of this one?” Nancy asks as she shows you the yellow sundress.
You tilt your head, pressing your lips together as you eye it, not quite liking the way too bright color. You walk around the clothing rack to get to the other side, holding the clothing items that you threw over your forearm a little tighter as you take in the different colors of the dress she’s still holding up.
“Mmm… No, maybe the blue one, Nancy?” You ask, as you point your finger at the baby blue color, when your eyes widen as you catch sight of the purple one, “or, the purple one! That one would look cute, it matches the color of your eyeshadow!”
She smiles at you, nodding excitedly. She puts the yellow dress on the rack, and looks through the purple ones to find her size.
“But you should go for the yellow one if you like it more.”
She shakes her head, looking back at you, “no, I trust your judgment,” she smiles and picks out the dress, “besides, this color is way cuter.”
You nod, a smile tugging at your lips, “yeah, it’ll look amazing on you.”
Her dimples show and her eyes light up a little.
Nancy has been nothing but kind and sweet to you, and you can’t help but feel guilt and regret growing inside of you for the way you once felt about her.
You weren’t only jealous of her because she had Steve, you also hated her for having him, and you’d spent your shared classes with her, staring at her and comparing yourself to the girl he loved so dearly – the girl he still loves. You were never rude to her or mean, you never glared at her or threw comments at her the way other girls did, after Steve had humiliated her in front of the whole town, despite your feelings for him, you did feel disappointed for what he had done, even when you didn’t even like her, at that time.
“You should try this one on!” Nancy pulls you out of your thoughts, a grin on her face as she holds up a black dress – a daring black dress. It’s short and flowy, the straps are thin, it’s low cut with a dainty bow on the front, the back very exposed. “You could wear this one to Vickie’s party.”
A smile tugs at your lips, you step forward and slowly reach your hands out to take it from her.
“You will look hot in it,” Nancy wiggles her eyebrows at you, nudging her shoulder against yours as she brushes past you to look for more dresses, “I’m sure I won’t be the only one who thinks that,” she says in a sing-song voice.
Nancy had been very persistent in trying to get you to go on dates. The last time you went out together, the Barista at your local coffee shop had put his number on your takeaway cup after giving you the order for free. She tried to convince you to give him a call, gushing over how sweet he was to you and how he looked at you, and yeah, he was sweet, he was very good looking too, and maybe you would’ve given him a call if things were still the same they were months before this. Yeah, you would’ve definitely given him a call, but only to forget about the certain someone who woke up in your bed this morning. Whose bed you will go to sleep in tonight.
As you stare at the dress, all that you can think about is Steve, and how he will react to seeing you in this.
Will he think that you’re pretty?
Will you look irresistible to him?
Will he want to tear it off of you?
After all, he does like your dresses, your sundresses especially, you see the way his eyes darken whenever you step into his house with a new one on your body, like he is ready to rip it to shreds and devour you for the next few hours or so, and he usually does, sometimes he doesn’t even take it off, and only pushes it aside, bunching it around your waist.
This sundress is by far more revealing than any of the other ones you have worn before. Excitement bubbles in your stomach as you think of his reaction to it.
You are definitely getting it.
After taking forever to pick out what clothes to keep in the dressing room, you both make your way out of the store with full bags, stuffed with new summer clothes. You stroll around town for a while, looking for new jewelry and shoes to go with the dresses you both bought.
You never realized just how much you missed having a girl friend to do these things with, until you sit down at a cute café to eat some late lunch. It’s something you always used to do with your childhood best friend, that you always try not to think of, too painful are the memories of Chrissy and how you couldn’t be there for her, how you couldn’t save her. You always wondered if things would have gone differently had you both not drifted apart the way you did when you both went separate ways.
But it’s no use to overthink about it, you won’t ever find out.
“Funny how we’re shopping for clothes, when a few weeks back we were fighting for our lives against something the whole world doesn’t even know about,” Nancy says as she looks over the menu.
“Yeah,” you nod with wide eyes, glancing up from your own menu to look at her, you realize that you never asked how she got involved in all of it, in the first place.
You clear your throat, “I never asked… how did you get involved?”
She raises her brows at your question, taking a deep breath before she puts down the menu.
“I–It was when Barb went missing, right after Will… What the police said about her wasn’t right, I knew my Barb, so I looked into it all, and I dragged Jonathan in with me because he was looking for his brother, only to find out that my brother and all of his friends were in it too…” She rolls her eyes, a smile tugging at her lips.
You laugh a little, shaking your head.
A shiver runs down your spine as you think of how long it had all been going on in the shadows, how long you had been unaware of the Upside Down and the existence of monsters, how children were involved in something they shouldn’t have been.
“And then, poor Steve… He showed up at Jonathan’s place when we tried to lure in the Demogorgon, he almost ran off… but he came right back to fight him with us.”
You know all about it, Steve told you how he fought the Demogorgon with Nancy and Jonathan, how he had been dragged into it all by accident, how he helped Dustin find Dart, how he protected the kids and climbed into the tunnel after getting beaten by Billy.
You know most of what happened, not only from Steve, but also from Robin, but you feel intrigued, you want to know more… from her.
Something flashes in her eyes, a look of guilt, a look of regret.
You know exactly what she’s thinking about, and you know that you shouldn’t bring this up, but your curiosity gets the best of you.
“I-I was at Tina’s Halloween party.”
Nancy winces at that, she doesn’t seem uncomfortable by your words, just… regretful of the memories that night brings her.
You remember the night just as well as she does. Steve had bumped into you after he rushed out of the bathroom you didn’t even know he was in with Nancy, he glared at you and nudged your shoulder harshly, he rudely told you to move out of his way and murmured some incoherent curse word at you.
You remember how deflected you felt, all night you had avoided him only to bump into him in his worst moment.
Everyone knows what happened that night, not in full detail, but it doesn’t take a genius to find out what happened between King Steve and his girlfriend after he had stormed out of the house without her, and she left with Jonathan instead.
Word traveled around, rumors circulated, but you didn’t listen to them, it wasn’t any of your business, and it wasn’t hard to figure out what had happened anyways. Just as Steve and Nancy’s relationship ended, she showed up to school, holding hands with Jonathan. Clearly, something happened between them long before her relationship with Steve had ended.
Steve hated you, but your heart broke for him still.
It was so very obvious how much he loved her, and you can imagine how much it hurt when she cheated on him, and left him and his heart in shambles.
“I-I will never forgive myself for it. No matter if– he did forgive me. I was horrible to him, no amount of apologies can take away the guilt I will forever feel.”
“W-What happened?” You ask nervously, not wanting to overstep but still feeling the curiosity tugging harshly in your chest.
She sighs, looking around the bustling street before her eyes move back to yours.
“I-I always blamed him for what happened to Barb, I should’ve gone home with her that night, but I didn’t, even though I promised I would. I went with him, a-and the Demogorgon got her,” she explains, shaking her head a little as she closes her eyes, “it wasn’t Steve’s fault, not at all, but I-I blamed him and every time I looked at him, I just thought about her and what happened to her and how things would’ve gone differently if I didn’t leave her that night, if I didn’t went with Steve.”
You dig your nails into your palms, swallowing harshly as you watch her.
“He was good to me, he was there for me, b-but I couldn’t stand him sometimes, and how he tried to act like everything was normal, when it wasn’t.”
The feeling of irritation sparks inside of your chest, crawling into your bloodstream.
“And then, the Halloween party… I just, I was still grieving and I was angry, I let it all out on him, I should’ve handled things differently, I shouldn’t have been so harsh but… I-I called him bullshit,” she confesses to you, scrunching up her nose as she cringes at her own self, “and then I confessed my true feelings for him and our relationship.”
You swallow the lump in your throat, the anger that you are holding back after those leave her mouth. Bullshit.
How could she do that to him?
How could she hurt him the way that she did?
How could she call him that?
You can tell that it takes a weight off her shoulders, that it’s something she hasn’t talked about since it happened, not to Robin, not even to Jonathan, because after these words leave her mouth, she takes a deep breath, and her body relaxes as she leans back in her seat.
Her face is edged with shame, but also with relief to finally be able to let it out.
And you try, you really try to hide your own feelings, the anger, the hurt that you feel for the man that you hold so dearly in your heart.
You feel thankful for the waiter who interrupts your thoughts, he places the drinks that you ordered on the table, and reaches for his notepad, taking Nancy’s food order first.
You take a sip of your iced tea and you watch her for a moment, reminding yourself of how long ago it was, how much she changed, how much he changed, how it’s none of your business, how you shouldn’t feel angry at her, even when she’s the one who hurt him, when she’s the one he still wants, despite what she did.
He would take her back in a heartbeat if she came back to him, and the thought breaks your heart.
But you can’t help but keep dancing around the topic, so after the waiter takes your order and leaves, you ask her something you’ve been wondering about for weeks now.
“Do you… regret it? Do you sometimes wish that things between you went differently?”
She leans her elbows on the table, placing the straw between her lips, she takes a sip of her drink before she leans back again.
“The only thing I regret is how I led him on, I wish I could go back, and lay it all out on him in a different way… Explain to him why… I didn’t feel that for him, give him a reason instead of making him think that he’s damaged.”
She cared about him, you can see it in her eyes, you can hear it in her voice. She cared, even if only poorly.
“I see,” you nod, trying not to sigh. “And… well– when the whole thing with Vecna…” You pause as you feel the weight on your chest crushing you with nervousness.
She tilts her head at you, “what?”
Heat rushes to your cheeks, you lick your lips as you look around, watching the people in the busy street across the café for a moment, before you return your gaze to her.
“Well… It was noticeable you know… and then… you two weren’t exactly quiet in the RV,” you mumble, trying not to sound bitter as the day catches up to you, what Steve had said to Nancy, how he looked at her, how she looked at him – and the rude things he said about you before the white picket fence conversation came up.
Her eyes widen a little, cheeks blushing a deep red as she looks down sheepishly.
You don’t know what you had expected, but you certainly didn’t wait for her to blush, it makes your stomach clench uncomfortably.
“I–I was just hurt because of Jonathan. Feelings are cunning, evil… I was angry, and I think my heart and mind looked for where I could find comfort.”
Oh, how ugly the feeling in your chest now is, how bitter the taste on your tongue is, how the sweetness of your drink does nothing to make it better, because you know, you know that you wouldn’t be sitting here now if Jonathan didn’t come back, you wouldn’t wake up in Steve’s bed or fall asleep in his arms.
Because she would be the one.
You knit your brows together as you stare at her, “but Steve–”
“I know but… I think it was just a heat of the moment kind of thing.”
You physically have to restrain yourself from clenching your jaw or rolling your eyes. So, you look away for a moment, staring into a blank space as you try to calm your breathing.
Heat of the moment.
You want to scoff and laugh at her words, because telling your ex-girlfriend that you want to have six kids with her is totally, a heat of the moment kind of thing, right.
You’re very well aware of the jealousy that is boiling inside of you, worsening every passing second, and yet, you can’t help but want to fuel the fire even more, and find out what she would’ve done if she needed more comfort.
So when you look at her back, you ask, “so… if you were still hurt and Jonathan didn’t come back…?”
You see the way she freezes, the way she hesitates, the way she takes way too long to answer your question.
“I-I don’t think that I would’ve been with Steve again… Even if my urges and desires told me to… That’s the only thing they were… desires or… attractions. I wouldn’t want to hurt him again and give him the idea that there’d be a chance for a future,” she sighs, shaking her head, “I’m not the one. I’m not the woman for the future of his.”
You don’t know whether to feel sad for Steve or yourself.
She is that woman.
She is the one, the only one that he wants in that way, so why is she denying it?
The question lingers in your mind and you can’t help but wonder, what would happen if she stopped denying it? If her feelings were more than just desire after all? If she came back to him?
There is no doubt about what he would do.
You’d be nothing but a faint memory the moment she’d come back.
You’d no longer occupy her space in his bed.
You’d no longer be the one he’d kiss, touch, feel.
And you, you would step aside without a moment of hesitation, because despite your feelings for him, you would want him to be happy, and you know that he would never get that with you.
“Besides, I don’t want to be. Steve was my first boyfriend, puppy love,” she chuckles. “It’s different with Jonathan, I want him in my future, a-and I’d honestly take any future with him,” she says, as a soft smile creeps on her face, “I didn’t love Steve but, I love him,” she says truthfully and honestly.
She isn’t someone you have to worry about.
She isn’t someone who will take your temporary space, at least not now, not anymore.
But you still can’t find peace within you after this conversation, you can’t push aside the thoughts of him, of how much he still wants her, of how much he still loves her, of how much he wishes to be with her again, and it upsets you, even when it shouldn’t.
So, when you come home, you throw your bags on the stairs and make your way into the kitchen, you pick up the telephone and you call him, coming up with some weak excuse as to why you can’t see him tonight.
You want to see him, but you wouldn’t be able to control your feelings, you wouldn’t be able to hide the pain in your eyes. If Nancy wasn’t with Jonathan, she would be with Steve, and he would choose her, then and now.
You heard the sigh on the other end, the disappointed ‘okay… bye, Blondie.’ before you hung up the phone abruptly.
You want him, you want to be with him, you want to feel his touch, his hands on your skin, his lips on yours, and yet, you don’t at the same time, because right now, it would just hurt too much.
You need to calm your anxious thoughts, or you will give yourself away completely.
-
Two days.
It’s been two whole days since Steve had last seen you, and both his mind and his body were going crazy over the lack of you.
When you had called him on Wednesday evening, he was already waiting for you, giddy and excited for another night with you, but when you announced that you wouldn’t come, he felt deflected, a little crushed even, but he understood, you sounded tired and like you needed your rest, so he didn’t even try to convince you to let him come see you.
But the next day, there was no trace of you either, you didn’t call, you didn’t visit him at work, you didn’t come over, and when he tried to call you, you didn’t pick up the phone, you also weren’t home, your car wasn’t in your driveway, you were gone. And it made him feel… weird.
Because where were you?
You had never done anything like this before, always eager and ready for him, but never this.
He craved you so terribly, he wanted to see you, he wanted to hear your voice, to feel your touch, to feel your body beneath his.
He longed for you, and two days away from you, only showed him just how much of a hold you have over him.
The past two days went by so slowly, it was almost agonizing – just like the terrible music that blasts through Vickie’s house as more and more strangers make their way into her home, filling the empty spaces.
With his back against the wall, Steve stands there with his arms crossed over his chest, a bored expression on his face as he nods along to Eddie’s rambling about some band he had never even heard the name of, occasionally putting on his meanest face to glare at the people who give Eddie dirty looks. He can’t stand them.
He takes a sip of his coke, looking around the crowded room in search of you.
He knows you’re here, but he has yet to see you.
You came with Eddie, but while the latter instantly came to find him, you apparently left to find Robin, who he hasn’t seen in a while either.
He has been here for at least two hours now, and he is beginning to grow restless, wanting to just push himself away from the wall and go find you.
“--And I can’t wait to see them live, man! No more headbanging in my room,” Eddie laughs as he sips on his beer. “Judas Priest is sick! You gotta come with us, I’m sure Gareth won’t mind.”
“Mmm.” Steve nods, glancing at Eddie with a plastered smile on his face, he feels a bit bad for not listening to him, but Eddie doesn’t seem to mind, he continues talking.
Steve cranes his neck, looking into the kitchen, then into the hallway, and out into the backyard, trying to catch a glimpse of you, but all he sees are people he doesn’t care about.
The music is starting to give him a headache, and the smell of liquor and weed is beginning to make him feel hazy. He's not drinking, he’s got other plans that hopefully won’t be canceled tonight but the more time passes, and there is still no trace of you, his hope is beginning to dwindle, because a part of him starts to believe that you are doing this on purpose, not showing yourself to him.
Are you avoiding him?
The thought makes his chest ache weirdly, a feeling that he can’t even describe floods through his veins.
He doesn’t want you to avoid him, he doesn’t want you to stay away from him, he doesn’t want you to get bored of him.
“I got Robin to listen to my mixtape, you’re next, I’m telling you, you’re gonna be a metalhead in no time,” Eddie chuckles, bumping his shoulder into his, he pulls Steve out of his thoughts.
“Huh?” Steve furrows his brows at him before a forced laugh falls from his lips, “y-yeah, sure.”
Eddie snorts, knowing that he wasn’t listening to a single word he just said and still agreed. A smirk tugs at his lips, he tilts his head, “so, you’re gonna listen to it?”
Steve nods, pursing his lips as he scratches the back of his neck.
“Promise?” Eddie asks, almost cackling.
“Yeah, promise,” Steve shrugs.
Eddie shakes his head, bringing his beer up to his lips, “you’re gonna regret that,” he murmurs against the glass before he takes a sip.
Steve hates the music Eddie listens to, he’s hated every song he has shown him so far, but Eddie will take that promise in satisfaction, knowing that Steve never breaks any of his promises.
Eddie takes a look around the room, recognizing a few people from school, some of whom have already graduated the year before. The guy by the snack table is the one who catches his attention the most, he squints his eyes as he takes a better look at him – tall, dark blond, lean, the gold ring that he always wore on his middle finger, still in place. Jacob Leeney.
He hasn’t seen him since last year when Jacob was back from college for the weekend, the same weekend you made this guy lucky.
He wants to make a joke to Steve about it, knowing that he hates the football captain’s guts, when from the corner of his eye, he notices how Steve stands up straighter.��
Every hope that began to dwindle, comes back in a rush when Steve sees you for the first time in two days.
You walk into the room with a drink in your hand, a smile on your lips that grows brighter when your eyes lock with his.
His own eyes light up at the sight of you, something in his chest swells with a feeling he grew unfamiliar to. His lips curl into a smile as he stares at your face for the longest time, before he lets his eyes roam your body, the exposed skin that isn’t covered by the pretty dress that you’re wearing, begging for his attention, begging to be marked up by his lips and to be touched by his hands.
If only he could look into his own reflection to see just how awestruck he looks at the sight of you, how you lit up the whole room for him with your presence. If only he was focused on the beating of his heart or the fluttering in his stomach, the butterflies he thought were long gone, rising back up and filling him with life.
Your skin is glowing beneath the dim fairy lights, your glossy lips that he craves to feel on his own, looking even more kissable than usual, and he already begins to count down the second until he can actually feel them.
You start making your way over to him, the platform heels that you’re wearing making you look taller than you are.
Steve licks his lips, having to fight the urge to just meet you halfway, throw you over his shoulder and get the hell out of here so he can have you all to himself.
Your eyes are locked with his, a blush creeps up on your face and you grow flustered beneath his stare, a sheepish smile tugging at your lips as you raise your hand up to tuck your hair behind your ear – good, nothing changed in those two days.
His excitement grows, the closer you get, he has nearly all forgotten about his friend next to him, about the other people in this room, but the reminder that it’s not just you and him in this room, catches up quickly, when the smile falls from your lips and your eyebrows furrow as a hand on your upper arm stops you, not enough to startle you, but enough to make you turn around in and look away from him.
Steve’s own smile falls, and he straightens his back even more.
He no longer sees your face, your expression or your reaction, but he sees him, Jacob Leeney. And the sight of him alone, is enough to turn the fire that you lit up inside of him, into raging flames. – And not because of the rivalry that was once between them, but because of what he had found out about you and the football captain not too long ago.
Steve can’t hear what he’s saying to you, but the smile, the smirk on Jacob’s face makes his blood boil. The look in his eyes as he stares you down, making him clench his jaw.
He pulls you into a hug, hand coming to rest between your shoulder blades, but not quite staying there, he moves it lower and lower until it rests dangerously low on your back as he hugs you for longer than necessary.
“Damn,” Eddie mumbles from beside him, “Leeney’s about to get another best fuck of his life,” he chuckles, repeating the words that the jock had said to him months back.
And it does little to calm Steve down.
“I mean, unless they’ve seen each other this week before, I heard that he was back in town… a few days ago,” Eddie shrugs, watching him closely.
He watches the way you take a step back, putting distance between you and Jacob after you pull away from the hug, but his hand lingers, not on your back anymore, but now on your elbow as he taps his fingers against your skin, talking to you with a look on his face that gives away his intentions. The sparkling in his eyes matches the one of his own, he wants you, he wants you badly. The interaction between you seems so… trusted, intimate.
And then, Steve registers what Eddie had said to him, just now.
A few days ago.
Steve freezes.
The cold shudder that runs through him, weakening the flames that just ignited.
Is that why you canceled your plans with him?
Is he the reason why you haven’t called?
Did you stand him up for Jacob?
Were you with him?
Did you let him kiss you?
Did you let him touch you?
Did you forget all about him?
He can’t decipher his own emotions at this very moment, too many are running through him, anger, frustrations… and a very ugly emotion that he won’t admit to feeling.
He takes a deep breath, unable to hide the frown on his face as he watches you.
Steve knew it, he knew that his own rule would come to haunt him, and he suddenly feels a deep regret for suggesting the inclusivity that allows you to see other people, he doesn’t want you to do that, he doesn’t want you to see other people, he wants to be the only one for you.
He is watching you, so closely, so intensely, glaring at the touchy man in front of you, like he’s ready to light him up with his own eyes for putting his hands on places only he should be allowed to touch.
Eddie slaps his shoulder, “I’ll be right back,” he announces before he scurries away from Steve who refuses to tear his eyes off of you.
He continues to watch you like a hawk, eyes not straying away from you and the man before you, and despite the intensity in his gaze, he is blind to your reactions, to the subtle, tiny steps you take to put distance between you and Jacob. All that Steve can see is the burning red that flashes in his eyes every time he touches you.
He sees the way your shoulders shake from laughter, the way you brush your hair back as you tilt your head up to look at him.
And the more time passes as you stand across the room, spending time with someone who isn’t him, he begins to grow impatient, restless.
You should be here, with him, by his side.
And he wants to show you that the only one you need is him. So, without a second of hesitation, he slams his drink on the table, and he lets his feet carry him over to you, no longer wanting to stand there and watch how someone else might steal you away from him, he won’t let it happen.
He let it happen with Nancy, he probably would’ve let it happen again if he was still with her, if this was her with Jonathan in front of him, he would’ve looked the other way, despite the aching in his chest.
But you aren’t Nancy, and his feelings, his reactions, his action that he’s about to take, didn’t fully sink in yet.
Once he is in earshot, Steve hears Jacob’s annoying, flirty voice.
“You’re the prettiest girl at this party.”
Your giggle follows, and it makes Steve’s skin crawl – if he wasn’t so driven by jealousy, and blinded by anger, he would’ve heard how fake it sounded.
“Oh, I don’t think so.”
Jacob chuckles, opening his mouth to speak, to throw some lame pick up line at you, probably.
But Steve doesn’t let him. Stepping up beside you, he places his hand on your back first, before he slides it down to your waist, gripping it tightly. The feeling of your body beneath his palm, your warmth and the way you melt into his touch after you turn and tilt your head to look at him, makes his stomach flutter pleasantly.
You step closer to him, relaxing further when he squeezes you with his large hand, though your eyes are wide and your lips are parted as you stare at him.
Right now, he can’t even find it in himself to care that your friends could see the intimacy between you and him, all he cares about is you and dragging you away so he can finally have you all to himself.
“Can I talk to you?” He asks, calmly.
Your wide eyes spark with curiosity as they look into his own, your glossy lips parting further for him as you come up with words, only to be cut off by Jacob.
“Oh hello, Harrington, long time no see!” The jock grins.
Steve clenches his jaw, but still turns to face him, biting back the distaste on his tongue, he nods at him, “yeah, yeah man, I’ll take her for a minute, okay?” He mumbles with squinted eyes and a fake smile on his lips as he points to you.
Before the blond can even respond, Steve’s hand leaves your waist, and moves over to your wrist. He grabs your much smaller hand and holds it tightly, giving it a squeeze as he pulls you away and begins to walk, basically dragging you out of the room, and you don’t protest, you follow him, without a single word, slamming your drink on the counter on the way out.
You both walk into the crowded hallway, and he pulls you closer to him when you pass by a group of guys who are talking rather loudly. He pushes you towards the stairs, bringing your hand up a little as he gets behind you.
He doesn’t even bother to look out for your friends, they aren’t on his mind right now and he finds himself not caring about who could see you together. He also doesn’t care about one of his many rules that he is about to break when he pushes you into an empty bathroom.
You switch the light on and let go of his hand when you walk in further.
Steve turns around to close and lock the door, his fingers linger on the handle as he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.
“What’s wrong, did something happen?” You ask.
He opens his eyes again and turns around to face you, he raises his hand up, running it through his styled hair, he licks his lips as he lets his eyes roam your body for a second, taking a better look at the dress he hasn’t seen on you before, it must be new.
The light that shines on you from the ceiling is golden, making your soft skin glow, making it look even more delicate, more desirable. Your chest rises up and down heavily, a worried expression etched in your beautiful features as you stare at him with furrowed brows. Your pouty lips parted.
Can he blame Jacob for trying to go after you? Not really.
“Nope, nothing happened,” he mumbles as he makes his way over to you.
You shake your head a little, frowning, “then why–”
He practically lurches forward, cupping your cheeks, he leans down and presses his lips against yours, the way he wanted to, all night.
You squeal in surprise, a noise that only fuels his lust even more, prompting him to deepen the kiss roughly. He can taste the sweetness of rum and pepsi on your lips, the strawberry from your gloss, he can taste you, he can smell the intoxicating scent of your perfume, he can feel your arms around his shoulders now as you start moving your lips against his, picking up the pace to match the speed of his own.
He moans when your fingers get lost in his hair and your nails graze his scalp as you try to pull him closer against you.
He licks your bottom lip, parting it with his tongue so he can slip it into your mouth. You let him. His palm slides down to your jaw, he holds it there for a moment as his other hand moves down to your hip, gripping it tightly as he presses you against the counter behind you, fingers now playing with the flimsy material of your sundress.
A needy moan blesses his ears, the delicious sound rushing to his cock, making it stir in his pants that are now getting way too tight around his groin.
You place your hand on the back of his neck as you place your other on his chest, pressing yourself further against him as you kiss him with whimpers and a neediness that he thought only he was feeling.
God, he missed you.
But, did you miss him?
Did your lips touch someone else’s when you weren’t with him, where you were supposed to be?
The flames that are still raging inside of him, sparking a new kind of anger in him at the thought of it, it prompts him to do something that he has never done before – he bites your bottom lip, making you wince and moan at the pain.
He pinches your chin between his fingers, pulling away from the kiss to look at you.
With furrowed brows, you open your eyes to look at him, leaning back in to steal a kiss, but he keeps you in place, ignoring the whine that falls from your lips.
“Jacob Leeney, huh?” He mutters, instantly clenching his jaw after saying that name out loud. “Why did you talk to him, hm?”
Steve moves his hand under your dress.
“W-What?” You ask, shakily. “He was just talking to me about college.”
Right. That is the reason why he looked at you like he was ready to tear your dress off and devour you, right then and there.
“Right,” he mumbles, gritting his teeth in anger.
You stare at him with a frown on your face, tilting your head a little as you reach your hand up to wrap it around his wrist. And then, realization flashes in your eyes and your lips twitch a little.
“You plan on fucking him tonight, Blondie?” He sneers, unable to hide the bitterness in his voice.
You raise your eyebrows, pressing your lips together, he watches the way your throat bobs as you swallow.
The silence between you is nearly deafening, he can feel your breath on his thumb as he still holds your chin, he waits for you to answer his question.
Your eyes crinkle, and your lips curl into a smile before you suddenly burst into giggles, making his irritation feel worse than before.
Steve’s muscles tense up and he bites the insides of his cheeks, pressing his knee in between your thighs, he holds you tighter.
“Why are you laughing, huh?” He asks, as he leans closer to you, cupping your jaw again, he tilts your head to the side, making your giggles die down the moment he latches his lips onto your neck.
You suck in a sharp breath.
“Mmm, nothing,” you murmur, “w-what if I am? What if I do plan on fucking him?”
Steve has to hold back to growl, threatening to escape as he presses another rough kiss to your neck, his fingers now digging deeper into your hip.
“Well, I have a little priority here, don’t you think?” He murmurs against your skin.
“Wasn’t it you… the one who said no exclusivity, Steve?”
His breath stopped for a moment, regret gnawing up in his throat like vile. He wants to back out of that rule… but you are not his, so he waters it down.
“New rule then, Blondie,” he mumbles, not stopping with the kisses on your neck, “we leave with each other when we are at the same place. So, meaning today it’s me.”
You furrow your eyebrows at his words, questions already lingering in your mind.
You would always choose Steve.
There is no one else you would go home with.
And you can’t help but want him to know, but you don’t get to tell him because just as you open your mouth, Steve starts kissing your neck differently, intensely, roughly. He sucks on your neck, marking you up and blessing your delicate skin with hickeys as though he wants to show everyone that you’re his, that you belong to him.
And you do, you do belong to him, but he doesn’t know it.
He doesn’t know that your heart is his, that your mind and body is in his possession.
He doesn’t know how crazy you go over his touches, how your heart flutters at every slightest touch of his, how weak and vulnerable you feel when he holds you, how no one else could ever come close to make you feel the things that he can make you feel.
“How many drinks did you have, Blondie?”
“J-Just half of the drink I left downstairs,” you say, tilting your head to the side to give him more access to your neck.
“Just that?” He asks, “you’re not drunk, are you?”
You shake your head quickly, “no, not at all.”
“Good,” he nods.
Your eyes flutter shut when you feel his fingers on your ruined panties, he pushes them aside and slips his long fingers through your folds, dipping them inside of you before he pulls them back out to tease your clit, digits now coated with your slick.
You jerk a little, wrapping your arm around him so you can hold onto him, a needy moan escapes your mouth.
You could have had this on Wednesday night, you could have had this last night, but you were too busy worrying about something that filled your heart with pain.
“S-Steve!”
He gets lost in his feelings, lost in the rage, in the possessiveness and the urge to show you that he should be the only one for you. His teeth graze your neck, his lips suck harshly on your skin as he spreads you open with two fingers.
You mewl when he starts pumping them inside of you, in and out, deeply and slowly at first.
“Who are you so wet for, huh?” He asks, pulling away just enough so he can look at the marks he left, appreciating the sight in front of him for a second, before he pulls your face towards him, gripping your chin tighter than before, his thumb now lingering on your bottom lip. “Tell me, Blondie”
You open your eyes, revealing to him just how dark they are, how much lust lingers in them.
“You, Stevie! Just you!” You whine needily before you wrap your lips around his thumb, catching him off guard, once again. You swirl your tongue around it, looking into his hazel eyes as you start sucking, you watch the way they widen and darken, the tension in his jaw now leaving as he is only focused on this, on you.
“Fuck,” he murmurs under his breath, picking up the pace of his fingers, he drags them out of you and slams them back in, nearly moaning himself when he listens to the squelching noises as he finger-fucks you, “just me?”
Your jaw drops and you throw your head back, letting go of him to hold onto the edges of the counter, he has got you pressed against at. You nod quickly, “yes, yes! Just you, only you!” You ramble as you squeeze your eyes shut again, enjoying the feeling of his fingers inside of you.
“Good.”
Steve can feel how you clench around him, how you’re already so close even though he didn’t even get started yet. He leans in to peck your lips as he curls his fingers inside of you, and he presses his thumb against your clit, rubbing it slowly.
He feels himself growing harder – the feeling of your tight, wet walls around his fingers being too much, along with the needy moans that keep falling from your pretty lips.
He stares at you, watching the way your nipples poke through the thin material of your dress – of course, you’re not wearing a bra. You bite your lip, your brows are knit together, and your head falls to the side as you let yourself get lost in the feeling he provides you with.
Not Jacob, definitely not Jacob.
The jock could never make you feel this, he is so sure of it, and yet, Steve can’t shake the thoughts of you and him together.
Would you be this wet for him too?
Would you moan so prettily for him?
Would you be so needy for him?
The anger just won’t leave him, it refuses to, it has him in its tightest grip, urging him to prove something to you.
His chest heaves up and down heavily, his darkened eyes are nearly black now.
You’re close, he can feel that you are with the way you’re clenching around him, but he doesn’t let you cum like this tonight, so he pulls his fingers out of you.
Your eyes shoot open and your lips part as you’re about to protest, pouting at him. He grabs your hips with both of his hands, turning you around abruptly, he bends you over the counter and presses himself against you, and he chuckles darkly when you gasp at his action.
Steve reaches for the hem of your dress and he flips it over, exposing your ass to him and the lacy thong you’re wearing, he groans at the sight of it, unable to hold back, he rears his hand back before he smacks his large palm against your skin, slapping your ass harshly.
Steve has never, never treated a girl roughly before, not any of his hookups, not Nancy, but then again, he never had this much fun with any of them. Letting go of his inhibitions, taking what he wants for once, and the fact that you let him, and even love it, makes him go feral.
But as the realization sinks in of what he had done, his eyes widen as fear rushes through him, worried that he had gone too far, but you ease his mind with the filthy whimper that sounds through the room as you press your ass against his dick, rubbing it against him as though you’re asking for more.
He can’t help but chuckle, the shock and the fear vanishing just as quick as it came.
“Oh, you like that, Blondie?” He asks as he presses his palm against your ass, this time not slapping it, but grabbing it roughly, making you whine again. “Of course you fucking do,” he murmurs as he lets go, only to smack you once more, making you gasp his name in pleasure.
“Please!”
He looks at your reflection in the mirror, needy eyes meeting his.
“Please what?” He asks as he unbuckles his belt and pops the button of his jeans, he reaches for the condom in his back pocket – mentally thanking his needy self for placing one there before he left his house, in hopes that he would get this.
“Please, fuck me!”
He pushes his jeans and boxers down, just enough to free himself, not wasting any more time, he rips apart the foil and throws the empty packet on the ground, making quick work of rolling the condom over his length. With his chin against his chest, he looks down, stroking his dick for good measure, his spit curl falls in front of his eyes, but he doesn’t bother to push it out of the way, he looks up through hooded eyes, glancing at you through the mirror, he almost wants to chuckle at the desperation in your eyes, but it gets stuck in his throat when you push your ass back against his dick, whining.
His stomach flutters seeing you so desperate for no one but him.
He grabs your hip with his left hand, pressing himself against you, he teases both you and himself by slipping his shaft through your wet folds, he watches the way you look at him, begging for more with your eyes as you push yourself up a little.
He presses his palm against your lower back, pushing you down so your chest is flush against the marble counter, he lines up with your entrance and pushes inside of you slowly. Waves of pleasure rush through him in an instant. You scrunch your face up, lips parting as a sigh escapes you.
You throw your hand back, reaching for his forearm, you grab it tightly as you shut your eyes and drop your head a little, your hair falls in front of your face, hiding all your pretty features.
Steve looks down, watching his cock disappear into your weeping pussy.
“You take me so well, holy shit,” he murmurs under his breath. And it was the truth, you take him like no other, making you the most addictive.
He sinks into you, deeper and deeper, stretching you out and splitting you open, the tension inside of him grows and his heartbeat increases. He pulls out again, watching the way the condom around him glistens with your slick – how he wishes that he could feel you without it. He slams back in, making you gasp and arch your back in pleasure. He starts thrusting, in and out, deeply and slowly at first, but with an intensity that makes you open your eyes again.
“Steve!”
“That’s right,” He grunts, reaching his hand forward, he grabs your hair and tilts your head back up, forcing you to look at yourself in the mirror as he moves his hips faster, quickening his pace until he’s pounding you. “Look at who’s fucking you right now, Blondie.”
The loudest moan falls from your lips, and you instantly bring your hand up to cup your mouth, panic flashing in your lust filled eyes. Despite the loud music, you are scared that someone might hear you, and it only prompts him to fuck you harder and rougher against the counter, holding you tighter as heat spreads in his chest – who do you want to hide from? Your friends, or Jacob?
But while Steve worries about something that isn’t even on your mind, you are so far gone, so lost in the pleasure that you feel because of him, your insides so sensitive already, yet aching for more. You focus on the way he thrusts in and out of you, how heavenly it feels to feel him inside of you, to feel him in your stomach.
You are so drunk on him that there is not a single thought in your brain, only him.
No one has ever done this to you, no one has ever made you feel so weak, so submissive, so lost in the heat of the moment, no one has ever taken such control – you wouldn’t have let them, only he can have this.
Your eyes turn glassy, rolling back as you throw your head back, your weak hand falling from your face again.
“Yeah, as if that asshole could fuck you like this,” he grunts, letting go of your hair and moving his hand forward to cup your cheeks, “say it. Say no one can fuck you like this, Blondie, because I know it’s true.”
Your walls clench and flutter around him, a cry leaving you as he pulls your ass up a little, slamming in and out of you, hitting the spot that makes tears fall from your eyes, making him even more aroused than before.
“Only you, Steve!” You sob as a tear spills down your cheek and onto his thumb.
Your knees buckle and your body begins to tremble, sobs and moans turn into needy whines and whimpers, your flustered face decorated with pretty tears making his muscles tense in his stomach.
You try to keep quiet as you press your lips together, trying to breathe calmly through your nose despite the pounding in your chest, when he suddenly changes the pace again, pounding you so hard that he knocks you forward, hitting so deep inside of your squelching pussy, that you can’t help but cry out loudly as stars blur your vision.
“Stevie, Stevie, Stevie!”
Steve nearly busts, eyes widening at the way you chant his name so desperately. His hips stutter a little and he has to suck in a sharp breath, eyes shutting for a moment. He twitches inside of you, and it doesn’t help that you keep clenching.
The sound of the music, of laughter and voices outside are so far away, the only thing you both hear are your moans and how wet you are as his skin slaps against yours.
He slows down a little, enough to make you whine again, to make you move back against him, trying to fuck yourself on his cock.
“F-Fuck,” Steve moans, he opens his eyes again, reaching forward, he grabs your shoulder and pulls you up and against his chest before he lets his hand travel down your stomach, he pushes your dress out of the way, and his fingers find their way to your clit.
A high pitched moan echoes through the room, your body shakes harder and you grab his forearm tightly as he rubs circles on your sensitive nub.
He presses his lips to your neck, moaning himself as the tension in his stomach grows bigger and bigger. He kisses your delicate skin, his mouth brushing the dark marks he left.
You cling to him, nails grazing his skin, you press the side of your face against his, staining his cheek with your tears.
“I know, baby, I know.”
If only he knew just how such a simple yet special word affects your heart, making it beat faster and harder in your chest, setting all your insides on fire and igniting something in you that throws you into a pit of love and glee.
Steve had never called you this before, and you could only dream of such sweet nicknames, until now.
Your eyes roll back again, eyelashes fluttering as you squeeze them shut completely, mouth ajar as filthy noises fall. You’d fall over if it wasn’t for his strong arms holding you up, his fingers moving so fastly on your clit, his dick so deep inside of you, his lips biting gently on your skin, all it takes is another rough thrust and your body begins to shake for a different reason, you fall apart for him, once again.
You don’t even feel yourself drooling, you no longer feel the tears spilling down your cheeks.
“Good girl,” he whispers into your ear, kissing the spot behind it before he grabs your chin and tilts your head to the side so he can press his lips against yours, pulling you into a soft kiss as he keeps fucking you, chasing his own high.
Steve furrows his brows, his muffled moan vibrating against your lips as he gives one last powerful thrust and spills into the condom, secretly wishing that he could spill inside of you and paint your walls white instead.
His body relaxes after the high it had been on for the past minutes, muscles loosening, but lips still moving gently against yours.
Both yours and his moans die down after a moment, but you’re still panting, trying to catch your breaths as you pull away from one another. You open your eyes, and look into his, the blackness slowly fading away and you see the pretty hazel color again. His tongue licks his bottom lip, eyes flickering between your own and the marks he left on your neck.
A lazy smile appears on your face and you feign confidence as you tilt your head to the side and reach your hand up to move the spit curl away from his forehead, the tips of your fingers brushing his skin, he holds you tighter in response.
“I didn’t think you could get so jealous, Steve,” you whisper, ‘jokingly’ but most of all, painfully to yourself.
You’d hope that he was jealous, that all of this was the result of the burning red emotion, but why would he feel jealous over you?
Just the presence of Jacob was enough to bruise Steve’s ego. That’s all that it was.
You know he never liked the jock, and the fact that he got his hands on you first, must’ve hit a nerve. But it has nothing to do with you. Steve is not jealous of who you sleep with, he doesn’t care. He is just bruised cause he felt threatened with an ex hook-up you had, afraid of them stealing you for tonight.
Steve huffs at your words, shaking his head at you. He pulls out of you with a hiss, cursing under his breath.
“Well, did you think I’d let him steal you away from me…?” He asks, clearing his throat as he adds, “tonight?”
And then he looks down, not wanting to show his face, to show how jealous he really is.
He doesn’t need you to know that.
He slips his hand between your thighs again, adjusting your panties and putting them back in place before he fixes your dress, pushing it back down over your ass.
Your eyes soften at his action, heart fluttering in your chest.
It’s not the first time he does this, he always takes care of you – he cleans you up, he helps you put a shirt on your body whenever you stay over, whenever you’re too weak to move. He is good to you, gentle and soft, and that is dangerous, because despite the thoughts in your head, the logical part that tells you the truth, his actions keep putting false hope into your heart.
You grab the counter, and on shaky feet, you step closer and hold onto it tightly, watching as he fixes himself next, throwing the condom and the discarded foil into the trash, he tucks himself back into his pants and steps towards the counter beside you to wash his hands.
His lips are stained with your lipstick, his hair is messy and his cheeks are flushed – he looks so cute like this.
You tear your eyes away from him and finally look at your own reflection, your eyes widen and you gasp in shock – not at the mascara that runs down your face, the messy hair or just how puffy your lips are, no, this is not exactly an unusual sight to see, but the marks on your neck are, because they are so much bigger and darker than they usually are.
You throw your hand up towards your neck and turn to face him, “what the fuck, Steve?”
He winces, quickly drying his hands before he turns to face you, as well. Eying your hand that is covering the hickeys he left, your big eyes filled with panic. He can’t help but think you look cute like this, with your hair all messy and your lips curled into a pout.
“H-How am I gonna hide–”
He grabs your face and pulls you into a soft kiss, just a quick peck, one that is enough to cut you off.
“You think I’m done with you and we’re gonna go back to the party?” He chuckles, caressing your cheek as he pulls away from your puckered lips, “no, we’re leaving, Blondie.”
You gulp at his words and squeeze your aching thighs together as excitement rises back up in you.
“So, fix yourself and meet me downstairs,” he murmurs, placing another soft kiss to your lips before he pulls away. “I’ll wait by the front door.”
He takes another look at your neck, hiding his satisfied smirk by turning around. He unlocks the door and opens it, leaving you alone in the bathroom as he makes his way downstairs to find Eddie or Robin, to announce that he will be driving home a very sick Blondie.
While a smirk keeps playing on his lips, you are panicking in the bathroom, not knowing how to hide the marks he left, what lie to come up with this time if Eddie sees and asks questions again.
You do your best to fix your hair, running your fingers through it and wiping away the mascara streaks on your cheeks, and the smudged lipstick, that you only now realize, is still on his lips, he didn’t even bother to wipe it away – what an idiot.
You step back and take a look at your dress, smoothing it down and moving your hands back to your hair. The marks on your neck are so strong, so very visible, you’re not even sure if foundation and concealer will be able to hide this. A groan falls from your lips.
You should do the same to him, he surely won’t fix it with makeup.
You press your palm against your neck, testing out how it will look if you just go out like this.
“This looks so stupid,” you mutter to yourself, rolling your eyes.
You pray that you won’t run into any of your friends on the way out, all you have to do is make it downstairs and to the front door. You haven’t seen much of Eddie before, and Robin is too busy with Vickie anyways.
You take a deep breath and then you step out of the bathroom and into the hallway. It’s not as crowded as it is downstairs, but there are still a few people you have to pass, as you awkwardly keep your hand on your neck, pretending to scratch it.
You feel eyes on you, but you don’t bother to turn around to look at them, not even caring if they heard you and Steve – as long as your friends didn’t hear, you’re good.
Your legs are shaky, and walking in your platform heels feels like a workout after Steve just railed you into oblivion, your stomach still flutters, yet feeling empty at the lack of him.
You walk down the stairs, carefully. You hope that your knees won’t buckle.
The party is still in full swing, some Billy Idol song blaring through the speakers as the living room is still filled with dancing people. Red solo cups are everywhere, empty bottles and cans litter the counters and tables – poor Vickie will regret throwing a party when she wakes up tomorrow morning.
Your eyes fall on him, the smug look on his face making you huff in annoyance. Steve enjoys seeing you struggle after what he just did to you, he licks his lips as his eyes run up and down your body, they flash with amusement when they fall on your hand, you see the way his shoulders shake, he is chuckling at you as he plays with the car keys in his hand. Smug bastard.
You roll your eyes at him, and turn away, looking around to see if any of your friends are around, but the only people you see are strangers and a few known faces from school, you sigh in relief, knowing that you won’t have to lie into Eddie’s or Robin’s face. You return your gaze to Steve whose face is suddenly no longer as smug as it was a few seconds ago, his eyes aren’t even on you anymore, but rather on someone behind you as he looks over your shoulder.
Someone calls your name, someone who is the reason for the rage on Steve’s face that you had already seen before.
You turn around when your name is being called again, to find Jacob walking towards you. Oh.
You grow flustered knowing that the fucked out look on your face is so very obvious. You can’t even hide it.
He catches up to you, and he reaches his hand out to place it on your upper arm, “hi, there you are,” he smiles, towering over you. He is tall, much taller than you, even taller than Steve.
You greet him back, forcing a smile.
He furrows his brows as his eyes scan your face, his smile falling a little, a frown appearing instead, “are you okay?” He asks, worriedly. “Do you feel sick?”
You shake your head and open your mouth to speak when the words get stuck in your throat after his hand leaves your arm and comes to rest on your face instead, surprising you and angering Steve.
“Do you need me to take you home?” He asks, caressing your cheek.
You would have moved, but you are frozen in place as you stare at him, completely caught off guard by his action and the look in his eyes.
“I-I…”
A different hand appears on your lower back, one that your body instantly recognizes, because your skin heats up and your chest blooms with warmth – it’s scary how well your body knows him.
Steve pulls you into his side, wrapping his arm around you, “I got her, she’s in good hands, Leeney.”
Sometimes you wish that he knew how you felt about him, how your heart nearly explodes every time he says something only a boyfriend should say – maybe then, he would take pity on you and your heart.
You melt into his touch, the smell of his cologne is so intoxicating.
Jacob retracts his hand, he looks between you and Steve, his shoulders slumping a little as he steps back, he looks down at you, nodding, “alright.”
“Come on,” Steve murmurs, squeezing your waist as he begins to pull you away, wanting you away from the jock and towards the front door.
“Bye Jacob–”
“Wait,” he rushes forward, and reaches for your hand, placing a folded note into your palm. “Here, I’m not making the same mistake again.” He gives your hand a squeeze and smiles at you, not waiting for your response, he steps away and takes another glance at Steve, before he turns around and leaves.
You stare at the note in your hand, you don’t have to open it to know what’s written on the paper.
You fail to notice the absolute rage in Steve’s eyes, how much more intense it is than before, how tense the muscles in his jaw are, how it takes everything in him not to slam you against the wall and kiss you in front of Jacob and everyone else.
He pulls you out of the house without a single word, he grabs your hand instead as he leads you outside, he shuts the door and the sound of music and the many voices begin to fade away as you both make your way to his car, which he parked on the side of the road.
Your heels click against the cobblestone, your hands hold tightly onto his, you’re quiet, and so is he, but a storm is raging in his mind, and everything he felt before, now feels so much worse.
Can he keep you when there’s other people who want you just as much as he does? – And even, in different, much more intimate ways?
He saw the way Jacob looked at you, he wasn’t only interested in another quick fuck, he wanted more, and it irritates Steve, it makes his stomach churn uncomfortably, it makes his heart clench in his chest – it shouldn’t, there is nothing more between you than this, and yet, he is scared to lose it, the little secret that you both have, he isn’t ready to let it go, he isn’t ready to let you go and watch you fall into someone else arms.
He wants to keep you, and he will do everything to make it stay that way.
He knows that there is only one way to show you that he is the only you will ever need. At least, for now.
He opens the passenger door and lets go of your hand so you can get inside, eying the note that is still in your other hand. He closes the door once you’re seated, and he makes his way around his BMW, when he gets inside as well, he notices the now unfolded note in your lap and the number that’s written on it.
He grits his teeth but bites back his bitter words.
You won’t call him, he will make sure of that.
It’s not easy to focus on the drive when his mind is in such a whirlwind and his eyes keep glancing back at the note in your lap, that you folded back together again.
You aren’t looking at it any longer, your eyes are focused on the road and the passing trees.
“What do you plan to do with that number, Blondie?” He asks, unable to hold back and hide the jealousy this time.
You narrow your eyes at him, taking a look at his hands, you see how hard he is gripping the steering wheel when you take in the sight of his knuckles. The veins in his hands nearly popped. You gulp as your eyes move along his arm, muscles that are hidden beneath the black sleeve of his shirt peeking out just a little, his cheeks are red, his jaw clenched.
He is angry, but a part of you can see through your insecurities.
It’s not only his ego that was bruised, it’s not only the anger that shines through, there is more, so much more.
The jealousy that only you ever felt is lingering in his eyes.
He is jealous.
Steve is jealous over you.
And there is really no reason for him to feel that way, but you can’t stop the rush of excitement and happiness that floods through your body.
If he felt that way before he dragged you into the bathroom, over an innocent conversation, what will he do now that Jacob has made an entirely new move?
Will you get another taste of what he gave you before?
Will he call you baby again?
You’re stepping into a dangerous territory, you know it, but the thrill over it makes heat pool in your stomach.
“I don’t know, Lego Head,” you shrug, trying to keep a straight face as you look at him, “maybe I’ll keep it… You know, for when you don’t answer your phone.” You lie as you pick the note back up.
Steve huffs, shaking his head in disbelief.
He rolls down the window, giving you no time to react, he snatches the note from your hand and wastes no second to throw it out onto the road, letting it get lost in the darkness.
“Hey!” You gasp as your eyes widen.
“Whoops, my hand slipped,” he flashes you an innocent smile as he closes the window again.
“What if I want to call him!?”
Your question makes him grip the wheel even tighter, knuckles turning white.
“You don’t need him,” he mumbles.
You sit up straighter, raising your brows at him, “oh really? I don’t? Why’s that?”
Steve can’t take it any longer, the feelings inside of him boiling over, controlling all his actions now.
He pulls the car off the main road, and drives into the isolated wooded area that leads to a stream, a hidden part of Lovers Lake that he only ever came to when he needed to clear his head.
He slams his foot on the brakes and turns off the car, turning off the lights and unbuckling the seatbelt, he turns to you in anger, “because you literally just said no one can fuck you like I can!”
Your heart begins to race, goosebumps rise on your skin, and you press your palms against the leather seat beneath you. The giddiness inside of you is now so difficult to keep hidden.
“Ah, so that should make you exclusive,” you smirk, tilting your head to the side, “okay, well, maybe he got better–”
You don’t even get to finish your sentence, you don’t get to taunt him anymore as he turns his back to you and gets out of the car, slamming the door shut and rounding the car to get to you, he rips open the door on your side.
“You don’t learn, do you?”
“W-What?”
“Get out.” He demands, not nicely.
You frown at him, watching his stance and how angry he looks at you.
“What the fuck–”
“Get out,” he repeats, in a much calmer yet angrier voice.
You shiver at his command, and you take a deep breath as you unfasten your seatbelt, your heels hit the grass as you get out of the car. Steve places his hand on your back and pushes you out of the way so he can close the door before he opens the one to the backseat. He glares into your eyes, “get in.”
Your frown transforms into a look of complete confusion as you look between his hand and the seat that he points at.
“You’re making me change seats?”
He steps closer to you, “get the fuck inside, right now.”
The demanding, aggressive tone in his voice doesn’t make you question him again, you swallow harshly and turn around, you place your hands on the leather seats as you crawl inside, moaning in surprise when he smacks your ass again.
He chuckles darkly behind you, “you really like that huh?”
You glare at him over your shoulder, earning another slap to your other cheek, making you jerk and whine.
He chuckles again and follows you inside, closing the door behind him, “noted.”
The leather beneath you is cold, and you grip it tightly, sucking in a sharp breath, and just as you go to turn around and sit down, Steve’s strong hands grab at your hips, flipping you over and manhandling you underneath his body as he forces you to lie down on your back. He pushes your thighs apart, settling in between them, he presses his palms flat against the seat on both sides of your head.
A shiver runs down your spine, not from fear, but from excitement, because he probably didn’t want you to realize he was jealous, but he is showing you. He is clearly showing you and you can’t help but feel absolutely happy, accomplished.
You know that you’re in for something when you look into his eyes – you can’t even find the right words to describe the emotions that are lingering in them, but they make your inside flutter so wildly, you feel the need to clench your thighs together as he looms over you, but you can’t, he doesn’t let you.
His nose brushes against yours, his hair falls in front of his eyes as he inches closer to you, his breath kissing your skin.
“Has anyone ever put you in your place, Blondie?” He asks as he drums his finger along your shoulder, hooking it around the strap of your dress.
“W-What?” You stutter, hating how weak and shaky your voice sounds.
“I’m taking that as a no.”
Steve drags the strap down, and he leans down to press his lips against your shoulder, “I wanted to be nice, baby,” he murmurs against your skin, “wanted to take care of you, but fuck, you leave me no choice.”
You squirm beneath him, digging your nails into the flesh of your legs as you furrow your brows at his words.
His lips ghost over your collarbone, his hand now pushing your dress down a little, he exposes your chest to him, and he traces the outline of your breast before his fingers pinch your nipple, making you whine again.
“Time for you to understand–” He murmurs as he plants a kiss to your jaw, “-- that I’m the only one you need.”
His movements are soft, his touches are gentle but to your surprise, they don’t stay that way, after a few more kisses, he flips the bottom part of your dress over, bunching it around your waist, he hooks his finger around your panties and tears them off of you, throwing them over his back, not caring where they land. His fingers trace your legs, hands finding their way to your heels, he unfastens the straps around your ankles, and takes them off before he returns his attention to where you need him the most.
He teases you with his fingers, torturing your clit and chuckling darkly at the whines that start filling the space around you.
Steve had been intense and rough before, but one look into his face shows you that you will get more tonight, so much more.
He splits you open with his fingers again, sinking them into your soaked hole, he fucks you with them, he taunts you with his words and sucks more marks onto your skin, littering the other side of your neck and your chest with hickeys. He makes you see stars with the way he curls his digits inside of you and rubs your clit.
To your surprise and confusion, he doesn’t let you cum, he pulls his fingers out and stops touching you when you’re about to fall apart, just like he did before in the bathroom. Nothing like this ever happened before.
You don’t think anything of it at first, not when he seems desperate to fill you up in a different way. He fumbles with his pants and pushes them down, along with his boxers. He rolls a condom over his length again, one of many he has in the glove compartment because sometimes you two don’t even reach a bed when seeing each other, rushing to do it just as he did earlier, your mouth waters at the sight of his leaking, red tip.
“C’mere,” he murmurs, grabbing your waist and pulling your weakened body on top of him, you instantly reach for his shoulders, grabbing them tightly as he gives you no time to react before he makes you sink down on his cock – you don’t mind. You are so needy, so wet for him that your juices soak your inner thighs.
But you need to feel his skin on yours, so you reach for the hem of his shirt, and pull it over his head, he leans forward as you rip it off of him. You throw it on the seat and wrap your arms around his naked shoulders, pressing yourself against his hairy chest.
You are the first to start moving, rolling your hips and riding him slowly, but he isn’t satisfied with that, he wants something else, he wants more.
Steve makes you bounce on his dick, he holds your hips harshly and uses you as though you’re a fleshlight, filling you to the brim and slamming you up and down on his dick, fucking you rather disrespectfully.
He makes you fall forward, as your eyes shut at the roughness and the intensity. He is buried so deep inside of you, you’re not sure if you have ever felt this before. Tears blur your vision again that night, moans turn into whimpers and whimpers into cries, the pleasure so strong, so overwhelming.
You throw your hand against the fogged up window, slamming your palm against it, leaving a handprint there for him.
No words escape you, not even his name, the only thing you can do is fall limply against his body and hide your face in the crook of his neck as drool starts coming out of your mouth but the moment it touches his skin, Steve grabs the back of your neck and pulls you back to him again, so he can see your face.
“Does he even get to see you like this?” He grunts, fucking up into you and watching the way you squeeze your crying eyes shut. “Drooling? Crying? I bet I’m the only one you’ve ever been this cock drunk for… aren’t I?”
You nod your head wildly, panting and gasping as pain and pleasure mix together. He thinks it’s just physical, but there is so much more to it. You knew you would turn into this for him and just him, you’ve always known.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
Steve lets go of your neck, making you fall back against him, he decides to tease you more by smacking your ass, causing you to jolt and whimper, filling him with satisfaction.
He makes your pleasure the more unbearable, causing you to clench around him.
And just like before, just as you’re so close to reaching your peak, he stops your movements all together, filling you with anger now, making you snap out of the haze he put you into. He stills and grabs you tightly, so you won’t move, he lifts you up and off his cock, biting back a groan.
“W-What the fuck, Steve?” You cry out, “I-I was so close!”
His eyes are nearly unrecognizable when he squeezes your cheeks together with one hand, forcing you to look at him. The angry sight in front of you, only makes you clench around him even harder.
“You’re not cumming until I say so, Blondie.” It was stern, but Steve had a point to make, he needs to make it happen.
You aren’t even aware of what is going on inside of his troubled mind, you could never even guess, not even when he flips you over and throws you down under him, placing your left leg over his shoulder.
The position is quite cramping, but you forget about any kind of pain, when he sinks back inside of you and starts pounding into you with a force that makes the stars shine brighter and your heart race faster.
Steve is not even focused on his pleasure, despite how good you feel around him, all that he can think about is your pleasure. He gives his all, he gives everything to kill any memory of what any of your other hookups did to you, of the pleasure they made you feel, of the pleasure he once made you feel.
He snaps his hips into yours, fucking you so deeply and roughly, making his dick ache in pleasure.
He surely never fucked anyone this way before. He never felt this angry before.
He watches you closely, the way your pussy flutters around his dick, the way you grip the leather beneath you, nearly ripping through it with your nails as tears of pleasure stream down your face and you tilt your head to the side with furrowed brows, your tits bouncing as he slams you back and forth on the seats.
Your moans are so loud that anyone who were to pass by, would freak out and almost faint or call the cops.
He is not even touching your clit, not even grazing it with his fingers, not giving it any pleasure again… yet. But he feels your fluttering walls, how tight you are getting around him, how high pitched your moans are getting – you are close, so close.
And so is he, he keeps thrusting in and out of you, not tearing his eyes off of your beautiful face as he chases his own high, roughly and deeply. Your name falls from his lips, and his hips stutter as he finishes into the condom, groaning as your walls grip him tightly.
Steve pulls out of you reluctantly, stopping your pleasure once again.
He pulls your leg off his shoulder gently and places it back on the seat, giving it a squeeze.
His chest heaves up and down, he breathes heavily as he stares at you, biting back the chuckle when your eyes shoot open and a bewildered look crosses your face, the tears in your eyes still shining brightly as you raise yourself up on your elbows, frowning angrily at him.
“You– I’m going to fucking kill you, Steve, it’s not fair!” Your bottom lip trembles, you are clearly very frustrated with him.
He looks down to hide the amusement on his face, taking the condom off, he ties it up and throws it on the ground, making a mental note to throw it away later on.
Steve tugs himself back into his boxers and pulls his pants up, not bothering with his belt just yet.
He shakes his head at you when you squeeze your thighs together, hiding yourself from him. He hooks his hands around your knees, pulling you closer against him before he tears them apart again, exposing your glistening swollen pussy to him.
He licks his lips as he hooks your leg around his hip, holding it there as brings his other hand back to your center, he bites down on his lip, looking at you with mischief in his eyes as he delivers a slap to your clit.
“Wha– Steve!” You gasp in surprise and if he weren’t so determined, so centered on you, he would have been surprised by his action too.
“Don’t worry,” he murmurs, using his pointer finger to tease your slit, he spreads your folds apart, and slips his middle finger and ring finger into your sopping pussy, he focuses on your face.
Your angry features slowly relax again, mouth parting as he starts to move his fingers again, this time he does aim for your orgasm… and more.
He moves slowly at first, rocking his fingers in and out of you, moaning himself at the noises he draws from your pussy.
Despite the pleasure that you’re falling back into again, you grow flustered at the noises and raise your hands up to your face, covering it and hiding yourself from him, but your action only earns you another slap to your clit.
“Uh uh,” Steve shakes his head at you, letting go of your leg, he reaches forward and grabs both of your wrists with one hand, dragging your hands away from your face, “don’t hide from me.”
“But–”
He curls his fingers into your g-spot, tearing a gasp from you.
“No buts,” he grumbles, as he moves steadily, fingering your pussy roughly now. He angles his hand differently, the end of his palm now brushing against your aching clit every time he thrusts his fingers deeply into you.
He shuts you up quickly, making every word, every sentence get caught in your throat.
His left hand fondles your boobs, your waist, your stomach, your hip – he touches you everywhere, leaving every inch of your skin burning with desire. His fingertips dig deeply into your leg as he keeps you spread open, his thigh keeping your other leg from closing, as he abuses your cunt with his fingers that are much longer than your own.
Your back arches in pleasure, your sensitive core crying for more.
The feeling inside of you is different, new, but you aren’t surprised by it, he edged you three or four times tonight, tears of frustration fell from your eyes, those tears that are now caused by pleasure and sensitivity.
Your whimpers are so erotic to him, just like the wetness he can hear as he is knuckles deep inside of you, stretching you open. He can see the goosebumps on your skin and the way your stomach tenses up, the way your breathing stutters.
You are in bliss, he can see it on your face, there is not a single thought in that pretty head of yours.
He leans down, pressing into you as he inches closer to your face, pecking your lips, “no one else can make you feel like this… no one.” He whispers against your lips, placing another kiss upon them before he moves to your marked up neck, ghosting over it and inching down to your chest, trailing kisses along the way to your boobs. He wraps his lips around your nipple, looking up at you, he begins to suck, adding more pleasure to your body.
You belong to him.
“Steve!” You whimper, throwing your hands into his hair, you let your fingers get lost in it.
He moans against you, quickening the pace of his fingers, curling them even harder inside of you, making you shudder at the feeling, jolting even when he presses his thumb against your swollen clit.
You tremble beneath him, the wave of pleasure being so strong that a sob falls from your lips, your fingers curling into his hair roughly, “fuck… baby,” you whine.
A surprised whimper falls from his own lips, the nickname stopping every thought in his mind, for a second.
Baby, Baby, Baby…
No one has ever called him that, no one. The fact that you are the first, somehow makes it better, and he doesn’t even know why.
The coil inside of you grows bigger and bigger, an unfamiliar feeling bubbles in your lower stomach, making drool form on your tongue and stars blur your vision. Your nerves feel as though they are on fire, your skin prickling as he fucks you roughly.
“I-I’m so close,” you whimper and scrunch your face up as you move your hips a little, meeting his thrusts.
He is so lost in you and your moans, he doesn’t even realize that he is biting, tugging on your nipple with his teeth until a new, higher moan escapes you.
“O-Oh my god,” you whisper shakily as your eyes roll back, “S-Steve! That feels so good!”
“Yeah?” He murmurs against you, lips returning to your neck, he pecks it a few times as he looks down, watching the way your thighs tremble, the way the muscles in your stomach tense so tightly and your chest rises up and down so much heavier than before, “your thighs are shaking so much… holy shit.”
The pressure inside of you becomes so overwhelming, it feels a lot, it feels too much.
“S-Steve,” you tremble, “t-that feels weird.”
Your voice sounds so small, unsure, yet the moans won’t stop escaping you.
“No, baby, you’re doing so good,” he whispers as he lets go of your leg, bringing his hand up to cup your cheek, he wipes your tears and brushes your hair out of your face, pressing his thumb against your bottom lip, “just trust me… let go for me.”
You can’t bring yourself to open your eyes, not even when he starts peppering your face with kisses.
The pleasure is too much, the pressure makes you panic slightly, but he doesn’t stop, if anything, he fucks you harder and faster with his fingers, keeping them curled inside of you, his palm keeps brushing your overstimulated clit. He is hoping to get what he has been seeking. You haven’t trembled this much before, and he is confident, he is so confident that you won’t forget this, that you won’t forget how he made you feel, that you won’t forget him.
“C’mon,” he murmurs against your lips, “I know you want to.”
Your bottom lip shakes, the pressure threatening to explode inside of you, every inch of your body now burning and quivering.
You let go of his hair and throw your hand down to wrap your fingers around his wrist, your eyes open, and you look at him through your blurry vision.
Your moans and the squelching that gets louder and louder, sounds that are like music to his ears, making his stomach flutter and his dick twitch again – to his own surprise.
“I-I can’t– too much, Steve!” You whine, nearing an edge you have never touched before, “I’m gonna–”
You never get to finish your sentence, because as Steve plunges his fingers in even deeper, and curls them harder. You can only throw your head back, a mix between a squeal and a whimper falling.
Steve nearly stops all of his movements when you clench around his fingers like a vice.
Your hips jerk upwards as liquids shoot out of you, and he gets to where he wanted.
“H-Holy shit–”
Steve’s eyes widen, a chuckle of amusement and excitement leaving his lips, he stares at you in awe. Surprised at the tent in his pants, he is rock hard again.
He keeps pounding his fingers in and out of you, not stopping his movements just yet. With a smirk, he leans down to kiss your cheek, cooing at you, “you’re such a good girl for me.” He says possessively.
Your walls unclench around him, and he thinks it’s all, when you suddenly clench again, tighter than before, another shockwave rushes through your body, and you squirt even more, the leather beneath you becoming even wetter than before.
Steve’s hand is drenched, up to his elbow, and so is the front of his jeans, his stomach and the window behind him. The evidence of how good he made you feel is all over his seats, filling him with pride.
A satisfied smirk plays on his lips, he feels like he’s on top of the world, he feels like a fucking king again, knowing that he brought such pleasure to your body.
He never even thought that this was possible, that this move in porn movies is nothing but a myth, but he had to try, he had to try it with you. It would have shamed him before to admit he had been watching more porn than usual just to do the things he sees with you, but now? He feels like he is the most intelligent person in the world.
Your body falls limp, whines and whimpers still filling the space around you, tears roll down your cheek as you’re trying to catch your breath.
Steve pats your cheek, caressing it gently as he stares at you fondly, “hey, are you okay?” He whispers, unable to stop himself from pecking your lips.
You nod weakly, still needing a moment to come down from the high.
He keeps kissing you, playing with your hair as he caresses your skin, pulling his fingers out of you after a while, making you whine again.
You open your eyes, struggling to keep them open after the intense orgasm you just had. You look into his eyes, they’re filled with victory. A proud smile playing on his lips.
You raise your eyebrows when you notice the drops on the window, the wet seats, his soaked hands and the wetness beneath you.
Heat rushes up to your cheeks, embarrassment rushes through you and you can’t help but gasp as you look around the mess that you made. Tears blur your vision, “o-oh my god!” You say weakly, shakily as you start crying, catching him off guard, “I-I’m so sorry, Steve!”
You press your palms against the wet seats and push to sit up.
Steve shakes his head at you, he cups your cheeks and shushes you by kissing your lips again, “fuck, Blondie, don’t cry – holy shit, that was so fucking hot,” he chuckles, “it’s just leather, sweetheart. And honestly, this feels like a fucking victory to me.”
You blink through your tears, looking at him with big and glassy eyes, your heart still pounds in your chest, shame swirling deeply in your chest.
“Really?”
He nearly faints at the look in your eyes.
Who would’ve thought that Steve would ever get to see you like this or that he’d get to be the one to make you come undone so intensely?
You are so vulnerable, right now. It tugs at his heartstrings, knowing that you struggle with emotions, that you hate showing weakness and tears – yet here you are, even if it’s only out of shame, it shows him that you trust him, even if only a little.
You’re unaware of the fluttering in his chest that you cause, the warmth around his heart as he stares at you. He traces your cheek before he slips his hands down to your waist.
You look so fucking cute.
How can he not adore you when you look at him like this?
He gulps as he is completely aware of the way his heart feels.
You’re going to be a problem, that’s for sure – but he can’t find it in himself to care, not now.
He sits back and pulls you along with him, dragging you into his lap, he surprises you by wrapping his arms around your shaking, hot body. He pulls you into him so he can hug you, he cups the back of your head and makes you relax against his chest. He presses a kiss to your forehead, feeling the need to treat you gently, sweetly.
Your breath hitches in your throat, his actions doing nothing to calm your racing heart.
It takes you a moment, but eventually, you calm down and close your eyes as you bury your face in his bare chest, his hair tickling your cheek a little. Steve runs his finger up and down your spine, making your heart race.
Your body is aching, your legs are trembling, you nearly squeal when his crotch brushes against your center as you try to move closer to him.
“Wait,” he whispers, he grabs your waist again and changes your position, moving both of your legs over his thighs instead, so you don’t have to straddle him, and then, he pulls you back into his chest again. He brushes his fingers against your upper arm, stroking your skin softly, “is that better?”
You nod.
“Good,” he whispers, letting all his emotions guide him as he presses a kiss to your temple.
“Y-You made me squirt,” you whisper, blushing.
He chuckles, looking down at you and the way your cheek is pressed against his chest, “yeah Blondie, I made you squirt. I never did that in my life, you never did that in your life, we should put a memory plaque here.”
Finally, a giggle falls from your lips, and you look up at him, amusement shining in your eyes.
“I need a shower and sleep for like… three days straight.”
Steve chuckles, squeezing you tighter, he finds himself liking the feeling of holding you this way, he can’t help but want to pull you closer.
“I’m happy to provide all that for you,” he smiles down at you.
Steve likes to see you in his clothes, he likes it when you take showers at his place and make his bathroom smell like your shampoo and your sweet body wash.
He missed it last night.
He clears his throat, his smile falling a bit, “why didn’t you uh… call me the past two days?”
You hesitate, not wanting to show your face to him, you keep your head down.
“Oh uh… I felt sick, nauseous, probably because of something I ate, maybe it was Eddie’s attempt at the homemade burrito…”
Steve’s mind was plagued with ugly thoughts after seeing you with Jacob, but this is beginning to ease his mind a little.
“Wait so,” he blinks, sitting up straighter as he continues to look down at you, “you were home?”
You nod, meeting his eyes, “where else would I be?”
It’s not exactly a lie, but it isn’t the whole truth either. You had an appointment in the morning, one that you had been nervously awaiting for weeks.
The tension that remained leaves his body completely now, relief rushes through him, making him relax fully.
“I thought… since Jacob was back–”
Your lips part in surprise as your eyes widen, before a smile appears on your lips.
“Aw, is Stevie jealous and worried that someone is going to take his place?” You ask him, taunting him a little.
Yeah, he actually is.
But he can’t tell you that, can he?
He pinches your ass with his fingers, a smirk tugging at his lips, “don’t get all bratty now, or I will show you how no one can replace me… again.”
You’re a little taken aback by all the comments, by his actions today, by the softness of his touch, right now. He didn’t fight you on it. He just told you to not be bratty instead of telling you to stop thinking that way.
Today, he treated you as though you were his.
He acted out of jealousy and was possessive over you, and in the end, he pulled you into his arms, treating you with such gentleness that it will surely leave a stain in your heart forever.
This is dangerous, he is dangerous.
He is giving you a glimpse of something that you will never have.
He is showing you colors, you can’t ever see with anyone else.
And maybe, this should be enough to make you run into safety, to protect your heart from the pain it will suffer when it’s all over.
But in what world, would you ever run from him?
You know how this will end, but it won’t stop you from kissing his lips and letting him into you.
He can break your heart and shatter your soul for all you care.
It’s all his anyway.
-
Eddie looked all over for you, the backyard, the kitchen, even the bathroom and the bedrooms, he was sick with worry as he searched for you. He got distracted when Robin forced him into a game of beer pong, with Argyle and Vickie, and lost sight of you.
The girl ended up calming him down, when she told him that Steve took you home, you looked sick apparently. But Eddie knows better than that.
He knows deep in his gut that his suspicions were right, that he wasn’t thinking into it too deeply.
On his way out of Vickie’s house, he bumps into someone, turning around to apologize, he finds a very drunk Jacob, he raises his hands up, slurring out an apology, but then a confused frown appears on his face when he seems to recognize him.
“Munson, you’re friends with her, right?”
“Huh, with who?” Eddie mumbles, tilting his head.
Jacob says your name and Eddie blinks a few times and slowly nods, “best friends actually, what of it?”
The tall jock smells like beer and weed mixed together as he steps closer, invading his space a little.
“Well, I mean, is she dating Harrington or something?” Jacob asks, shaking his head.
Eddie raises his eyebrows, curiosity sparking inside of him.
“Um…” He could say no, he definitely could, but Jacob seems like a source of information right now, and he decides to use this opportunity to find out more, “what makes you think that?”
“Well, the fact that this guy cockblocked me two times tonight is the main one. Tried flirting with her and he just pulled her away and even dared to glare at me as if I were the one interrupting his conversation, man." Jacob is slurring, rambling, and he just looks like a guy that lost the opportunity, not someone who would push you into a date or something.
But Eddie is stunned by the revelation, so he pressed forward.
“Two times?”
“Yeah, the first one he took her somewhere as soon as I started talking to her, and the next he interrupted us so he could leave with her... Say sorry to Harrington for me, she didn't tell me she was dating him,” he mumbles, waving his hand as he rolls his eyes and steps.
Eddie’s gears work, trying to figure out a way to confirm all of this, but for now, the information is enough, his suspicions only growing with certainty. A small honest smile appears on his face and he pats Jacob on the shoulder.
“Thank you Leeney. I'll make sure to let Stevie know.”
The blond nods and steps away, giving him a weak smile before he walks off, leaving Eddie by himself.
His dark brown eyes flash with understanding and realization, a laugh of disbelief falling from his lips as he puts all the puzzle pieces together.
He brings his hand up to his chin and shakes his head when he thinks of the marks on both yours and Steve’s skin.
A scoff falls from Eddie’s lips.
“Chandler and Heidi, right.”
♡
tagging friends and mutuals
@prettyboyeddiemunson @mysticmunson @taintedcigs @joekeerysmoles @ibellcipem @maroon-cardigan @sherrylyn628 @corrodedcorpses @munsonlore @munson-mjstan @agirlwholovesrockstars
#my writing ♡#dwoht#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington angst#steve harrington smut#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington drabble#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington imagine#stranger things angst
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TWENTY TWENTY VISION — m. atsumu x gn!reader
sypnosis: atsumu needs glasses, but why on earth would he make his & your life easier by wearing them?
warnings: i'm gonna beat the shit out of atsumu oh my GOD he irks me so bad, post-timeskip atsumu, eensy bit of angst if you squint super super hard, osamu mention, i can't write the miya accent™ for the life of me but i tried so sorry, petnames such as baby used, he calls the reader pretty
notes: inspired by the fact that i just recently got my new glass and haven't had a pair since i was 14 so seeing the world focused fucks with me a lil bit, ALSO, atsumu with glasses has been flooding my brain, osamu is farsighted cause i said so
"I'm not wearin' 'em."
"Atsumu, please, you need to wear them, you have astigmatism in both of your eyes! And you're nearsighted!"
Atsumu lets out a soft huff as he crosses his arms, as if he isn't the reason you've been having this argument essentially since you brought up him even getting his eyes checked.
It all started when Osamu had gotten new glasses, that's what Atsumu thinks anyways, that this is all stupid Samu's fault.
Osamu came over one afternoon for a harmless visit, with new glasses on. You had asked Osamu about them, and commented that you never knew he needed glasses to which he responded:
"Oh yeah, me and Tsumu both do, he just hasn't worn his since junior high."
You swear you've never seen Atsumu react so quickly, his head snapping to Osamu and immediately telling him to shut up through gritted teeth. The subject gets dropped instantly, but now you're giving Atsumu side-glances throughout the night until Osamu leaves.
After you two are settled into bed and Atsumu is almost asleep, until your voice rings out in the dark.
"Is that why you squint so much?" you ask in a voice barely above a whisper.
"...What are ya on about?" Atsumu asks, turning to face you with a soft expression.
"Is that why you squint so much?" you ask again, "Because you don't wear glasses like you're supposed to, so the world's all unfocused for you all the time, is that why?"
Atsumu's silence and stunned expression is all the answer you need.
"That's what I thought," you mumble before turning away from him, "your eye appointment is Saturday at four."
And that puts Atsumu where he is now, sitting at the island connected to the kitchen in your small apartment, staring down the thick black lenses as if he was trying to explode them with his mind.
"I said, I ain't wearin' 'em," he huffs again vehemently, looking at you with an unwilling expression, "and that's final. I don't need no stupid glasses, I can see just fine."
"Oh yeah?" you challenge, palms resting against the island as you stand on the opposite side of it, "If you don't need your glasses, read the paper on our fridge. Without squinting."
Atsumu's face goes a little pale, his eyes widening slightly. He looks over your shoulder at the paper held onto the fridge with a stupid magnet in the shape of a volleyball.
"It, uh..." he trails off, trying to not squint as much as possible, "...it...it doesn't matter what it says! I'm still not wearin' those glasses! I don't need 'em!"
"Atsumu that paper is no more than four feet away from you, and you can't even tell me what the bolded title says," you responded in an almost pleading tone, "baby, you need your glasses, so I am begging you, please put them on."
Atsumu's face softens slightly at your pleading voice, before it turns unwilling again as he looks down at his arms and mumbles something you can't quite make out.
"What was that?" you ask.
"...They make me look dumb," he repeats a little louder, looking back up at you, "they make me look like an idiot, and since my eyes aren't used to being focused, I feel like a baby deer learnin' how to walk."
"Tsumu," you reply gently, your own expression softening, "if you didn't like the way glasses look, why didn't you ask for contacts?"
"Because they scare me," he rebuttals, "which I know is stupid because they're an easy solution to my problem, but they rip and get stuck and...I don't know, that just scares me."
You stare at him blankly before taking a deep breath, "Atsumu," you start, "I'm not...trying to make you look stupid, okay? I just know that you need them, and you know that too. It might be awkward at first, but won't it be worth it to see the world a little more clearer? So you won't have to squint to read traffic signs or drive through menus? And, glasses aren't a permanent solution, we can work our way up to contacts, but you need to wear these for now."
Atsumu looks down at the glasses again, letting out another unsure sigh as he picks the thick rims up, and places them on his face.
It's weird at first, everything is clearer. The titanium fridge, that stupid volleyball magnet and the paper it holds, and more importantly...
You.
The way your entire face shifts into focus leaves Atsumu speechless. He knows how pretty you are, he doesn't need glasses to see it, but god do they make it better.
You give Atsumu a weird look, "What?" you ask puzzled, "Can you see better?"
"Yeah," he responds with a small smile, "I can see real good, pretty."
#love letters from leo#my dearest haikyuu#atsumu x gn!reader#atsumu x reader#atsumu drabble#atsumu fluff#haikyuu x gn!reader#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu fluff#hq x reader#hq x gn!reader#hq fluff#haikyuu drabble#hq drabble#atsumu miya x reader#atsumu miya x gn!reader#atsumu miya drabble#atsumu miya fluff#wear your glasses or contacts kids
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