#chubby lip pencil
Text
Essentials Best Seller Kit by Pur Cosmetics. Product gifted by Pur Cosmetics in exchange for reviews via the BeautyTap review program. Reviews now up on my profile here. The only thing not a part of the Essentials Kit is the chubby lip pencil at the bottom. The kit includes the bag, mascara, primer, foundation powder, and a brush for $36. To be honest for anyone trying to create their own makeup kit and are just starting out, these are all products I would suggest to build it. Doesn’t have to be from Pur Cosmetics specifically, but it’s a good starter list. Although the Kit by Pur Cosmetics is reasonably priced.
#original post#beautytap expert#pur cosmetics#essentials kit#chubby lip pencil#makeup brush#powder#makeup primer#powder foundation
0 notes
Note
How would reader react to one of the PTO moms from the little ones kindergarten shamelessly flirting with dilf izuku? And how would izuku handle the situation?
You should definitely talk to my wife
DILF Midoriya Izuku x Wifey Reader
"Is that Prohero deku?" A new mom to the PA asked shocked as the Number One Hero stood in the meeting room, setting down muffins on the beverage tables.
Mrs Fujihara turned and nodded at the sight of the large green haired man. "It is indeed. He often comes just to pick up his kids or drop of beverages for our meetings. His wife is head of the Parents Association." She informed the new comer.
Mrs Akirizawa looked at the large man who wore clothes that clung to his muscular figure as a little toddler was strapped to his chest, living proof that if a man wanted to he would. She looked up and down the large hero before letting out a hum. "Maybe I should get myself aquiented with him."
Mrs Fujihara glanced over at Pony who held her youngest daughter. They both looked at each other with looks before turnign to look at Mrs Akirizawa. "I don't think you should do that. He's married." Pony spoke out.
"Happily so."
Mrs Akirizawa chuckles at their assumptions, moving her dark black hair back as she did so. "I'm married too. I just..." she shrugged as she looked at the Number One hero who was patting the back of his young little toddler as he looked at the display he had crafted himself. The large man offered his little one a high five which was met with a small chubby one, bringing a handsome smile to his face. She shrugged as she looked back to Pony and Mes Fujihara. "I just want to get acquainted."
Pony and Mrs Fujihara both watched her strut over to the location that Izuku was. Pony sighed as she shook her head, her blond hair moving with her. "We should plan her funeral." She said with a sad look.
Mrs Akirizawa walked up to Izuku with a smile on her face. "ProHero Deku?" The tall man turned around to look down at the tall woman. She stood in a pencil skirt with a tight button down, a few buttons open to show her cleavage. "I don't think we've met, I'm Akirizawa Sezune." She bowed at the waist.
Izuku smiled friendly. "No we haven't and please, I'm off the clock so I'm Midoriya."
She noticed that he didn't give a first name but she didn't comment on it. She smiled up at him adoringly. "It's so nice to see fathers come to such meetings. Often than not they stay away from schools unless it's reward ceremonies."
Izuku chuckled as he shook his head. "That's true but I'm just here as an accessory. It's the little ways I help my wife. She already has so much on her plate."
"Oh?" Mrs Akirizawa let out with a tilt of her head. "Is she a busy person?" She asked, glancing around to find you, but you weren't in sight. "It must be stressful having such a busy wife. She ought to be spending all her time on you." She let out almost with a worried look on her face.
Izuku stared at her for a moment before laughing and shaking his head, seeing the misunderstanding. "I'm sorry, I don't think I worded that correctly. My wife is busy because we do have 5 sons after all."
"FIVE?!" She let out surprised. "All boys?"
Izuku nodded proudly before looking down at Koda. "Yep. He's the youngest. Koda say hi." He moved the little boy's hand to wave at Mrs Akirizawa. Koda frowned at the woman, his bottom lip moving as he looked like he wanted to cry. He turned to look away from her. "He's shy." Izuku reasoned with a broad smile.
Mrs Akirizawa looked Izuku up and down with a soft smirk. She chuckled. "Well I can't blame her for giving you 5 boys. I mean look at you, any woman would be lucky to have such an attentive man like you." She motioned to him with a look that Izuku had seen before. "I'm new to the PA, and I could totally use a seasoned veteran like you to..." Her moved to hold onto Izuku's bicep. "Show me the ropes."
Izuku stared at her for a moment before putting on a tight smile. He was more amused than anything. And no doubt you had seen this wherever you were so he wasn't worried. He trusted you to deal with any person that tried to stake a hold of your man.
"I don't think I'm the best person to do that." He said truthfully, taking a step back. His eyes followed her as she took a step forward. "I'm just here as an accessory, I trust all the other mom's know more than me."
Mrs Akirizawa laughed. "Yah but you know how other women can be. Sometimes a man's touch is a what we need."
"I couldn't agree more." Stepping into the conversation was you. You stood in a beautiful white dress that made you look gorgeous. You wore a pearl necklace with the kanji symbols for 'Midoriya' on your neck. You forced a perfect PR smile on your face. "Midoriya Y/N, Head of the Parents Association for the Little Heroes Kindergarten." You introduced yourself with a bow.
Izuku stepped closer to you, moving to wrap an arm around your waist. His eyes stayed on you the entire time, clearly love stricken. "There you are, my love. I was missing you so much." He told you gently.
You turned to him with an eased expression. "Honey, I was just talking to Mina." You reminded him, looking at Mrs Akirizawa.
Izuku moved his hand to guide your face to look at him, a hand wrapping around your neck as he moved to give you a deep kiss. You couldn't help but sigh as you allowed his tongue in your mouth briefly. He moved back with a proud smile, kissing the side of your head as he glanced at Mrs Akirizawa.
Mrs Akirizawa stilled in fear as she was sure she saw a horrible glare for just a split second. Izuku turned to look at her with a smile. "You should definitely talk to my wife, she can give you the run through." He motioned down to you. He looked to you. "I'm going to round up all the others." He gave you a squeeze as he left the both of you together.
You smiled at the other woman with a hum. "You must be Mrs Akirizawa. I'm so glad you could join us. We love to say that every person we reach, is another family we have in our roster. My husband tells me that you wanted an overview of what we are about, don't worry, we'll explain it in the beginning of the meeting for all our new members." You informed her stepping forward, placing a hand on her shoulder. "A word of advice..." you leaned closer to her with a smile. "Don't even think about it. My husband is for me to acknowledge and you to ignore."
You walked right past her, heading to the others. You clapped your hands together. "Come on ladies! Let's get started."
"Izuku, how could she look at you like that!" You let out with a frown as you took off your jewellery as you sat in front of your vanity. "Looking at you like she's a fucking whore. You're a married man for fucks sakes!" Izuku chuckled as he walked over to you, silent as he watched you. You looked at him angry that all he was doing was chuckling. "And what's so fucking funny?"
He laughed at you, moving to wrap his arms around you. "How angry you're about this. I don't even remember her face and here you are so pent up." He placed a kiss on your neck with a hum. You sighed as you dropped your shoulders. "Remember, my love. You are my wife, Mrs Midoriya." He growled out against your neck kissing and sucking at your neck. "I put a ring on your finger. You are the one who gave me five boys." He looked at you in the mirror, his whispered words swirling your stomach and making you squeeze your thighs. "You are the one who I bury my cock in every night."
You sighed as you leaned against him. You felt his hand drag down to under your dress. You naturally opened your thighs as you leaned against him, your eyes settling on his reflection in the mirror.
He hummed at the sight of you. "Mrs Midoriya."
-Glitch1d
#midoriya izuku#izuku midoriya#izuku midoriya x reader#dilf midoriya#dilf deku#dilf izuku midoriya#dilf izuku x reader#midoriya x reader
607 notes
·
View notes
Text
DESCRIBING THE PHYSICAL ATTRIBUTES OF CHARACTERS:
Body
descriptors; ample, athletic, barrel-chested, beefy, blocky, bony, brawny, buff, burly, chubby, chiseled, coltish, curvy, fat, fit, herculean, hulking, lanky, lean, long, long-legged, lush, medium build, muscular, narrow, overweight, plump, pot-bellied, pudgy, round, skeletal, skinny, slender, slim, stocky, strong, stout, strong, taut, toned, wide.
Eyebrows
descriptors; bushy, dark, faint, furry, long, plucked, raised, seductive, shaved, short, sleek, sparse, thin, unruly.
shape; arched, diagonal, peaked, round, s-shaped, straight.
Ears
shape; attached lobe, broad lobe, narrow, pointed, round, square, sticking-out.
Eyes
colour; albino, blue (azure, baby blue, caribbean blue, cobalt, ice blue, light blue, midnight, ocean blue, sky blue, steel blue, storm blue,) brown (amber, dark brown, chestnut, chocolate, ebony, gold, hazel, honey, light brown, mocha, pale gold, sable, sepia, teakwood, topaz, whiskey,) gray (concrete gray, marble, misty gray, raincloud, satin gray, smoky, sterling, sugar gray), green (aquamarine, emerald, evergreen, forest green, jade green, leaf green, olive, moss green, sea green, teal, vale).
descriptors; bedroom, bright, cat-like, dull, glittering, red-rimmed, sharp, small, squinty, sunken, sparkling, teary.
positioning/shape; almond, close-set, cross, deep-set, downturned, heavy-lidded, hooded, monolid, round, slanted, upturned, wide-set.
Face
descriptors; angular, cat-like, hallow, sculpted, sharp, wolfish.
shape; chubby, diamond, heart-shaped, long, narrow, oblong, oval, rectangle, round, square, thin, triangle.
Facial Hair
beard; chin curtain, classic, circle, ducktail, dutch, french fork, garibaldi, goatee, hipster, neckbeard, old dutch, spade, stubble, verdi, winter.
clean-shaven
moustache; anchor, brush, english, fu manchu, handlebar, hooked, horseshoe, imperial, lampshade, mistletoe, pencil, toothbrush, walrus.
sideburns; chin strap, mutton chops.
Hair
colour; blonde (ash blonde, golden blonde, beige, honey, platinum blonde, reddish blonde, strawberry-blonde, sunflower blonde,) brown (amber, butterscotch, caramel, champagne, cool brown, golden brown, chocolate, cinnamon, mahogany,) red (apricot, auburn, copper, ginger, titain-haired,), black (expresso, inky-black, jet black, raven, soft black) grey (charcoal gray, salt-and-pepper, silver, steel gray,), white (bleached, snow-white).
descriptors; bedhead, dull, dry, fine, full, layered, limp, messy, neat, oily, shaggy, shinny, slick, smooth, spiky, tangled, thick, thin, thinning, tousled, wispy, wild, windblown.
length; ankle length, bald, buzzed, collar length, ear length, floor length, hip length, mid-back length, neck length, shaved, shoulder length, waist length.
type; beach waves, bushy, curly, frizzy, natural, permed, puffy, ringlets, spiral, straight, thick, thin, wavy.
Hands; calloused, clammy, delicate, elegant, large, plump, rough, small, smooth, square, sturdy, strong.
Fingernails; acrylic, bitten, chipped, curved, claw-like, dirty, fake, grimy, long, manicured, painted, peeling, pointed, ragged, short, uneven.
Fingers; arthritic, cold, elegant, fat, greasy, knobby, slender, stubby.
Lips/Mouth
colour (lipstick); brown (caramel, coffee, nude, nutmeg,) pink (deep rose, fuchsia, magenta, pale peach, raspberry, rose, ) purple (black cherry, plum, violet, wine,) red (deep red, ruby.)
descriptors; chapped, cracked, dry, full, glossy, lush, narrow, pierced, scabby, small, soft, split, swollen, thin, uneven, wide, wrinkled.
shape; bottom-heavy, bow-turned, cupid’s bow, downturned, oval, pouty, rosebud, sharp, top-heavy.
Nose
descriptors; broad, broken, crooked, dainty, droopy, hooked, long, narrow, pointed, raised, round, short, strong, stubby, thin, turned-up, wide.
shape; button, flared, grecian, hawk, roman.
Skin
descriptors; blemished, bruised, chalky, clear, dewy, dimpled, dirty, dry, flaky, flawless, freckled, glowing, hairy, itchy, lined, oily, pimply, rashy, rough, sagging, satiny, scarred, scratched, smooth, splotchy, spotted, tattooed, uneven, wrinkly.
complexion; black, bronzed, brown, dark, fair, ivory, light, medium, olive, pale, peach, porcelain, rosy, tan, white.
#writing prompt#writing ideas#writing tips#creative writing#writers of tumblr#writers block#writing things#writers#writing advice#characteristics#character description
20K notes
·
View notes
Text
Ice cream date
Theme : Fluff
Thank you so much for your request, anon! 🩷🫶🏻 A short break from angst before I start writing for another angst request! I loveeeee writing for dad!charles soo adorable! 🥹
﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎
“Charles?” You tilted your head to your side once your husband picked up the call.
“Yes, honey?”
You looked back facing your nail lady and pointed at the pastel lavender colour before bringing your phone back to your ear. “Can you pick up your little daughter from the daycare today? I don’t think my nail appointment would end in 15 minutes.”
“Yeah, of course. Don’t worry about her. Enjoy your day out with your friends, okay?Let me know if you need anything.”
“Thank you, honey! I love you!” You ended the call and went back picking different charms for your new nails.
﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎
“Dada!”
“Hey, baby! I missed you.” Charles crouched down and picked up his baby girl into his arms and nodded as an act of acknowledgement and gratitude to the daycare worker as he turned away to make their way to the car.
“Sir, may I have a word with you?” He turned back and raised his brow in question to the sudden interference.
“Yeah? Yeah, sure. Is there anything wrong?”
Charles was told how his little girl was caught scribbled on her classmate’s notebook using her crayons. The notebook was actually used for kids and tutors for daily activities which required paper and pencils. Not only did his little girl scribbled on her classmate’s notebook, she also shred a few pages.
“We left the children a few minutes and came back to see the other student crying. And this is what she did.” She handed him the proof of crime and Charles was astounded. He had to continuously apologise on behalf of his daughter while Y/D/N kept on hugging his neck and giggling in his arms, completely oblivious to the informal parent-teacher meeting.
“Dada, I want choco this time!” She squealed in her car seat, elated for her daddy and daughter ice-cream date which had become a ritual every time Charles picked her up.
“No ice cream this time, baby.”
“Eh? Why? But, dada, I want ice-cream!” She stopped clapping her hands and caught Charles’s gaze on her through the rear view mirror.
“You were not a good girl today so you don’t get ice cream. We are going home and there’ll be no movie night for you too.” Charles saw she jutted her bottom lips out and whimpered.
“Did you say sorry to your friend?” Charles looked back into the rearview mirror and saw she was wiping her tears off with her arms. “Baby, dada’s asking you. Did you say sorry?”
She didn’t reply as she kept on sobbing but she actually nodded to his question but Charles didn’t catch that so he thought she was ignoring him.
“No cartoon after this and go straight to your room. I’m telling mommy what you did today and she will scold you even more.” He had always been very gentle with her before she was even born. He never had a sister nor any girls from his family members. When you told him you were pregnant with a girl, you knew right away he would make her the centre of his world.
﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎
When you came home, Charles was in the bathroom while your daughter was nowhere to be seen. You usually would always came home with your husband and daughter cuddling on the couch watching Disney movies.
“Baby?” You had found her in her room with puffy eyes. Sitting on her little bed, you brushed her hair away from her face and she hugged your middle. “Who made you cry?” You cupped on her chubby cheeks and softly rubbed your thumbs across her cheekbone, wiping the freshly tears away.
“Dada hates me…”
“Who said that? He loves you so much, baby.”
She ended up telling you everything that happened, which made her cry again and you had to continuously wiped her tears and told her it was fine. You had learnt that she was upset because she was looking forward to her little ice cream date and was turned down by her dad without being told why. She was upset because she had never seen her daddy being so mad at her and she didn’t understand why.
﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎
“I missed you.”
You were making dinner when Charles hugged you from behind and you could smell the scent of lavender from his shower gel when he dropped trail of kisses on your neck.
“Did you get into a fight with your other girlfriend?”
“What?” He broke the hug and went to your side, leaning against the kitchen counter with a frown. “Did she complain to you? Honey, she ruined her classmate’s notebook. How can I not ground her.” He stole a slice of mango that you were cutting and you slapped his hand away.
“Did you actually ask her what happened?” You raised your brows when he looked dubious to the questions.
“Did she tell you what actually happened?”
“Yeah, she did. And I think you are in trouble this time, honey.” You took a slice of mango and put it in your mouth, chewing it while looking very thrilled meanwhile your husband looked like he was going through every single possibilities in his head.
“Oh! Hi baby! Are you hungry?” You exclaimed when your little girl approached your little time with your husband with her fluffy friend, Mr. Boo.
“Baby, do you want to set the table with dada? Like always?” He crouched down and stretched his arms, expecting her little girl to come running as she usually did but she didn’t. She went to your side instead and hugged your leg, struggling a little when Mr. Boo almost slipped off her little arms.
“Oh, shit.”
“Language, Charles!” You glowered at him. “Baby, let daddy set the table alone while you helped me stir the soup, alright?” You picked her up as she shrieked with laughter, leaving a peck on your cheek and tried to grasped on the ladle, completely ignoring your husband.
“Can I get a kiss too, baby?” Charles went to her side and leaned in to kiss but she quickly turned her head away, hiding her face in your neck. “Honey, help me here.”
“Don’t involve me.”
Charles didn’t get a kiss and he stopped asking when your daughter got into a fit crying as she got annoyed from the constant bugging. When she walked to the dining table, Charles pulled the chair by his side, as she usually wanted to sit by her daddy but this time, she went straight to your side. You had to hold your laugh seeing your husband looked defeated with the constant ignoring game.
“Baby, say ah!” He cut the steak into a smaller piece and stretched out his arm that was holding the fork to feed his little girl but she shook her head without looking at him.
“No thank, dada.”
“Wow, I just got rejected over and over. Honey, can you–“ You shook your head without letting him to finish his questions.
“I can’t help you, Charles. Serve you right.”
﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎
You had left your little girl alone in the living room while she got busy munching on her animal shaped biscuits as you went to the kitchen to hug your husband from the back while he was washing the dishes, your head leaned against his body.
“Did she make you upset, honey?”
You heard him heaved a sigh which made you chuckle. “You are so silly. Just go and apologise, she’ll be fine.”
“Flirting you was way easier. Ouch!” He winced when you slapped him on his back. “Honey, she’s 2! Where did learn how to sulk like a literal teenage girl?”
“She probably learned it from me.” You leaned away when he turned his body around as he properly engulfed you back in his arms.
“Why did you teach her these bad things. Where is she, anyway?” Charles slanted forward to try to look for Y/D/N and you pulled his face closer to peck on his cheek.
“She’s eating her snacks. Go and talk to her, baby. I don’t think she’s still cranky.”
“Wish me luck.” He tilted your chin and brushed his lips on yours, patting your bum as he left the kitchen.
﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎
“Hi, baby. Can I get one?”
Her small hand was in a fist, full from grabbing the biscuits along with her little chubby cheeks. When Charles took a seat by her side and asked for one, she was contemplating, her other hand opening and closing as she looked on her little plate back to her dad. Once she came to a decision, she took two pieces of the biscuits and handed it to him.
“Can you feed daddy instead?”
She lifted up her hand and put the biscuits into his mouth, giggling when Charles tried to chomp on her hands.
“Are you still mad at daddy?”
“Not much. A little bit, I think. Is dada still mad at me?” She pinched her chubby fingers together and scrunched her nose while answering the question.
“Daddy’s not mad at you, baby. I’m sorry, okay? Can you forgive me?” He swept off the crumbs on her cheeks with his hand as she put another biscuits into her mouth.
“My friend ruined my book first, dada.” She wept the back of her hand against her cheeks and Charles immediately leaned in to stole a peck on her cheek. She looked like a little chipmunk, he couldn’t not kiss those little face.
“What else did your friend did, baby?”
“She threw my book away and I was upset so I did bad things back to her. But I said sorry to her.” Charles’s heart was swollen with guilt when he saw her little pout.
“Next time, don’t do that to others. Just let daddy knows if someone’s being mean to you, okay? Are we good now, baby?”
“I think so.” She wiped off her hands once she was done eating and grinned. “I finished!”
“Can daddy get a hug?” She pushed her little chair back to move closer to her dad and wrapped her arms around his neck. Charles stood up with her in his arms and began attacking her face with kisses, making her laughed.
“Oh? You guys are back to best friends now, I see.”
“Mama!” She ducked down and pecked on your cheek as Charles pulled you closer by his freehand.
“You got crumbs all over your face, darling. Did daddy say sorry already?” You brushed off the leftover crumbs on her face and fixed her bangs.
“Yeah, dada said sorry to me.”
“Dada owe you an ice cream date, right, baby?” You poked on his waist, causing him to twitch.
“I want chocolate ice cream!” She squealed with exhilaration, causing both you and Charles to chortle.
“Can mommy come too?”
Charles shook his head immediately and turned your daughter away. “Mommy can’t come. It’s only for us, right?”
“That’s mean!” You scowled and slapped on his arm.
✧.* tags! @i83andrew @cltrlne @karmabyfernando @ohthemisssery @ru-kru @tastebaldwin @aundercover
please let me know if you would like to be removed or added in the tag list!
#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc imagine#f1 imagines#charles leclerc#charles leclerc imagines#f1 imagine#f1 x reader
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
i was made for lovin' you
fem!plus size!reader, 2.4k words
summary: the reader loves benedict bridgerton. when he dances the night away with her dear sister, she wonders if her love is perhaps... unrequited.
a/n: my initial note for this fic was: i was the chubby unpopular insecure girl in school. i'm still the chubby girl. and i need fluff today. so that's what's gonna happen.
i initially started writing this... last year. it's been over six months ago since i've touched this. the title is totally from the kiss song.
tw: bodily description, vague description of anxiety, momentary insecurity, but it's brief!!
Curves adorned your body in a way that remained otherwise unknown to so many others. Thick thighs hid beneath layers of clothing. Your stomach pressed against the fabric of your top, threatening to squeeze the very essence of life out of you. But you stood there, discomfort climbing its way up your spine, threatening to call you out for being a fraud. You lived in peril, awaiting the blossoming of the flower of insecurity and fear.
No gentleman would ever look your way, even with the most expensive of clothing. Liquid gold could be dripping from your fingertips, and not one of the men in the 'ton would give you the time of day.
At least, that is what you told yourself. That is what you had believed since the time you could register the fact that you were the thicker girl.
And it's not that you hated your body. No, that was far from the truth. You had come to love yourself in your own way, trying your best to live with what the world had given you. But you knew men, and you knew the gentlemen of the 'ton. You were treated differently, just because of your size.
You were different.
But he never treated you as if there was something wrong with you. No, Benedict Bridgerton was your dearest friend, but you couldn't help but feel as if he never truly cared for you in the way that you cared for him.
The way that you loved him.
You had yet to properly talk to him, knowing his elder brother hosted the ball of the evening. It wouldn't surprise you if Benedict was busy entertaining other gentlemen—entertaining your sister, perhaps.
The clothing you wore that night was flattering, for the most part. You couldn't deny that. Your mother had chosen well for the ball, keeping your mind at bay. She had impeccable taste, regardless of the crude comments that so often left her rouge lips. But despite the clothing, despite the restricting fabric, you couldn't help but watch and feel less than others around you.
Especially when you knew the man you favored was out there, fawning over your sister (not even liquid gold would work in her favor—she merely needed to raise a finger, and men would fall to her feet, begging for a chance to be hers).
The beautiful women who danced passed you, hand in hand with a suitor or with a dear gentleman. Their dance cards were nearly filled at this point. The stunning men wore beautifully tailored suits, sending smiles and small nods to those they spoke with. Well-rounded pencils would need to be sharpened before too long.
You stuck out like a sore thumb in the corner of the ballroom, drawing imaginary attention right to your very soul.
Your dance card rested in the palm of your hand, not a single gentleman's name residing on it. Like many balls before, suitors avoided you—or perhaps, you avoided them. Staying in your safety corner seemed to be the best bet, but you knew it would catch up to you (eventually).
There wasn’t a possibility for a suitor to come to you, unless he wanted whispers to be spread. You were an outcast.
You made yourself an outcast. But perhaps our worst enemy came from our very own minds, taunting us and keeping those we love far, far away.
Had you been your elegant sister, dancing the night away with the handsome Bridgerton boy amongst many other men, maybe you would have felt more comfortable.
Her card was completely filled, and now, she milled around with her friends, looking for a gentleman to speak with. The season wouldn't last forever.
And you knew it.
The season would be over in a heartbeat, and you would be left without a single name on your dance card.
How incredibly frustrating. You knew you were beautiful. You knew you had a grand personality, fit for that of a gentleman. You were smart and intelligent and you knew how to do so many things.
But standing here, you felt as if your clothing was choking you to the point of no return. It didn't matter that you could read a book in a day, or recite your favorite poetry. It didn't matter that you learned to cook from your favorite maid, or that you could write a piece of prose so beautifully it brought tears to your delicate sister's eyes.
Warmth flooded throughout your body. You hesitantly pulled up the fabric of your skirts and made your way to the crowd, finding the cool night in an instant. The chill of the breeze cooled you down the best it could, but it could only do so much for the roaring fire in your mind.
Your mother would surely have yet another snide comment about the fact that she did all this work just for you to avoid the crowd. Your father would listen silently, but you knew he agreed. He always did.
Your sister would yet again set on a suitor, her beauty and gracefulness the only blessing upon your family. She would be set for life while you die a lowly spinster.
Maybe she would bless you with a quaint cottage of your own. She'd be able to marry the richest man in the 'ton, if she was so pleased to say yes.
You walked closer to the fountain that sat in the middle of the courtyard, eyes closing as you came to a stop. The chatter and music from the manor wafted in the air, and the smell of freshly trimmed grass plagued your nose. Goosebumps appeared on your skin as the air around you only seemed to get cooler. Perhaps outside wasn't your best decision, but anything was better than the scrutiny of roaming eyes.
Solitude found you best, creativity striking you when you were all alone—most of the time. Today, it only brought you a fraction of the comfort you sought.
Despite your indiscretion, you weren't alone for very long.
"Lady L/n?" a voice came from behind you.
Your eyes shot open and you looked over your shoulder.
Benedict Bridgerton.
He had danced with your sister nearly three dances ago—you hadn't seen him since then.
He sent you a soft smile, relaxing when he saw you.
"May I ask what you're doing out here all alone?"
"I could ask you the same thing," you said. "Sir Bridgerton."
His smile only grew.
The two of you had known each other far longer than you would ever admit, and every time you saw him reminded you of why you fell for him to begin with. But he belonged with someone else—he would be good for them, and marrying into a family of money would secure the safety of the woman's future and her family's future.
You would take what you could get, even if it meant waiting until your father made you a match… if even he could manage such a feat. He quite hated the idea of society. It was your mother who pushed him into the world, making him do good by the ‘ton and his family name.
Benedict deserved someone good—someone who would boost his status in society, and always be there to love and care for him.
Many weren't so lucky with their marriages (your mother and father, for example).
"That's no way to talk to a gentleman, now is it? Whatever would your dear mother say if she were to find out how you speak to me?" he asked, feigning offense as he placed a hand over his chest.
"Trust me," you said, turning to face him with a soft smile. "I promise she will find little problem with it when she knows you are on Katherine's card."
"Hm," he tilted his head as he watched you. "And who have you danced with, Lady Y/n? I have yet to see you out on the dance floor tonight, and now I find you all alone. It feels as if autumn is already upon us. Surely you don't want to catch a cold as well?"
"I have danced with no one," you said, looking back at the fountain. "And you surely shouldn't be here with me, alone. Quite a scandal you'd create for your sister to cover up."
"Is that not why she is the Duchess? So I can create whatever scandal I dream of?"
You could practically hear the smug smile on his face, but you didn't turn to face him. Your arms hesitantly wrapped around your torso as you continued to stare at the flowing water.
"Y/n?" he softly spoke, coming to stand beside you. "Are you alright?"
His hand touched your cold arm and you immediately pulled away.
"Should you not be back inside with Katherine?" you asked. "It will be quite a scandal if you were to be out here with me."
He furrowed his eyebrows. "What is with you and scandals? Nothing of the sort will happen. I'd much rather spend the rest of the evening with you."
You frowned. "If you must, perhaps we should return inside. You should sign my dance card to keep my mother from asking questions."
"I would do so, gladly, Y/n, but I did not think you wanted me to do so," he said, eyebrows furrowed as he spoke.
"Why wouldn't I want you to?" you began, averting your gaze. "You know me better than I know myself."
He tilted his head curiously. "I do believe there are things I've yet to acquire," he said, gently taking your hand as he spoke. This time, you didn't pull away. "Whatever is the matter?"
"You are a dear friend, Benedict," you said. "I would never want to do something to put our friendship in jeopardy."
"Perhaps you will if you continue alluding me so. I asked you a question, my Lady."
A beat passes, the music coming from inside becoming light and jovial for the newest dance. Your sister was already dancing with another, enjoying herself and smiling all the while. Not that you could see.
"Y/n, please," he said, voice barely above a whisper—defeated, one could safely say.
"I care for you," you said. "If—if my sister is what you want, if she will make you happy, then by all means, you have my blessing."
He blinked slowly at you, lips parting to speak, but you speak first.
"I understand why you care for her so. She is beautiful, and she will be an excellent wife. She is so unlike me. She... she will make you so unbelievably happy, Benedict."
"Wait."
His fingers laced with your gloved hand as he gently pressed his other to the side of your face, making you look at him.
"Where is this coming from?" he asked, allowing his hand to drop. "Who said... who said I was interested in her?"
"No one. Nothing needed to be said for me to assume. Did I assume correctly, Lord Bridgerton?"
He chuckled softly, tilting his head as he watched you. "Not at all, my dear," he said. "You are so far from the truth that it is quite... comical."
"Comical?" you blurted, looking up at him in disbelief.
"Your sister was... helping me. I had planned to ask you in such a grand manner that I needed some assistance. Perhaps her planning skills would be far superior to mine when it comes to an event such as... well..."
"An event? What—what have you been planning, Benedict?"
His eyes softened. Were you blind? Or had he been so secretive with his feelings for you that you remained oblivious to the fact that he loved you more than life itself?
"Benedict, please," you said. "We do not have all night. They will notice we have left the party, soon enough."
"I wanted to know what would be best to ask you," he said.
"Ask me what?"
"To marry me, Y/n."
Time stood still. Big eyes stared up at him in disbelief, lips parted as you swam in an ocean of words, but nothing broke the surface. Was he serious?
"Benedict—"
"—will you marry me, Y/n?"
"I—"
"—I had planned on asking you soon, with flowers and a ring, and perhaps a grand occasion so the gentlemen knew you were taken, but—"
"—Benedict..."
He looked down at you, eyebrows furrowed. You were going to say no. He could see it in your eyes.
"You want to marry me?" you asked, hand holding onto his. "You... do you... I care for you, deeply, Benedict."
"And I, you, Y/n."
You searched his eyes for a sign—for an answer, perhaps. You had dreamed of this night for so long, and here it was, front and center. He cared for you. He wanted to marry you.
"I will," you said.
He released a breath, suddenly pulling you into his arms. You said you would. Yes. The answer was yes. Benedict would marry his best friend.
Benedict fought the urge to kiss you, despite knowing you would allow him.
“Let us return,” he softly said. “Perhaps you should inform your mother of your latest rendezvous.”
Your eyes widened a bit.
“Of course, I will be with you. Wouldn’t she enjoy seeing that?”
Your lips spread into a soft smile. “Yes. She would.”
Benedict took your hand and led you back to the porch. No one else stood outside.
“I will return first,” he softly said. “I will find your sister, and then, I will come and find you.”
“Oh, you do not want a scandal, dear Benedict?” you asked, a grin forming.
His eyes hardened as he looked back at you. “Would you like a scandal, Lady Y/n?” His voice betrayed the look he gave you, and instantly, his hard look dissolved into a smile. “Allow me to return. We will have enough gossip to go around once the news has broke in the ‘ton.” He took your hand again and pressed a kiss to your gloved knuckles. “Until we meet again.”
“I will see you inside,” you said, smiling all the while.
Benedict left you, and you waited merely a few minutes before you returned. You remained blissfully ignored, and for once, you appreciated the fact. You found your mother in an instant, and only when Benedict found you again did you tell her the news.
#benedict#benedict bridgerton#benedict bridgerton x reader#benedict bridgerton imagine#bridgerton fanfiction#chubby reader#fem!reader#x reader#reader insert#y/n#use of y/n#bridgerton#bridgerton x reader#bridgerton imagine#benedict bridgerton fanfiction
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
al haitham x (shy, nerdy and introverted) reader
warnings: explicit content, yandere elements, implied noncon exhibitionism, high key self indulgent, wrote this with the urge to touch grass
al haitham brainrot at 7 in the evening cause my head refuses to think of anything else (except diluc, he's a constant in my mind and heart <3)
i've read it somewhere on tumblr; (yandere) al haitham with a shy, nerdy and introverted reader. while the fluff made my heart melt, i can't stop thinking about the other end of the spectrum. (please let me know if you find that post).
minors do not interact!
al haitham, who finally gets frustrated of seeing the way everyone treats you and slowly starts slipping near you whenever he can, sending actual glares to everyone who dares approach you.
al haitham, who slowly starts asking you for help with his work when he notices you starting to panic a bit when no one approaches you for help anymore.
al haitham, the one who never concentrated on his surroundings when he was immersed into a book, now can't think of anything other than how your lips look wrapped around the tip of a pencil when you try to concentrate.
al haitham, who finally gives into his own urges to push the strand of hair that has been disturbing you since a few minutes, behind your ear, freezing as he notices you stiffen.
al haitham, who somewhat regrets blurting out his confession (in the most monotonous voice possible by a human being) the second you run out of the library. the regret that turns into pure exhilaration the next day, when you approach him with the request to give you some time.
al haitham, who waits months before getting an affirmative reply, taking it as his cue to kiss you on your lips - waiting to do it since the day his eyes landed on the pencil that was stuck between them.
al haitham, who finally gets to be the only one to taste your tea and witness your small, adorable smiles whenever you receive a compliment.
al haitham, who refuses to let you get up from his lap even if all the seats beside you are empty.
al haitham, whose hands start to wander once you get comfortable with his touch. they reach the most obscure places one can imagine, while his head too turns into a huge gutter.
al haitham, who is addicted to kissing with you on top of him, locking your hands behind your back with one of his own, while the other caresses your (chubby) cheek.
al haitham, who absolutely loves to take you on the corner of your shelf in the library, whispering assurances in your ear that no one is watching, even when he knows that someone is.
mostly just al haitham, who treats you like the most valuable book in a collection of rare ones.
©2023 by seineko @ tumblr
#alhaitham#genshin impact alhaitham#genshin impact al haitham#alhaitham x reader#alhaitham x you#alhaitham smut#al haitham#al haitham x reader#al haitham x you#al haitham smut#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact x you#genshin impact smut#genshin x reader#genshin x you#genshin smut#🐈⬛boba.drabbles
2K notes
·
View notes
Note
first of all CONGRATS ON YOUR AMAZING MILESTONE!!! Wowwwwwww I’m so happy for u 🥺💘💘💘 you deserve all the love and praise in the world!
𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞 + 𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞
plsss I beg 🥺 either for tasm!peter or miguel o’hara or even joel miller 😭😭😭 I’d think about idiots in love… both pinning for each other but too oblivious to the others feelings. everyone can see it but them. if you can make it super fluffy I’d dieeeeee. I’m obsessed with all 3 of them but tasm!peter will always have my heart <3
hope u have the loveliest of days sweet ! 💘💘💘
luveline's 40k party ☆
thank you so much baby!! have a good day too ♡ shy fat fem!reader
"I look weird," Peter says.
You bite your lip in surprise. Peter reaches for you like he might take your face into his hand, but you bow out of his touch. "No," you say, hissing at the sudden pain, "you look nice, you don't look weird."
"A haircut was a bad idea. Now you're injured," he says with a laugh.
You bring your hand away from your lip and find it unsullied. Peter wants to look anyhow, fighting you for a hand on your cheek. A couple of months ago you would've squirmed away from him, worried he'd feel the soft line of your jaw and drop his hand in disgust, but these days you let him do whatever he wants.
"Pout at me," he demands.
You, reluctant, poke your lip out. Peter has the gall to touch it with his thumb, seemingly unaware of the shiver it prompts. He smells like cherry gum today, a little wedge of it between his molars as he strokes your face and pushes you gently back into your chair. He's a sick individual, he doesn't even know what he's doing. Peter's joking and doting is done as your friend.
"What inspired the haircut?" you ask. He hasn't gone too short with it since his first year of college, but the cute little flicks under his ears have been chopped.
"Kept getting stuck in my hat."
"What hat?" you ask.
"My baseball cap."
"Since when do you wear a baseball cap?"
"Wouldn't you like to know," Peter croons, to the outrage of the women sitting across from you. They shush simultaneously, two pit vipers.
You put your head down, sheepish. Peter rolls his desk chair closer to yours as he chuckles under his breath, to copy your notes no doubt, which is ridiculous. He's the smarter of the two of you. He speaks in mathematics like it's English, chemistry something innate.
You knock your pencil into his hand, "Do your own work."
"But you've already done it for me." Peter moves your hand aside, his naked arm rubbing up against yours, rigid cord against softer fat. "Thanks, beautiful."
You roll your eyes at him but let him copy your work. After a few minutes you swear you can feel eyes on you, glancing up to find the pit vipers talking behind a laptop screen. They look at you at the same time and then quickly look away, spelling out for you what it is that's so interesting. People do this all the time, puzzling at you and Pete like it's insanity. The majority of people aren't as judgemental, but you can guess exactly what it is that they're thinking. Why is he spending his time with her? Handsome, muscled Peter and meek, chubby you.
It's not the most important thing in your life, but it is a constant. Some people think fat is unlovable, and the rest love without qualm. Peter hasn't ever once been mean to you since he met you; your weight can't bother him. If anything, you'd think he quite likes the way you look. Peter's always calling you beautiful, pretty girl, telling you to get changed before you put other girls out.
It's a shame he doesn't like you as anything more than a friend.
"I think those girls are looking at us," Peter whispers, pulling you toward him by the shoulder. It's not unlike him to touch you suddenly. "Is the haircut that bad?"
"It looks nice, Pete!" you insist.
He wraps his arm around your shoulder, rubbing his cheek against yours quickly. You choke through a laugh. "Daww," he says, "you're just saying that."
He giggles as you push him away, "Get off me, you loon," you say.
"You're the loon, loon," he says back. His cheeks are pinking. His sweater must be hotter than it looks.
"Can you just accept it, Peter? Your hair looks nice, you look great, stop worrying about what people think." You look away as you say it, startled by your own brazenness.
He gasps at you. "Hypocrite! You're the worst hypocrite ever, you're always worrying about what people think, and it's stupid because you're so pretty." He shakes his from side to side, eyes dramatically downcast. "Breaks my heart. A babe in denial."
"Stop kidding around, we have too many assignments for this," you beg, tapping your pencil under the remaining questions you've yet to answer.
"A babe in denial and distress."
You give up. He's overwhelmingly affectionate, homework sucks, and you're ashamed to know that if you flop down in defeat, he'll hug your arm. He always does. Diving into your space, Peter breathes cool cherry at your cheek as he says, "You know I'm gonna explain them to you until you get them, sweetheart. Don't stress."
You put yourself in this position, but his closeness has your heart skipping. "I'm not stressed."
"You're too cute to stress."
"Pete…"
"Sorry, I'll stop, I'm stopping. Pass your notebook, I'll fix your equation."
You pass him your notebook without looking up. You need a few seconds to collect yourself. "Thank you, Peter."
He sounds dangerously fond, the kind of tone that feeds your delusion, as though he could like you as you like him, "You're welcome."
#tasm peter parker#tasm peter x reader#tasm peter parker imagine#tasm peter parker x you#tasm peter parker x reader#tasm x reader#peter parker x reader#tasm!spiderman x reader#tasm!peter x reader#tasm!peter imagine#tasm!peter parker#tasm!peter parker x reader#tasm! peter parker x reader#spiderman x reader#peter parker oneshot#peter parker blurb#peter parker imagine#peter parker x you#peter parker x y/n#spiderman x you#spiderman fanfiction#luveline's 40k party
464 notes
·
View notes
Text
Day 3 Of Fictober 2023
Bimbo: Earth-42!Miles Morales
Prowler!Miles Morales x Bimbo!Chubby!Reader. Hcs
Just had a small idea, reader is kinda just like “Whatever” in this and is mostly blind to people being rude. Also I don’t know Spanish and I can barely speak English
Warnings: Body shaming, naming calling, bullying, slight sexual themes., bad Spanish.
Miles could believe his eyes the first time you walked into the class room. He was off in his own world, ignoring the teacher and playing with his pencil when the most prettiest girl walked into the class room, in pink and tighter clothes. Your chubby tummy poked out, your hips and waist making his mouth water, the breast on your chest almost falling out your shirt. Then your pretty thighs showing through the shirt your wear, your lower legs cover up by thigh highs.
He was captured by you.
Miles didn’t take his eyes off of you for the rest of the class. You giggled when you spoke and had a smile on your face throughout the day.
Luckily to say he introduced himself, though he wasn’t the nicest. Telling you to watch out because this was his halls and he didn’t need another idiot crowding his space.
“No worries, handsome. I wouldn’t get in your way,” you popped the gum in your mouth and didn’t even flinch at his words or tone. “Thanks, for the heads up.”
He watched you walk away with the same slip in your step, you didn’t even now he was being rude.
So he tried to test how much you could take. Like commenting on your outfit, saying rude things. “You got a stain right there.” But you just smiled and thanked him. Then he tripped you in the hallway, but you caught yourself before actually falling. “Pay more attention, Bombón.” You turned around and did the same thing you always did.
“Thanks, I need to pay more attention.”
Months went by of bullying you and it got worse over time, tugging at your clothes and hair. Calling you a idiot, or stupid because you got bad grades, or how you didn’t seem to notice things around you. He’d call you names for your weight, but he didn’t actually mean it because he loved that about you. He just wanted to get something out of you.
Until one day he pushed it to far. You had a rough day on the wak to school of girls making fun of you. Of course, they were jealous about their man’s and all the boys couldn’t look away from you. But when miles decide to bully you, it was over.
Miles frozen when he saw the tears pick up in your eyes and your lips quiver. Oh,he hated it. “Woah- Don’t cry.” His tone was confused. Then you walked away from him and out the lunch room in a hurry.
The rest of the day the look on your face haunts him. He didn’t even see you in the halls and it worried him, even if he hated to admit it. Miles searched and searched for you.
At the end of the day he waited for you out of the school and waited until you started to walk home.
Miles apologized for making you upset and offered to get you ice cream. “Didn’t mean it, such a pretty girl.” His hand pulled your cheeks close and ran his thumps over it. You blushed so cute in his hands.
“I want sprinkles.” He chuckled at your demanding voice.
“Anything you want, Mami.”
#miles morales x reader#miles morales 42#prowler x reader#prowler miles x reader#prowler!miles x reader#prowler!miles morales x reader#prowler!miles#across the spiderverse x reader#fictober23#fictober event
381 notes
·
View notes
Note
How about a jock jean or armin being absolutely obsessed with the chubby girl they sit next to on class. All they want is to bend shawty over on their desk. Sorry if this request is too much!!
it wasnt too much at all!! im just sorry it took me a long time to get to! hope you enjoy <333
minors do not interact !
cw: dubcon, vaginal penetration, male masturbation, school setting, breeding. (i suck at tags..) jean is delulu
wc: 2.2k
༊*·˚
the azure sky beams happily, engaging the scorching hot rays from the sun. its flaring heat dawning upon your smooth skin. it glistens, catching more burning gazes than the sun. you lay on your back, hands resting on your stomach, hand on top of the other. your head was comfortably placed on your friend’s lap. jean didn't seem to mind though, seeing how he was the one who insisted that you lay there.
you babbled about everything and nothing. unaware of the perverse staring that was happening just above you. your shirt was unbuttoned at the very top, revealing a slight tease of your chest. your chain is angled on your left tit. he can see the black worn-out bra you wore and it pisses him off. yes, it gets the job done in holding your perfect round tits but, you deserve something way more better than a ragged bra. oh, how he wished to spoil you with the prettiest of sets, with lace and frills. how he wanted you to wear them purely just for him. to fuck you and not care about your pleads of preserving the expensive pieces. he just wanted you in general.
his thoughts are brought to a stop when a bead of sweat trickling caught his eye. the formulated sweat adds more shine to your skin. something springing up in jean to just (italicize) lick you–
“you guys still out here? lunch ended a few minutes ago.” armin entered the courtyard. you and jean, for some reason, don't have the urgency to get up right away and this prompts armin to speak again. “i guess you two don't mind after-school detention,”
“armin do you need something?” jean sighs, obviously peeved. his body falls limp at the loss of your body. you had sat up from his lap. "hey, I'm just looking out for you," armin helped you up as you tugged your pleated skirt. jean’s eyes immediately watch the fabric fall onto your plump thighs. your thick alluring thighs. oh the things he would do to just have a single chance between them. to show you how much he cherishes and loves you.
“jean?”
your lips, and your voice, were just perfect.
“jean?” you call for a second time. this time your face is mere inches away from his. his air getting caught in his throat, erupting a few coughs from him.
your face was so close to him, that your noses practically brushed against the other. he could kiss you. he wants to kiss you.
“i swear it's like you have a crush on me,” you tease. he simply scoffs and gets up after you. he picks up the patterned blanket before folding it and leaving it in the pile of other used blankets. “let's not be delusional,” he picks up his bag, slinging it over his shoulder. and almost as if to prove a point, he walks over to a group of cheerleaders. you hear a cluster of giggles soon after. the sight alone made your skin crawl.
with your face now skin-up, you made your way to your last class for the day with armin.
he walks you to class and bids you farewell. you move to your seat, with your hands smoothing down your ass, and the skirt flattens for you to sit.
your thighs spill out of your seat, your ass hardly clothed from your uniform riding up. panties were just barely visible when you twist around for your pencil case from out of your bag. unaware of the lingering eyes, you prepare for the lesson.
jean enters the classroom, a smug look wearing his face as he sits himself down next to you. he whips out not one but several pieces of paper. “guess how many,” he swishes them around like they're paper fans but you pay him no mind. your body was somewhat turned away from him with your hand supporting your head. his ego was hurt by this but he didn't mind it in the slightest. this only gave him the chance to gawk at you more. and that's what he did throughout the rest of the class.
his eyes followed the pen that flew up to your lips. they were parted just enough for the end of the pen to fit between. showcasing just exactly how plump your lips were. two-toned and full. his mind couldn't help but wonder just how far you could open your pretty mouth. he wanted to find out. to see if he can fit all of him inside. would you choke? would you love it down your throat? just how pretty would you look with him occupying your mouth?
all these thoughts encouraged the blood flow that rushed its way to his cock. it hardens in minutes.
the pen bounced off one lip to the other before moving to the side of your cheek. your cheeks were so squishable and soft. one of the many parts jean adored other than your smile. your smile was sweet yet sickening. how could you smile at him after putting him and his cock through so much? the audacity.
not to mention the bouncing that was your thighs. they jiggled with every drop of your foot. it brings jean to think about–
your pen. it slipped out of your hands and landed on the floor. the sound echoed off of the cold tile, snapping jean out of his thoughts completely. your lips formed a pout, you looked so cute when you bent over to pick it up.
you bent over.
his cock visibly twitched in his pants. your ass. your perfect, fat, and round ass was practically on display. the panties barely did their job in covering you up, almost leaving little to no imagination. unfortunately, as quickly as it appeared, it was gone in a second.
the school bell rings, indicating the end of the day. the students pack up their things and leave.
“do you wanna get something to eat?” you zip up your bag. “yeah just let me get my wallet,” he quickly says. bag on his back, he finds himself the nearest bathroom and stall. leaving you stunned at your desk. “didn't he always carry his wallet with him?”
jean pants, happy to be out of your sight. he didn't want you to see him like this. needy. no, not yet.
he sighs once more, his heartbeat reverting to what it once was. his thoughts were a lot clearer, but the blank empty thoughts only brought thoughts of you. jean rethinks back to lunchtime. your head on his thigh and your blabbering had you oblivious to the actions that played just beside your head.
as he recalls it, he slides his cold sweaty hand down his pants, barely undoing his belt buckle in doing so. he hisses at his own touch. cock, still hardened, stiffens even more as he pictures your tits. fingers graciously yet, hurriedly ran across his slit.
your breasts just lay there so perfectly. what would it take to just have them in his hands? to hold? to suck and to mark. “shit,” he hisses once more. precum draining down the sides of his palm. his tip raging red.
and your nipples? just how sensitive are you there? rubbing your nubs in small circles before taking them into his mouth while his hand traveled your supple body. he pictured you being soft. super soft and easy to bruise. your smooth skin is silky at the touch.
your thighs are what he grips onto when his lips are locked on yours. hands wandering their way to your ass. fuck. your ass.
he so badly wanted his face between your ass. to taste you there. to bend you over right now over your desk. panties torn off to the side before slipping his fat cock inside you.
and that's exactly what he decided to do.
jean stops his movements prematurely and leaves the bathroom stall.
good. you're right where he left you.
“jean, there you are! you had me thinking you left.” your eyes light up as you beam. “you ready to go?” you ask, the opened fly of his zipper and unbuttoned school shirt catching your attention.
“jean?”
“yn,” he stood over you. eyes dimmed and cloudy. what had gotten over him?
you looked up at him with such innocence, it just made him mad.
“let me have you.”
it wasn't asking…and he wasn't demanding.
your eyes followed his lips and got closer to yours until they finally made contact. his lips moved so feverishly. his tongue wasted no time in finding yours. you weren't any better, encouraging this behavior by pulling his tall figure in. your plump squished onto his toned body– that you felt through his shirt. your hand rubbed up and down his chest eagerly. jean smiled during the kiss, ego growing with your curious hands. he took his hand to yours, slowly guiding it to his irate cock. you massaged over the large tent happily before being pulled away from kissing. you sigh out breathlessly. strings of saliva leaving you both. you're about to ask what the problem was when you're swiftly taken by the arms and thrown over your desk. the deed knocking the wind out of you, you smirk fervently.
“what took you so long?”
jean only whips his girth out. hands at the base of his dick, hastily moving up and down at the sight of the mounds underneath your asscheeks. the skirt had flown up on your back. exposing your bottom half in full. you had on a black thong that your cheeks devoured. it was as if you wore nothing at all.
you felt his eyes on your back. catching distinct heavy breathing. you sway your hips and hear it get more breathy. jean is pumping his fist greedily, watching you tease him like this. watching your hands grip your thong. taunting him by pulling the material so slowly down your thighs.
in one swift motion, he secures both of your arms behind your back, it slightly being arched. you whimpered. it all happened so fast. your shirt buttons were popped open, your thong torn and thrown off to the side, your left tit being held in his free hand, and his tip sliding into you. your face scrunched up in painful bliss as he entered your sopping cunt, a winded squeal leaving your sweet strawberry-glossed lips.
he wastes no time and thrusts his length into you. giving you no time to take it all in. he relentlessly drives his cock inside your warm leaky hole. in and out. your walls greet him favorably.
“fuck, fuck, fuck,” he spits. hands releasing from where they once were to your hips. your body lying flat on the desk. he pulls you back on him at every thrust. his belt buckle clinked with every hit against the desk. your moans were no help at all. they sounded so cute and pleasing to his ears. it's high-pitched and a little bit airy. maybe because he still hasn't given you the chance to catch yourself yet– your small hands held onto the desk for support. all the shaking and moving, you were scared it would collapse at any moment with jean’s vigorous movements.
luckily for you, he was on the verge of his climax. you feel him twitch uncontrollably inside you, his tip reaching places that drive you to the edge. he smooths his hand over your ass, grasping furiously at all the fat, landing hot ones on your right cheek just to watch the recoil. he’s so close to coming now.
“come inside me,” you whine. teeth nibbling on your bottom lip to fight off the tears.
he takes you up on your offer and pulls on your hair gently despite his greedy movements, you're back close to his chest as his pace increases. he fucks you like this until he cums inside you. his seed shoots up, filling you up to the brim. you flinch and squirm around at the sudden burst. his hot seed leaves you sensitive while it oozes out of your cunt.
both you and jean pants. it almost echoes throughout the classroom. you two stood still for a while before he inevitably pulled out. fat drops of cum drip down your thighs and onto the floor. you wince at the sudden loss and cold air. soon hearing footsteps leave the classroom. you stood up and found yourself in an empty classroom.
jean exhales heavily. stuffing his dick away in his boxers and pulling up his pants. he fixed himself to appear decent-looking before picking up his backpack, where he heard his phone go off.
“you ass. if you didn't want to buy me dinner, you could've said so.”
he reads the text you sent him and hurries out of the bathroom, rushing past the exit doors, he sees you.
“you still here?” he asks shamelessly, arm slung over your shoulder. you pay him no mind, rolling your eyes and pushing his arm off of you. “forget it, armin is treating me.”
“how about you forget him and just ride with me? just for today?” he throws his football jacket over you and you're almost touch. you don't say anything, pulling up armin's chat and texting your excuse and jean takes this as an answer. leading you to his car.
“trust me i’ll take good care of you.”
#anime x black!reader#x chubby reader#attack on titan x black reader#x black reader#jean kirstein#jean x reader#jean x you#jean x chubby reader
171 notes
·
View notes
Text
Like a Random Tuesday in December
steve harrington x afab!reader
words: 12,457
warnings: little bit of smut !! 18+ (minors dni) ; the smut is very brief so plsplspls do not expect a lot
summary: Reader had always had a crush on Steve, but he is not interested. Yet, when he starts to get closer to her, he realizes he made a mistake because it might be too late.
a/n: hiiiii. long time no see for a stevie fic... i apologize university is... you know. i started working on this since NOVEMBER of 22' i hope you can enjoy it, because i enjoyed writing it!
Y/n was five years old when she had her first kiss. She was part of the Dribbling Tots basketball team that her father had forced her to be part of. He had grown up as a sports guy, having met her mother at college while he played linebacker.
Although his first child was a girl, that didn’t stop him from doing whatever he could to make sure she would be the first woman in the NFL. Sadly, she was too young to join the PeeWee football team, so he had to settle for the next best thing.
But at five years old, Y/n didn’t understand the reason she was forced to play this game, and her fine motor skills were still below average, dribbling the really bouncy ball was hard. As an only child she wasn’t used to sharing her belongings either, so when a small chubby boy stole the ball from her, she crossed her arms across her chest and began to wail as loud as she could. Her father was one of the coaches and he tried to calm her down, but she wouldn’t budge.
The small chubby boy had come back to her, ball in his hand and held it out for her. The coach for the other team started to yell at him, “Steve, that’s not how we play basketball, son!” But the boy ignored him.
She sniffled, looking at the orange ball in his tiny hands. “That wasn’t nice.”
“I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.” He let the ball drop out of his hands and walked up to her, his innocent brown eyes nearly made her tears dry. His arms wrapped around her and she could hear the echoed “aws” from mothers watching. He broke apart from her but not without leaning in and placing a small kiss on her lips like she had seen her father do to her mother anytime she was upset.
One would think maybe that was when Y/n first had her crush on Steve Harrington. And maybe if she really thought about it, that’s when it began. Except, that stomach drop feeling and heart racing never occurred until the seventh grade on a random Tuesday in December. He had shown up to class late, rummaged through his backpack and sighed before looking behind him. She didn’t notice at first because she was etching her pencil into the desk.
“Hey.” He tapped his finger on the wooden desk.
She looked up at him, surprised, Steve Harrington hadn’t really talked to her since grade school. “Uh… hey?”
He gave her a charming smile, running his fingers through his hair which had recently been cut. “Do you have an extra pencil I could borrow?”
She had given him one of her favorite pencils, only a tiny scratch had been on it. Okay, it wasn’t her favorite, but when he had returned it at the end of class it became her most prized possession the rest of the school year. Well, until she lost it. But her crush never subdued throughout school.
Even watching the goofy big tooth boy grow taller, stronger, and more attractive she couldn’t help but feel her cheeks heat up whenever he was near. Her friends would tease her at lunch when she would stop mid-sentence because Steve had just stood up and caught a chicken nugget in the air or she would giggle at a joke she listened to.
But one thing was she never told him. Not once. Y/n saw the type of girls Steve Harrington went out with and she definitely was not the small and petite Nancy Wheeler. It seemed like her feelings towards Steve would be nothing more than a school girl crush. In fact, she had rarely thought about the dark haired boy since prom. Because although he looked sad, he looked pretty. And she swore he was about to ask her to dance until some redhead jumped in front of him. That was until he decided to start working at Family Video.
Keith mentioned there would be two new employees and all the training was on her, per usual. Y/n was Keith’s underpaid assistant but she never argued because he would eventually leave and she’d be crowned the new manager. But she didn’t expect on a Saturday morning that she would walk in to see Steve Harrington and a short haired girl named Robin Buckley waiting outside for their first ever shift.
She tried her best not to fumble her keys while unlocking the door or run into the cart of returned movies that the closers conveniently forgot to put away. She tried at least. The cart hit her hip so hard it fell down. She immediately cursed under her breath, bending down to pick up the spilled tapes on the ground.
Both new employees jumped to help her as she sputtered apologies and they didn’t have to help. Her breath hitched. Steve’s shoulder brushed against hers as he reached for a copy of Breakfast at Tiffany’s and suddenly she was back in Mrs. Robinson’s pre-cal class, warm cheeks, and that flip in her stomach that told her maybe her school girl crush hadn’t gone away. Lucky for her, she was the one who had been given the weekly task to make the schedule. She had ensured to never have a shift with him– at least alone.
She thought it wasn’t obvious she was actively avoiding him until one day he had come in with lunch for Robin. Except, Robin had already gone down the street to Dairy Queen with a friend. Steve’s face dropped when Y/n had broke the news to him. One would think him and Robin were together but it took three hours for her to come to the conclusion that they were nothing more than platonic.
Steve set the bag on the counter. He ran a hand through his hair, a strand fell down to his forehead, and she pathetically had to turn around to make sure she wasn’t drooling. “Do you want to eat lunch together?”
She froze. “W-what?”
Steve had already started to unpack the brown bag, shoving a fry in his mouth. “I don’t know what you like on your burger. Robin is weird and hates everything except cheese and pickles.” It was difficult to understand him with his mouth full of more salty fries and the fact she was still stunned. Steve must have noticed how she didn’t budge, staring at him with wide eyes because he looked up, tilting his head. “You're not hungry? Wait, don’t tell me. Are you one of those vegetarians? If you are, that's totally okay… you can eat my fries! Fries are a vegetable, right?”
She put her hand up. “No… I’m… thank you.” That was all she could manage to say before she grabbed the wrapped burger on the counter to take a bite.
“You don’t talk a lot, do you?” Steve wiped a dot of mustard from the corner of his mouth. “You never did in school.”
She giggled. “You never talked to me in school.”
“I didn’t?”
She tapped her chin and looked up as she pretended to go through her memories. “I recall one conversation when you asked to borrow a pencil.”
Steve made a sound and motioned his hands at her. “See!” His laugh was infectious, silky, and warm.
She had rolled her eyes, cheeks heated and stomach fluttered. “It’s okay. I never expected Steve Harrington to talk to someone like me.”
It wasn’t dramatic but his face dropped and eyes averted elsewhere. He took another bite of his burger, slow and deep in thought. She wanted to apologize. It was a harmless joke. Yet, she could tell his old self was a sore subject. “Sorry I was an idiot back then. So, don’t say that about yourself. You’re pretty cool.”
She looked down at her burger, avoiding the toothy grin plastered on his face. “You think I’m cool?”
Steve shoved the last bite of his burger in his mouth, shrugging. “Yeah of course you’re cool. You’re the one who convinced Keith to let us put a coffee machine in the break room.”
Her face fell briefly. “Yeah… um thank you again for the burger but I need to get back to work before the rush.” She was lying, and he knew that. There was never a rush until the evening.
He coughed awkwardly, grabbing his trash off the counter so he could place it in the bin. “Right. Well, I guess I’ll see you later?”
She only gave him a small smile, sighing in relief when the door chimed as Robin walked in, eyes wide at the sight of Steve. “I didn’t know you were working today?”
“I brought you lunch,” he answered with a bored tone, walking towards her.
“Oh… I was on a…” She looked over at the girl rewinding tapes, pretending not to listen to their conversation. “I was hanging out with April.”
Steve’s eyes widened. “April from the corner store? With the…?” He grabbed imaginary boobs.
Robin rolled her eyes, hitting him in the chest. “Gross, Steve. Are there any fries left? I’m still starving.” She grabbed the empty sack out of his hand, frowning. “I thought you said you brought me lunch?”
Steve made a sound, glancing at the girl behind the counter. “I had lunch with Y/n instead.”
Robin’s face contorted into something Steve knew all too well– mischief and curiosity. Robin loved to jump to conclusions.
“Stop,” he whispered so only she could hear. He started to mess with some tapes on a shelf so it looked less suspicious.
Robin threw her hands up. “I didn’t say anything.”
He narrowed his eyes looking back at the girl who was oblivious to the conversation and then back at his best friend. “She’s not my type.”
“I wasn’t your type either.” She jabbed back.
He blew a sigh out of his nose, opening his mouth to say something, but decided against it. He looked back at the girl.
Robin leaned closer, also bringing her voice to a whisper. “She definitely has a crush on you.” She snorted when Steve fumbled with a tape in his hand before placing it back. However, Robin took it and put it in a different spot– the correct spot.
“She does not. She doesn’t even talk to me!” He had said the last part a little too loud, but fortunately for him she had slipped into the storage room. Her ears were out of range of their conversation.
Robin thumped him on the forehead. “You dingus. She doesn’t talk to you because she has a crush on you, duh.”
Steve rubbed his hand over his face. “Even if she does have a crush on me. I’m not interested.”
Robin shook her head in disbelief, handing him the empty sack back. “Right. Because she’s not your type.” She didn’t allow him to answer, ending the conversation by telling him she’d see him later.
And of course, it took Robin exactly twenty-seven minutes to interrogate Y/n about Steve. Business was slower than usual, and her boredom turned into twenty questions. Robin had learned more about her co-worker in fifteen minutes than the few months she had been working there.
Her favorite food, color, and astrology chart. And now she was down to her last few questions. She needed to use them wisely. “So… what do you think about Steve?” Robin tried to be nonchalant.
Y/n didn’t react, but she noticed the way her shoulders tensed up. “Not sure what you mean by that.”
Robin shrugged, twirling a strand of hair around her finger mindlessly. “Oh… he just mentioned something to me. It’s probably nothing.” With her plan, she walked off, pushing the cart of returned tapes around, taking her sweet time to find their right places.
“Oh.” Was all Y/n had said before a customer walked in. But as soon as they walked out, Y/n joined Robin by the Horror section. “I’m curious. What did he say?”
Robin motioned her hand in a circle. “You know, this and that. How he thinks you hate him because you ignore him all the time.” It was a stretched lie. But it was her bait, and by the expression on the girl’s face, she was hooked.
“I… don’t hate Steve. Does he really think that?” Her face was full of concern. She even looked so worried her face was green as if she wanted to throw up.
Robin had to hold in the laughter. “It’s okay. I know it’s because you have a crush on him.”
She pushed the cart away, leaving Y/n behind. Her mouth had fallen open from shock. “W-what? No I don’t!”
“Okay,” Robin hummed.
“Even if I did like him. That’s not why I ignore him. It's a coincidence,” she continued.
“Don’t you make the schedules?” Robin’s brow rose, putting the last tape away. She leaned on the cart.
Y/n huffed, crossing her arms. “I do not have a crush on him.”
“You already said that.”
“And I’m repeating it because I feel like you don’t believe me.”
“Because I don’t believe you.”
The two stared at one another, neither wanted to break first. Y/n had always gotten along with Robin, but she never considered her a close enough friend to be asked such personal questions. She never went around trying to dive deeper into Robin’s romantic affairs.
Not that she ever saw her flirt with anyone that came in or talk about the very few cute boys that rolled in and out of Family Video.
It was Y/n who finally broke, the sound of the door chime turning her attention to an older woman hobbling in. The rest of the shift the two girls didn’t speak. But Y/n occasionally caught Robin looking over at her, a smirk plastered on her face. It was like Robin had figured everything out about her.
***
The inevitable occurred. It was Thursday, but not just any Thursday. It was Halloween. And Robin Buckley had caught the flu. Not only did Keith force her to cancel all of her late night plans, but Y/n had to work with Steve Harrington– alone.
She dreaded the shift as soon as she pulled up to her designated parking spot. Steve’s sleek BMW parked right next to it. Normally when she parked next to him, she always caught him doing his hair or checking to make sure his teeth were still white.
But today, there was no sign of him waiting in the car before their shift. Before she could question it, the door to Family Video opened, two girls came out giggling. Steve was the one holding the door. She couldn’t help it but to roll her eyes.
When he saw her get out of the car, he tilted his head, smiled softly, and waved at her. It was more than odd to see him show up before her. Keith already had a file full of tardiness warnings. “Nice costume.” Steve kept the door held open for her as she walked up to the store.
She instinctively touched the cat ears on her head. Steve followed close behind her back into the store. There were only a few customers browsing the store when she walked in. “Yeah, well thanks to Robin my plans on staying home doing nothing turned into scrambling to find something quick.”
Steve reached out and poked the orange and black ears, sniggering. “It wasn’t a requirement to wear a costume.”
She swatted his hand away and put a hand on her hip. “I know that. But it makes the shift more fun.”
“You could’ve made it more fun for me and dressed as one of the Pussycats.” He smirked, crossing his arms over his chest.
Her cheeks heated up. Y/n walked to the counter and picked up the folder for the closing shift check-list, scanning what needed to be done.
She glanced at the brunette who had followed her. He leaned against the counter, watching her. “If you should know, I was Josie last year for Halloween. This is my work appropriate costume.” She looked him up and down. “It’s a shame you didn’t want to dress up. You would have made a good Alan.”
His brows furrowed. “Who’s Alan?”
“The Pussycat’s roadie and Josie’s boyfriend.” Her eyes widened at what she had just said. She turned to face him, shaking her head violently. “I- I didn’t mean it like that.”
Steve licked his lips and opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something important. “I’m going to go check on our customers.”
She wanted to kick herself watching Steve give an awkward tightlipped smile, and walk away to the other side of the store. Instead, she had to put on a fake smile as she checked out customers. This was the exact reason she avoided being alone with him. Her awkward nature was always illuminated in her conversations.
And it seemed like the night only dragged excruciatingly slow. Occasionally groups of teenagers would come in like a herd, Steve scolding them not to run around. And then there were periods of times that it was just the two of them. The only sound came from the ticking of the clock and the film that was playing on the TV above the counter.
Then three familiar boys stormed into the store. There was a short curly-haired one, looking around as if he was on a mission. “Steve!” He had shouted towards her co-worker who was fixing a display.
Steve turned around with a huge smile. “Henderson!”
She couldn’t help but watch in bewilderment as the two greeted one another. “Where’s Robin?” The tall scrawny dark-haired boy of the group asked, coming up to the counter to get a piece of candy from a bowl that Keith had put out.
“Sick,” Steve answered him. He looked over at Y/n, who stood awkwardly as the three boys all made a sound of disappointment.
“Does this mean we can’t-” The curly haired boy’s words were cut off because Steve thumped him in the head, giving him a warning look. “What was that for?” He rubbed the spot, confused.
The other two boys kept quiet, as if they knew why Steve had tried to shut the boy up. “Let’s just go Dustin.” The dark skinned boy said. He motioned his eyes towards Y/n.
“Oh.” Dustin nodded, looking over at her. He gave her a toothy grin, his braces gleaming from the fluorescent lights. “Right… uh… well I guess we’ll see you later, Steve.”
The three boys all gave a disappointed sigh, their shoulders slouched as they made their way towards the door.
“Wait,” Y/n called out. The three boys stopped, turning around quickly. “You boys didn’t come in here to rent an R-rated movie… did you?” She raised a brow.
They all looked at one another.
“Or did you? Because my co-worker here lets you?” She tilted her head, trying to hold back the laughter from interrogating them. They gave a panicked look towards Steve, who was pretending not to listen. She looked over at him, narrowing her eyes. “But Steve wouldn’t do that. Because he knows that’s a fireable offense, right?”
Steve stuttered, trying to come up with the words. “Uh… yeah… right.”
“And as one of the leader’s, it’s my duty to write you up if I see you let fourteen year-olds rent an R-rated movie.” Steve looked down at the ground, avoiding her glare from being caught red-handed. Y/n let out a sigh. “I’m going to the backroom to get something. Since I can’t see the store or anything that happens while I’m in there, will you make sure any customers are taken care of while I’m gone?”
Steve looked up at her. He was unsure what to say. So, he just nodded.
Y/n eyed the three boys, giving them a small smile before walking to the back. She could hear them quietly celebrate as she entered the backroom. Of course, there was nothing for her to get or do in there. She was waiting until she heard the boys say bye, and ring of the bell, letting her know they were gone.
When she came back out, Steve’s back was leaned on the counter, arms crossed, watching the front door. The sunset streamed in, casting a glow on his tanned skin. She felt her cheeks heat up when she noticed the muscles in his arms poke out, his shirt sleeve hugging them. He noticed she had walked back into the room, standing straight, and brushing out his vest.
“Your friends left?” She pretended to look for them even though she knew the answer, walking towards the cash register. Her back now faced him.
Steve looked amused. “I wouldn’t really call them my friends.”
“They come in a lot to see you. That curly-haired boy seems to be fascinated with you.” She smirked at the thought that The King of high school who was popular was now only friends with a bunch of outcasts.
“Oh, yeah. I guess Dustin is like the little brother I never had.” He walked up next to her.
She shuddered when his arm brushed against hers. “That’s adorable,” Y/n cooed. She looked up at him with a big smile.
Steve blushed, but smiled back nevertheless. In doing so, it filled the air around the two of them with something that Y/n couldn’t describe. But it was suffocating, pricking her skin into tiny goosebumps along her arms.
He raked his fingers through his hair, sucking in his teeth. He was the first to break eye contact. “Listen, I um… wanted to talk to you about something Robin had said.”
Her face fell, unsure what he was going to say. “Oh?”
“Well, it’s kind of funny she would say such a thing. But a few weeks ago she mentioned something about you… having a crush on me.” He had thrown in some laughs as if it would ease the awkwardness.
Suddenly, it felt like Y/n had forgotten what words were. She was frozen, blinking rapidly, trying to tell her brain how to open her mouth. It would be easy for her to lie. To tell him, no, that’s absolutely ridiculous. Nevertheless, she looked up at him, a pathetic look in her eyes, opening her mouth to say something, but choosing to give a weak smile instead.
Realization hit him. Robin's intuition was correct. He couldn’t help but look at his feet, blushing. “Oh.”
The reply was all she needed to hear to know his thoughts on the matter. “It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything. I know you’re not interested. It’s just silly feelings that don’t mean anything, you know?” Her smile was small and sad. “I’d like to be your friend, though. I’ve just always been shy because you’re Steve Harrington and I wasn’t sure how to talk to you.”
Steve hated to admit her response was overwhelming and confusing. It was sure, he had never thought of her more than just a coworker. He gave a quick nod. “Right. Friends is… good. I’d like to be your friend as well.”
There was a beat.
“Great.” Y/n threw her hands up. “Then friends we are!” She patted him on the shoulder. And although her chest was tight, and a lump in her throat threatened to come up, she still smiled.
The bell ringing forced their attention towards the front door as another group of teenagers stormed in. The conversation was dropped for the rest of the night. And it probably would never come up again.
They were just friends.
***
Robin typed on the Family Video computer, occasionally leaning back, looking at the office door when she heard raised voices. Steve set some tapes on the counter next to her. She jumped, briefly looking at her friend before turning to look at the closed door again. “What do you think they’re talking about in there?”
Steve tilted his head, shrugging. “‘Dunno. Y/n and Keith have been butting heads for the past two weeks.”
“Yeah, but Mr. Morris never comes in. It must be something serious if the owner wanted to talk to them,” she whispered.
Before Steve could reply, the office door opened wide. “This is bullshit!” Y/n stormed out. She turned back around, pointing her finger towards whoever was in the room. “When this store goes downhill, don’t call me for help.” She pulled her work vest off and threw it on the ground. “I’m tired of doing all of Keith’s work and have no credit around here.”
There was no reply from inside the office, making her scoff in disbelief. “Fuck this place. And fuck you, Keith. Should I tell Mr. Morris now that you’ve been sneaking tapes from the adult section?” She turned back around and stomped past Robin and Steve, stopping for a moment to look at them, but it seemed like there was nothing else to say. She walked out of the store, leaving the pair dumbfounded.
Steve gave Robin a look. “I’ll be right back.” Before she could argue, Steve was running out of the store. He sighed in relief when he saw Y/n’s car still parked. He ran across the street, calling out her name, waving his hand in the air, barely missing a car coming his way. Whoever was driving was not happy because they held down their car horn as they passed by, flipping him off.
He didn’t bother with apologies. Instead, he walked up to her car, panting.
“Did your mother ever teach you how to look both ways, Harrington?” Although she was smirking, Steven took note of her puffy red-stained eyes. Dried tears clung to her soft cheeks. She must have noticed he was looking at her because she took the back of her hand to wipe her face.
“Are you okay?” He placed the palm of his hand on the top of her car, leaning on it slightly, trying to catch his breath. He needed to get back in shape.
Y/n, already frustrated, rolled her eyes. “I’m fine, Steve. I just want to go home.”
“Are you sure? It looked pretty rough back there.” He pressed.
Her jaw ticked. “Steve, I appreciate your concern. But I really don’t want to talk about it. Especially with you.”
Taken aback, Steve allowed his hand to slip down. He looked off to think for a moment. “I’m sorry. I just thought now that we’re friends… you might want someone to talk to.”
She bit her lip and pinched her nose. “No, I’m sorry. I’m pissed off and I took it out on you.” Her voice was soft, slightly cracking. Yet, she gave him an assuring smile. “Thank you for checking up on me.”
He smiled back. “Robin and I are having a movie night tomorrow. You should come. I have a heated pool.” He could sense she was unsure with the proposal. “And there will be booze. If you’re into that sort of thing of course.”
She sniggered, “Okay.”
That next night, Y/n showed up to Steve Harrington’s house just as she promised. She knocked on the large double doors. It took a moment before it opened. Her brows knitted together when the curly haired boy from Halloween answered the door. His name was Dustin, if she remembered correctly. “You’re not pizza.”
She dramatically patted herself. “Oh god. You’re right. I’m not. And you’re not Steve.”
Dustin rolled his eyes. “Very funny.” He left the door open just enough to let her in. “Steve! Your girlfriend is here.”
Her eyes went wide. “Oh, we’re not-”
“Y/n! You came.” Steve interrupted her, walking into the foyer.
She looked away quickly. He was only in a pair of swim trunks, a towel hung around the back of his neck. She had hoped he wasn’t serious about swimming. Even with a heated pool it was 53° outside. “Yeah, I had nothing better to do.”
Steve laughed, then looked over at Dustin who was still standing there, watching the two of them, clearly amused. “Henderson, what are you doing?”
“Waiting on the damn pizza you said you ordered an hour ago. I’m starving,” the younger boy complained.
“Stop whining and go upstairs and tell Robin Y/n’s here.” He motioned Dustin to go up the staircase that was right next to them. And like a mother, when Dustin opened his mouth to argue, Steve held a finger up. “Go, now.”
His shoulders dropped in defeat, doing as he was told.
Y/n giggled. “He seems like a handful.”
“No kidding.” Steve watched Dustin disappear at the top to go find Robin. “Just between you and me, I completely forgot to order the pizza.”
“I heard that!” Dustin yelled.
Steve ignored him, but rather put his hand on Y/n’s back so he could lead her through the house. “This is the living room.”
“I know.” Her eyes widened. “I didn’t mean that in a stalker way. I meant it as I’ve been to your parties in high school way.”
He chuckled, removing his hand from her back. “Sorry about that. I don’t remember much about high school. Mostly because part of me was so self-absorbed.”
There was a beat.
“Would you like a beer?”
“Uh… sure.” She followed him into the large kitchen. She had never seen it so empty, tracing her finger over the marble countertop. “I never thought you were self-absorbed.”
Steve paused for a moment to process what she had just said, looking over at her as she jumped on top of the counter. She seemed fascinated with his kitchen. He wasn’t sure why, though. It was just a kitchen. “I’m okay with admitting to being selfish and arrogant back then.”
Y/n took a cold can of beer out of his hand. She smirked, opening the can, letting it hiss. “I never said I never thought you were arrogant.” She took a sip.
Steve couldn’t help but titter. She had got him there he had to admit.
“Steve, Dustin said you forgot to order the pizza.” Robin’s voice infiltrated the kitchen as she barged through the door, clutching her stomach dramatically. “I’ve been studying non-stop and I think I’m about to die from lack of food.”
Y/n’s giggle made Robin look her up and down, examining from head to toe. She then turned back to Steve, a painful expression on her face. “Please order the pizza. My life is on your hands, Harrington.”
Steve rolled his eyes, taking the towel around his neck and swatting her with it. “You order it. I’m showing my guest around.”
“You never showed me around,” Robin mumbled. He tried to hit Robin again, but she caught the towel and pulled it away, frowning. “You do know me and Dustin will abuse this power of pizza ordering privileges.”
Steve looked like he was second-guessing his choice. Yet, he just sighed. “Yeah. Do as you wish. We’ll meet you guys outside in a bit.” He motioned for Y/n to follow him.
She slid off the counter, giving Robin a small smile. “See you in a bit.”
And before she turned to follow Steve out of the room, Robin’s mouth twisted into a sly smirk. She then crossed her arms and gave a suggestive wink at the girl. Y/n felt her face heat up and quickly put her head down, scurrying out of the room to catch up with Steve.
Later that night, Steve had walked Y/n to her car. When he walked back inside his house, he joined Robin and Dustin back in the living room. The two sat on the couch, arms crossed, and had knowing looks plastered on their faces, like mom’s who knew too much.
Steve ignored them and instead started to clean up the area. He had changed into a shirt and sweats, but his hair was still damp and clung to his forehead. Him and Dustin had been the only ones who swam. Robin and Y/n sat at the edge, their feet dipped into the pool, talking about who knows what.
Although Robin and Steve had a lot in common and were inseparable since the summer, he couldn’t help but feel happy she had another friend who was a girl. Truthfully, he struggled fully understanding her.
“Are you sure you two aren’t dating?” Dustin had been the one to break the ice, asking the question that Robin was wondering as well.
She sat silent, but by her expression, Steve could tell she had a lot to say on the matter. The Harrington boy sighed loudly, not looking over at them. “I’m sure.”
Robin let out a scoff, everything she had been holding in spilling out. “Are you kidding me? I’ve had to endure you two blatantly flirting or eye… canoodling for three weeks straight. But get this, he told me he turned her down when she told him she liked him.”
Dustin jumped off the couch, walking up to Steve.“Wait… dude, she likes you? And you rejected her? I thought it was weird when you and Robin haven’t gotten together yet, but this is even weirder.”
Steve glanced over at Robin, sharing a knowing look at one another. “Uh… yeah,” he coughed awkwardly. “She’s just not my type, you know.” Steve shook his head. This was unbelievable. Why was he talking about his love life with a kid? “Go get your stuff. Your mom should be home by now. I can’t believe I let her convince me to look after you tonight.”
Dustin mumbled profanities, walking off to go collect his things. Robin on the other hand had stood up, not wanting to drop the subject. “You’re a dingus, Harrington.”
“I’m done talking about it, Buckley. We’re just friends.” He took the handful of trash and walked into the kitchen to throw it away.
Robin followed. “Give me one good reason she isn’t your type. Then I’ll drop it.” Steve turned around, hands on hips, annoyed. Robin held out her pinkie. “I promise.”
He looked to the side and his jaw ticked. “I dunno, she just isn’t. There isn’t anything else to say.”
“You’re not helping your case-”
He cut her off by groaning loudly, putting his face in his hands. “Jesus Christ. I don’t like her because she doesn’t really like me. I can tell you’re confused. I meant that she doesn’t really like me because she likes this version of me she knew from high school.”
She still looked confused. “Okay?”
“Robin, you’ve seen my many failed dates. It has all been girls that I went to school with who had a crush on Steve “The King” Harrington. Once they learned that I was just some guy who had no actual plan for the future…” He couldn’t seem to finish the last part. He leaned back on the counter, arms crossed.
Robin started to laugh, receiving a dirty look from him. “But you always know that’s why those girls like you because of you were. Why is Y/n different? Is it because you like her too?”
Steve didn’t answer at first. He scratched his neck, standing up straight again. “She’s just a friend.”
Defeated in the argument, Robin sighed. “Right. Do you know why she quit yesterday?”
“What does this have to with-”
“She quit because Keith reported her for renting R-rated movies out to kids.”
Steve’s mouth fell open, unsure what to say.
But he didn’t have to say anything, because Robin continued, “She didn’t have to do that. She could have told the truth and saved her ass but she didn’t. Now sure, she might have a crush on you because of Steve “The King” Harrington. But something tells me she might be okay with Steve “The Lame and Dingus” Harrington.”
Steve couldn’t sleep the rest of the night once Robin and Dustin arrived safely back at their homes. He hated when Robin had the last word in their squabbles. And it seemed like this time it took the words right out from under him.
He was unsure how to feel. Grateful? Guilty? Indebted? None of those made up for what Y/n had done for him. And she didn’t even tell him. It was an unconditional favor that he wasn’t aware of until now.
***
Y/n hated to admit it, but she missed Family Video. Her days at the store were always different, even with the odd small-town regulars that came in. She hated that she even missed the smell of Keith’s tuna sandwich he always brought for lunch.
Now, she was stuck behind a desk taking calls for an attorney who rarely had clients. At first, she was ecstatic her first day had been sorting paperwork, but if she had known it would only take her a couple of hours, she would’ve dragged it out rather than trying to be a kiss-ass over achiever.
Unlike Family Video, her day was always the same. It was Hawkins, she expected to see odd cases come in and out, but most of the time it was the town drunks who violated their probation by drinking under the influence.
However, one good thing happened was at exactly 11:30 AM, Steve Harrinton would walk in with lunch. The first few days he had came, Y/n had already packed a sandwich for herself and it had gone to waste. She soon learned there wasn’t a need to pack her lunch at all by the second week.
Steve had managed to become the new lead, meaning he had full control of scheduling. Y/n was happy for him. He seemed to enjoy having more control and privileges. And she imagined he took advantage of his position whenever he was on a shift with Robin.
So, by now it had come to no surprise when he waltzed into the office, two bags in his hands, plopping in the chair on the other side. He always set his feet on top of the desk, which Y/n always pushed off. Even if she was occupied with a word search or book, it was an instinct.
“Working hard or hardly working?” He smiled, teeth and all, knowing she would cringe.
She let out raspberry, reaching over the desk and hand held out to take the bag. “What fine cuisine did you bring for me today? Wendy’s?”
Steve laughed, handing over the bag. “My mom’s meatloaf.”
She gave him a look. Nothing had to be said to know that it was strange coming from him having a home cooked meal from his mom. Especially since a few weeks ago he had mentioned his dad had received a promotion, meaning more time traveling. Steve had expressed many times that Mrs. Harrington didn’t trust his dad on his own.
She watched as he took out the contents of his bag. She had put the blinds up earlier because the sun was out even though it was December. Sunlight bled through, highlighting his dark hair that it almost looked like honey was oozing down his head like streaks.
However, the moment was ruined when he shoved a bologna sandwich in his mouth, crumbs falling everywhere.
“You always eat like it’s your last meal.” She noticed a drop of mustard on his chin. Sighing, she opened a drawer full of miscellaneous items, taking out a napkin. She leaned over the desk and wiped the mustard off his chin carefully. There was a beat where the two locked eyes, but she pulled away quickly, handing him the napkin.
“I eat like a working man who only has a 30-minute lunch break,” he complained.
She giggled. “I’ve told you my boss is looking for an intern. You’d get an hour.”
“Pfft. I am not cut out for the world of law. Although, my dad would probably be more than happy.” Steve ate the last bite of his food, rubbing his hands against one another to get the crumbs off.
She only smiled in response, finally taking a bite of the meatloaf, her eyes wide as it hit her tongue. “This is delicious!”
A laugh bellowed out of him. “Woah, slow down there.”
Y/n didn’t listen. In about five bites the meatloaf was all gone from the tupperware container. A loud burp escaped from her lips, she shockingly covered her mouth from embarrassment. But she quickly eased up when she saw the corner of his eyes crinkle.
She had noticed something different recently whenever she was around Steve. His touches always seemed to linger, or the sound of his laughter somehow stained the air around her. She wasn’t sure how that was possible, but even after he left the room she could still hear the rich sound waiting around, ringing throughout her ears. As if it wanted to taunt her. And not to mention his apparent need to always see her.
She had told herself weeks ago she was over him. He would never like her. They both verbally agreed that he only saw her as a friend and that was all they would be.
Steve coughed, attempting to break the silence. His expression made it seem like he had been trying to find the right words to say something. “So, did you see that Girls Just Want to Have Fun is showing at the drive-in on Saturday?”
She almost jumped in her seat. “Wait? Really? That’s my favorite movie!”
Steve smiled. He knew it was her favorite. Once he looked at her account and saw she had rented it a month straight once the store started to carry it. “Oh! I had no clue. Well, um…” He scratched his neck. “If you’re not busy do you want to go with me?”
“Yeah! I mean I’m not busy. I’d love to!” She grabbed her bag on the ground and dug around until she found her pocket calendar. “What time?”
Steve took a moment to relish her excitement, taking note how it made her eyes brighter. “Uh… seven.”
She nodded, scribbling down the plan on the calendar for Saturday. “That’s a perfect excuse to return Robin a book I borrowed from her.”
His face fell. “Robin?”
She didn’t seem to notice the shift. “This is so exciting!”
“Do you think I meant… Y/n I was kind of hoping… what I meant was that I wanted it to be just-”
Steve’s words were cut off as the front door opened. Y/n’s demeanor changed. Steve watched her closely as she sat up straighter, wiped her blazer of any crumbs, and looked at herself in the reflection of the computer in front of her.
He turned in his seat to see who had walked in that made her react in such a way.
It was a tall, clean, short haired man. “Hello, Y/n.” He was soft-spoken but somehow carried an assertive energy. Steve had to do a double take to realize it was Mike Lewinski. He was an old basketball teammate from school. And apparently over the summer he had had a makeover.
“Mike?” Steve stood up, allowing the third party to recognize his presence.
“Harrington? Wow, man. I thought it was only rumors that you stuck around.” He looked at the Family Video vest, before holding out his hand. “What brings you to my dad’s office?”
Steve was hesitant, but took it nonetheless, both their grips tight as if challenging one another silently. “Oh… I was just having lunch with Y/n.”
Mike looked over the girl who had also stood up in the meantime, smiling bashfully at him. “Y/n, I wasn’t aware you were seeing someone.”
She shook her head. “We’re not together!”
Steve turned around quickly from her eagerness to turn down the accusation. He faced Mike again. “Yeah, we have lunch sometimes whenever I’m not busy.”
“Ah.” Mike smiled. Almost like he was relieved. “Is my father in his office?”
Y/n stuttered. “Oh… yeah! You’re good. He doesn’t have any meetings today.”
He smiled and nodded. “Good to see you, Harrington. We should go out to the Hideaway sometime.”
“Yeah.”
Mike walked past him and towards his father’s office, stopping when he reached next to Y/n. She smiled nervously as he looked at her closely. “Did you cut your hair?”
Instinctively, she touched it, smiling. “Yes, I did.” She didn’t.
“I like it. It suits you.” Mike gave another curt nod, before walking into his father’s office.
Y/n giggled to herself, sitting back down in her chair.
Steve, on the other hand, couldn’t believe the monstrosity he had just witnessed. His jaw ticked the longer he thought about Meathead Mike and Y/n, in the words of Robin, eye canoodling. “You haven’t done anything with your hair.”
Y/n looked up, brows furrowed. “Huh?”
“He asked if you cut your hair and you said yes. You haven’t cut it. You just have it in a different style.” He pointed.
She scoffed. “So what? I was only being nice.”
“You were flirting,” he argued.
Y/n had had enough. She looked at the door behind her before jumping to her feet. She stormed around the desk, grabbing his wrist, and pulled him outside. “What the hell is with you?”
Steve pulled his arm away so he could cross them against his chest. And almost like a child, he looked away from her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You’re unbelievable.” She had to walk away for a moment to take a deep breath privately before returning. “You’ve been so strange lately. And now you’re upset because you think I was flirting with someone.”
“I’m not upset.”
“Right… fine. I’m not going to argue with you about it. I’m just having a hard time understanding you, Steve. I mean you go from not talking to me at all to coming to my work every day with lunch. Why?” In that moment, she hoped that secretly all this time had been his way of telling her he liked her.
It was promising because he had taken a step closer to her. His eyes drooped, vulnerable and harboring a secret he had been holding in.
When he saw her flirt with Mike, he realized that he had taken too long to decipher his feelings and thoughts about her. She had moved on and followed through with their mutual promise to be friends. He swallowed the thickness stuck in his throat, dropping his arms to his sides. “You’re right. I have been acting strange.”
Y/n’s heart skipped a beat.
“I have been feeling something for weeks and I wasn’t sure how to express it,” he continued.
The corners of her mouth lifted, stepping closer to him, grabbing his hand. “Steve, it’s okay. You can tell me.”
He looked down, ashamed. “I’ve felt guilty about you quitting because of me.” His voice was soft but almost ear-deafening at the same time.
She closed her eyes to process what he had said. “You… you’ve been bringing me lunch every day because you felt guilty about me quitting?”
Steve nodded. “You took the fall for me and then I ended up with your job. I feel like an asshole.”
Y/n bit her lip, letting go of his hand. However, she smiled reassuringly. “I’m going to kill Robin for telling you.”
“Please don’t. Her ghost will come back and kill me.”
They shared a laugh.
Steve looked through the window at the closed office door. “Mike’s a good guy.”
“Yeah. I know.” She smiled sadly, looking at her watch. “Your break is over.”
Steve took a deep breath. “Right. You know, about Saturday. I completely forgot that I have to pull a double so I don’t think I’ll be able to go.” He put his hand on top of his head, pretending as if it had just come to him.
She tried not to look upset. “It’s okay. I forgot I have to babysit.” It was a lie. And maybe deep down he knew it, but he didn’t show any reaction.
Instead, he left her with a half-hearted smile and dirty tupperware that he forgot to take with him. She had taken it home and washed it so it would be returned cleaned. But the rest of the week, Steve didn’t show up at his regular time. Anytime she called the store and asked for him, someone always gave the excuse that he was busy. By Friday, Y/n had packed her own lunch for the first time in weeks.
***
Robin Buckley had never been a flashy person. She hated the attention on her. And she only said things to strangers if she absolutely had to.
So when her, Steve and Y/n were at the diner and she brought up wanting to have an eighteenth birthday party, Steve was taken aback. Y/n on the other hand, squealed. “Oh my god! That will be so much fun. Don’t you agree, Steve?” They had only recently started to be okay again. But there were still moments when the energy between them was tense.
He didn’t look at her. “Yeah, I guess.”
Y/n hit his shoulder. “This is Robin’s only eighteenth birthday. Of course she’d want to have a huge party.”
“I never said anything about it being huge,” Robin interjected.
Y/n waved her hand as if she was waving off what her friend had just said. “Leave the planning to me. Steve can we have it at your-”
“Whatever.” He glanced at his watch, getting out of the booth. “I have to go pick up Dustin and his geek squad.” He finally looked at Y/n as he laid some cash to cover his bill on the table. “Robin can tell me more at work tomorrow.”
Once he left, she let out a huff. “He has some nerve.”
Robin waited a moment before replying. “He’s been pissy lately because Dustin has been hanging out with Eddie Munson more than him.”
“He’s so moody,” she complained.
Robin only hummed.
The party was more than what Robin had imagined. People she had never spoken to filled the empty spaces of the Harrington household. They had no clue who she was, but it didn’t matter because there was free alcohol and they were all too drunk to ask.
Robin stood next to Y/n, shyly saying thanks to all the people who wished her a happy birthday. She took a sip from her cup, cringing at the taste. Y/n chuckled, leaning over to Robin, grabbing her arm for support. “No one’s forcing you to drink that.”
Robin, as if proving a point, chugged the rest, wiping her mouth. “It’s my birthday. Once I get drunk enough, it will taste like water.”
They shared a fit of drunken giggles. Y/n looked across the room to see Steve leaned against the wall, a red-solo cup in his hand, talking to a blonde. She felt her stomach twist and the only remedy was the rum punch in her hand. “I need to get laid.”
“W-what about that one guy…” Robin snapped her fingers trying to recall the name. “Meathead!”
“Meathead?” She thought for a moment. “You mean Mike?” Mike Lewinski had asked her out for coffee a few weeks ago. Nothing had gone wrong, in fact he was nice, but their conversations fell flat and uninteresting. Both of them had agreed there would be no future dates.
“Ah, right. His name was Mike. I was thinking about what Steve had called him the other day.” She frowned when she looked inside her empty cup. Unsure where it all had gone. “I need more to drink.”
The two girls walked through the crowd to get to the kitchen. “Why were you and Steve talking about me and Mike?”
Robin’s shoulders tensed, glancing back to look at her. “Oh… uh… we weren’t.”
Y/n could read through the blatant lie. She finished her drink rather than calling out Robin. She chose to drink a beer next, taking one out of the ice chest at the end of the island. She asked if Robin wanted one, but the girl didn’t reply.
She looked up to see her staring across the room. Following her gaze, Y/n’s eyes landed on a tall thin girl. Her hair was fiery red and curly. Freckles scattered on her face as if a painter had flicked their brush. She noticed Robin was looking at her. She smiled sweetly and gave her a tiny wave before returning to her conversation.
Robin had raised her hand, blushing profusely. The dots seemed to connect for Y/n. “You know, you should go talk to her.”
Robin snapped around, eyes huge, like she had been caught red-handed. “I- wasn’t…” She let out an exasperated sigh. “Her name’s Vickie. She’s in band with me.”
“She’s cute. I honestly didn’t expect that from you.”
“Well, most people don’t expect me to be a lesbian.”
Y/n giggled. “No, I meant I didn’t expect you to be into red-heads.”
She wasn’t sure how many drinks she had had in her system by the time she needed to use the bathroom. The air had turned stale from the sweaty bodies that polluted the house. It didn’t help that people came back inside after smoking cigarettes or weed, the stench still clinging onto their clothes.
The only bathroom that was open to guests was downstairs. The line wasn’t long, but it seemed to drag the longer she waited and the more she needed to use it. She leaned her body against the wall next to her, letting the chilled surface cool her hot cheeks.
She stood straight when Steve stumbled through the hallway. At first he didn’t notice her until she slurred his name. He stopped, and chuckled at her state. “Why are you by yourself?”
Y/n reached out and drunkenly grabbed his hand, pulling him closer. He didn’t fight it. In fact, he took his other hand and put it on top, his thumb rubbing hers. She went to her tip toes so she put her mouth close to his ear. “Robin is flirting with girls.”
Steve’s expression seemed panicked. “How’d you…?”
“Stevie, I’m a genius. I was bound to find out someday.” She giggled as if she had said the funniest thing in the world. “I let her flirt so I could wait in like to piss. I have to piss so bad.”
Steve looked at the line in front of her, sighing. “Come on.” He wrapped his arm around her. Maybe to support her. Or maybe just an excuse to touch her. He led her away from the bathroom and towards the staircase.
As they ascended, many people gave them strange looks. And some were jealous, thinking that Steve Harrington had found the girl he would spend the night with.
Y/n had known Steve as a close friend for months, and even had come over more than she could count on two hands, but she had never been inside his room. It was neat and smelled like mahogany and his cologne.
He let go of her, pointing towards another door. “Uh… there’s my bathroom.”
She smiled, thanking him before going inside. It was fairly large. A long counter with products scattered on the top. He had one of those walk in showers with glass doors.
She looked behind her just to be sure before sneaking over, picking up a nearly empty bottle of shampoo, opening and taking a sniff. Yep, it smelled exactly like him. Sweet but also like the outdoors during winter.
When she finished and walked back outside, Steve was laying on his bed, legs dangled over the side, eyes closed. She let out a breath that resembled a laugh. She walked over to him, sitting on the side and looked down.
A stray hair had fallen to his forehead. She couldn’t help but reach out and use her pointer finger to brush it back. She jumped when his eyes snapped open. “I didn’t mean to disturb you.”
He groaned, sitting up. He looked bad. Not because he had drunk a lot but also because he looked as if he hadn’t slept well lately.
“We should get back to the party,” Y/n suggested.
“No.” He had said it quickly, like a snap. It wasn’t meant to be harsh, but he realized how rash he sounded. “Sorry. I had meant I wanted to stay here for a bit. But you can go.”
She bit her lip. Surely he didn’t think she was going to leave him by himself. Instead of words, she grabbed his hand. Silently saying she would stay.
A few minutes passed by of the two of them sitting in the dark room, listening to voices from outside. The moon casted a milky light through his window, making shadows dance on the wall in front of them. Y/n nudged Steve, laughing. “Am I super drunk, or does that shadow on the wall look like a dick?”
Steve narrowed his eyes, trying to see what she was looking at. His shoulder brushed against hers as he joined in her laughter. “Yeah. It really does.”
“It compliments the room well,” she joked.
He pushed his body into her side softly. “I’ll think about it next time we redecorate the house. I think my mom will be ecstatic.”
There was a beat where they laughed harder, looking at one another. She had taken her hand away from him to cover her mouth. He had taken his hands and covered his face. Y/n took note how they were large enough to hide all of his features.
The laughter subdued gradually, both of them putting their hands back into their laps as they calmed down. Y/n sighed to fill in the silence. “I’m going to go find Robin. She’s probably looking for me. Do you want to come with me?”
“I think I’m going to stay here for a few more minutes. You know, so no one gets the wrong idea.” He smirked.
She scoffed. “I think they already had the wrong idea when you brought me up here.” She smiled. “Thank you, by the way. I probably would’ve pissed my pants if it weren’t for you.”
He rolled his eyes. “Don’t be dramatic.”
She pushed him slightly. “Asshole.” The pair locked eyes, making her stomach flip. “Seriously, thank you.” She slowly leaned in, hesitant, placing a tender kiss on his cheek.
She pulled away to get up, but Steve’s hand flew to her wrist, forcing her to stay. She was shocked, a small gasp escaped her. Even though they were already looking at one another, he seemed to be searching for something in her eyes. His Adam’s apple bobbed as his thumb swiped her cheek. “You had an eyelash,” he mumbled.
“Oh.” The back of her neck started to feel warm. “Was that all?”
“You’re so pretty.”
And it was like all the energy at the top of the rollercoaster that seemed to build over the months had finally reached the top, falling. Their lips connected. And it was more than Y/n had expected as they moved like static rubbing together, electrifying from her lips to her toes.
When she moaned, Steve took the opportunity to kiss her open-mouthed, drinking in the sound that followed. His hand gripped her hip, pulling her closer. It had to be all a dream. She needed to tangle her fingers in his hair unless he would slip away.
This wasn’t the first time she had touched his hair. Sometimes she would ruffle it when he was irritating her, or when they hung out he would lay his head on lap as she brushed her fingers through. But this time was different. It felt dirty.
He was the first to break away, his chest heaving, lips swollen, and eyes darkened. He shuddered when she went straight for his jaw, leaving a trail of kisses to his ear, slightly grazing her teeth on the lobe.
“Babe, I’m going to cum if you do that again.” He moved his head so he could place another kiss on her lips, then on her neck.
“Say that again,” she whispered.
“What?” He kissed and sucked on a spot that made her gasp his name. “Do you want me to call you babe? Was that it?”
“Yes, please.” She dug her nails into his shoulders, clenching her eyes when his hand slipped under her shirt.
“You have no idea how worked up you have me, babe.”
She placed a hand on his thigh, feeling the bulge through the denim of his jeans. She gave him a smug expression. “I think I have an idea.” She swung her leg over his so she could straddle him. Thankful for the skirt she had chosen to wear when it rode up her thigh slightly. She bucked her hips so that she could feel him twitch through the thin fabric of her underwear.
The kisses became sloppier and more heated as they continued to roam their hands all over one another.
Both their shirts ended up on the floor eventually. Followed by Y/n’s bra. His belt had been unbuckled to relieve him of the pressure.
With his mouth, he peppered kisses on her breasts, putting one in his mouth as he kneaded the other with his free hand. When he broke away, a string of saliva formed from her nipple to his lips.
He looked up at her, and he looked destroyed.
It had been everything she had dreamed. So why did she feel tears brim her eyes? She gave him a fierce kiss again, but it somehow felt… wrong. “I…” Her bottom lip quivered.
“Yes?” He tried to kiss her neck again, but she stopped him.
“I forgot about the cake!” She jumped off his lap, grabbing her bra and shirt, turning away from him to put them back on.
“Cake?” He seemed confused, pinching his nose.
“Yeah. Robin’s birthday cake. I completely forgot.” She hit her forehead with the palm of her hand. “Silly me.”
“Oh. Uh… yeah.” Steve’s disappointment was clear.
“Good thing I remembered. Or else we would’ve made a huge mistake.” She laughed awkwardly.
Steve stood up as well to put his shirt back on. “Mistake?”
Y/n turned back around once she was decent again. “Oh come on. We’re both very drunk. You know this wouldn’t have happened any other way.”
Steve let out a huff, running his hands through his already messy hair. His jaw ticked, refraining from saying anything else. No longer aroused, he buckled his belt and stormed past her out of his room.
It was three in the morning when Steve kicked out the last guest. Y/n and Robin were the only ones left, cleaning up all the trash around the house. Steve walked into the living room where they were giggling. And almost immediately, the energy shifted. They fell silent as he stood there, hands on his hips.
“I’m going to take a shower and go to bed. I made sure the guest room is ready.” He didn’t allow a response before he turned on his heels and left the room.
Robin waited until she heard his door shut from upstairs before opening her mouth. “Jeez. What’s his deal?”
“Who knows?” Y/n shoved a handful of trash into a bag, a bit too aggressively.
Robin eyed her for a moment, rolling her eyes. “Jesus, you two hooked up, didn’t you?”
She almost dropped what she was holding. Nevertheless, she tried to pretend not to react. “Not sure what you mean by that.”
“Oh come on. You both disappeared for an unnatural amount of time and both came back looking like a hot mess. Also your shirt has been on backwards.” Robin smirked. She was smug and had been waiting for the perfect chance to finally say her deductions out loud.
Y/n looked down, and sure enough her shirt had been backwards the whole time. Robin probably had noticed right away. Cheeky. “We didn’t hook up. We only…” She couldn’t find the right words.
“Canoodled?” Robin wiggled her brows.
Y/n threw an empty cup at her, and although she was embarrassed, she felt a laugh come up. “You’re sick, you know that?”
The brunette shrugged. “You’re sick for hooking up with our friend on my birthday.”
“Your birthday isn’t until Monday.”
Robin pointed at her. “That’s a technicality.”
She rolled her eyes, looking up at the ceiling, trying to imagine what Steve was doing. “I think I hurt his feelings.”
Robin sighed, making Y/n wonder about their conversation earlier in the night when her and Steve had talked about Y/n and Mike. Had Robin been in-between the whole time? “He’ll get over it.”
She frowned and shook her head. “No, this time it was different. I said it was a mistake.”
Her friend looked up to the sky, mouthing the words “Just kill me now.” She let a beat go by. “You two are ridiculous. It’s like cat and mouse with feelings. First you think he doesn’t like you, then he doesn’t think you like him, and then you do whatever the hell you did tonight and you still think he doesn’t like you. Everyone in a two-mile radius can tell you like one another. Hell, people in Illinois can tell. Should we tattoo it on both your foreheads? ‘I have a big fat crush on Dingus one’ and ‘I have a big fat crush on Dingus two’?”
“Thanks, Robin. You know how to cheer a girl up.” Y/n’s mouth drooled with sarcasm.
“I’d die for the two of you, but I can only take so much.” She clutched her heart dramatically.
Y/n didn’t answer, ashamed, a sheepish expression painted on her face. And it all felt obvious what she needed to do and say. She could go upstairs right now and make everything okay between her and Steve. But, she was too stubborn and instead planned on forgetting what had happened that night.
***
Trying to forget what had happened only lasted a week before she waltzed into Family Video on her break the next Friday. Steve was behind the counter helping the same blonde from Robin’s birthday party. She had giggled at something Steve had said, reaching out and straightening his vest.
He looked over at the door, his face fell at the sight of his new customer. He turned his attention back to the blonde, and Y/n could hear him say, “Have a good day.” The girl looked disappointed when she had turned around, leaving the store. It was only the two of them. But why did it feel like there was so much noise going on?
Steve watched her stand there for a few seconds until he decided to act busy. LIke she was another customer.
She sighed and came up to the counter. “H-hi.”
Steve turned his back to her. “Hello, welcome to Family Video. How can I assist you?”
“Steve.” She was exasperated and wanted to get straight to the point.
He turned around, pretending to be shocked. “Oh! Y/n, didn’t realize it was you.” He looked at his watch. “Robin doesn’t work today. There’s a basketball game.”
“I know. I came to see you.” She lifted a paper sack in her hand, placing it on the counter. He had moved his head slightly, allowing her to catch the fading bruise on his neck. Her cheeks burned when she realized what it was. “I- I brought you lunch.”
Suddenly, she felt like she was back in that classroom when he had asked for a pencil. The months of getting comfortable around him had vanished, and all words were stuck on her tongue, unable to escape. “I already ate lunch.”
He was lying and she knew he was. He turned back around, ignoring her again. She felt the anger rise, she violently grabbed the sack, throwing it loudly in the trash can by the door. Just as she was about to leave, her hand on the handle, she took a deep breath. “I know I hurt your feelings, but that gives you no right to be mean to me.” She turned around.
He was no longer messing with anything but he still faced the opposite way. She chose to continue, “I came here to make things okay. To tell you I’m sorry.”
“Sorry for what you said or sorry for kissing me?”
She groaned in frustration, putting her palms on her temples, rubbing them. She didn’t want to lose her cool, but he was making it painfully hard. “Of course I’m not sorry for kissing you-”
He snapped around. “But you still think it was a mistake, right?”
She opened her mouth but quickly closed it, clenching her jaw. A tear betrayed her, rolling down her cheek. “Do you know why I first started to like you?”
He folded his arms across his chest, motioning for her to continue.
“I liked you because the first thing I learned was that you cared about others before yourself. It might sound silly, because it is, but when I was five years old, you kissed me after making me cry. This entire time I had just thought I liked you in school because you were Steve Harrington. You were cute and I couldn’t help but feel butterflies when you asked me for a pencil in seventh grade because there was a sparkle that shone in your stupid brown eyes. But I also thought that’s all it was, a school crush that I wouldn’t even remember in twenty years.
“But then you had to get a job here and make me realize how that guy in school wasn’t as selfish as everyone made him out to be. I saw it every time you made sure to be at the counter when Mrs. Higgins came in because you know she doesn’t like me. I saw it every time Dustin came around and you made sure he wasn’t in trouble. I saw it every time you came to my work and brought me lunch when I never asked you to.” She wiped the flood pouring down her face, trying to keep it together.
Steve’s face had fallen but he continued to stand there frozen.
She let out a sob, her lip quivered, looking at the ground so he couldn’t see her puffy eyes. “No, I don’t think kissing you was a mistake. I was only afraid because although the more I got close to you, and the more I liked you, the more I considered you a friend. And it felt like we were just hooking up. So it felt wrong.” She looked up at him, sniffling. “I’m sorry.” She gave him a half-hearted smile and left the store.
She began her walk back to the office, which wasn’t that far from the store. She had only gotten a few feet away when she heard the bell hastily ring, and hurried footsteps pounded against the pavement behind her. “Wait! Y/n!”
She wiped more tears on her sleeve, pushing back the lump in her throat when she turned around. His hair was disheveled and eyes red. “You didn’t give me a chance to talk.” His voice was softer than earlier. More careful, trying not to upset her. He brushed his thumb over her cheek. “I made you cry again.”
“I-it’s okay,” she mumbled.
“No, it’s not. I let my pride get in the way.” He licked his lips. “You were wrong.”
“What?” She was unsure what he meant.
Hesitant, he took her hand in his, looking at it and then back up at her. “What happened wasn’t a hook-up to me. I had been trying to ask you out for weeks but I thought you might have moved on. And when we were in my room at the party I couldn’t help but notice the moon made you glow. You looked beautiful, and I couldn’t help but finally kiss you.” He let out an awkward chuckle. “I definitely got carried away.”
She smiled shyly. “You tried to ask me out?” She gasped, eyes wide, and covered her face. “Oh my god. That’s why you asked to go to the drive-in. You wanted it to be a date.”
He laughed at her reaction, nodding. “Don’t worry. I was a little rusty. You make me nervous.”
She smirked, poking him in the chest. “What? I make Steve Harrington nervous?”
He rolled his eyes, but grinned cheekily nonetheless. “Can you blame me? I did just admit how pretty I think you are.”
There was a beat as they locked eyes. He reached out and put his hand on the side of her face, stepping closer, parting his lips as his face neared hers.
However, she stopped him. She raised her brows and let a smug smile appear. “You’re going to kiss me even though you haven’t asked me on a date yet?”
Flabbergasted, Steve laughed in disbelief. “Seriously?”
She took a step back and crossed her arms. Mimicking what he did to her earlier.
He sighed and stood up straight. He then cleared his throat dramatically. “Y/n, would you do me the honor of accompanying me to a nice dinner tomorrow night?”
She gave him a toothy smile, giggling. “I’d be very delighted.”
“Pick you up at seven?” He asked.
She nodded. “Perfect.”
“Okay, then I guess I’ll see you then.” Steve took her hand, placing a soft kiss. He gave her a sweet goodbye before he turned around to go back to the store which probably had been left unoccupied for too long.
She looked at her watch, seeing that she still had fifteen minutes left of her break. Smiling to herself, she chased after Steve, tapping him on the shoulder before he reached the door. He turned around, brows furrowed, probably wondering if she had forgotten something.
She grabbed him by the vest, pulling him towards her, their lips crashed against one another. He was shocked at first. However, he melted when her lips started to push and pull against his. His hand wrapped around to the small of her back, the other on the back of her neck, pulling her closer.
And they both felt like they were floating in the air. To her, it was like that random Tuesday in December, where her stomach fluttered and her heart pounded against her chest. It felt surreal. It was more than she had imagined.
#blaize writes#steve harrington x reader smut#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington smut#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington#stranger things imagine#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things smut#stranger things#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x you smut#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington angst#steve fic
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Radar Love
⌌⊱⇱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰⌏🌟⌎⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⇲⊰⌏
A Little Savory tier commission for Immy<3
Word count: 1995
Thank you so much for the request! 💜
Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, stepcest, kissing, teasing, flirting, cockwarming, nipple play, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, math homework 🤭
proofread! But apologies for any mistakes | may have missed 🫣
Title from Radar Love by Golden Earring
⌌⊱⇱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰⌏🌟⌎⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⇲⊰⌏
You didn’t think twice when Leon offered to help tutor you for the math test you were struggling to pass. And at the start, he was super helpful. Then, once you started doing much better at solving the problems on the practice sheet, he got a little more lenient, a little more intimate in his tutoring.
“C’mon, little sis,” he grins at you, patting his knee, “sit on my lap and show me the problems you have left to work on.”
Biting your lip, you fidget with your skirt before finally moving to sit down on his lap with your back to his chest as you both face your scratch paper filled with equations.
“Good girl,” he murmurs in your ear, chuckling when you shiver, “oh baby sis, you’re so cute.”
“Shut up,” you grouch, ignoring the arousal pooling in your belly at your close proximity to Leon.
“Ooh, someone’s got an attitude,” he pokes your side with one hand while his other fiddles with the hem of your skirt, “don’t be so mean, I’m just trying to help my sweet little sister.”
“Uh huh, sure,” you snark, grinding down on his bulge, feeling his chubbed cock twitch against your ass.
Hissing, he grabs your hip and slowly rocks up against you.
“Such a tease,” he grunts, the hand by your skirt hem slipping underneath to tease across the gusset of your panties.
His fingers quickly feel out your pussy to rub up and down your slit.
“Mmm fuck, love this fat little pussy, princess,” he kisses the side of your neck, “gonna let me slide my cock in your tight, wet hole?”
Clenching the pencil in your hand, you grind back against his bulge, spreading your legs for him to tease your cunt through your damp panties even easier.
“I’ll think about it,” you sass and he groans, fingers finding your clit and softly rubbing circles around it.
“C’mon, baby, just sit on my cock, don’t even have to bounce on it, just wanna feel that snug little pussy around my dick.”
You squirm as more slick fills your panties, “I don’t know.. I really need to study, big brother. I’m trying to pass this class.”
“Fuck,” he rocks against you a little quicker, “just cockwarm me while you study, princess. Promise I’ll be on my best behavior. Really wanna feel you.”
You hum, pretending to think about it although internally you’re pleased as punch that he’s begging you.
You sigh good naturedly, “Is that really such a good idea? You’ve been pretty distracting.”
His fingers massage across your clit making your thighs jump as you bite your lip, eyes fluttering shut as pleasure bubbles up through your veins.
“Pinky promise I’ll be good,” he kisses your neck again, “pretty please, little sis? With sugar on top?”
You giggle at that, “Okay, Leon. But if you really distract me, I’m kicking you out.”
“Thank you,” he enthuses in your ear, fingers quickly moving your soaked panties down and off your legs.
Shifting your skirt, he pulls his sweats down to his knees, weeping cock now jutting up from between your thighs to rub against your slick pussy lips. He hooks his chin over your shoulder to look down at your lap.
He lazily thrusts against your cunt, “Can I do this for a sec, princess? Looks so fucking hot.”
You nod, eyes glued to the fat tip of his cock as precum beads at the slit to dribble down his shaft.
“Look at that chubby little pussy,” he groans, “fuck, ‘m the luckiest big brother, huh?”
“Uh huh,” you clench your thighs making him buck up a little harder, “so lucky I spoil you.”
“Yeah you do,” he readily agrees, cock rubbing against your cunt until you squirm against his lap.
“Putting it in now, princess,” he murmurs softly, pushing the fat tip past your clenching hole until he’s buried all the way to the hilt in your wet heat.
“Oh fuck, that’s it,” he hisses, teeth biting into your clothed shoulder, “so fucking wet and tight, y’got the perfect pussy, baby sis.”
Your cunt spasms and clenches down on his dick at his words.
“Go on, work on your problems and I’ll let you know if it’s wrong,” he chuckles, big hands moving to your hips to grip them tightly.
Tamping down the moan you feel wanting to break free, you try extra hard to concentrate on the paper in front of you and not your step brother's fat cock deliciously stretching you open.
Leon nuzzles into your neck, brushing some of your hair away so he can kiss and suck the skin in front of him.
“Leon,” you grit out, pussy fluttering around his cock as it throbs inside your slick walls, “behave.”
“I am,” he coos sweetly, “didn’t think something this small would get to you, princess.”
He nips at your neck and you whimper.
“I mean it.”
“Okay, okay,” he relents, settling back in the chair, “since you can’t handle it, I’ll just enjoy myself with—“
“I can handle it,” you huff out, “I can handle whatever you dish out.”
“Suure, princess,” he mocks, “you don’t have to pretend with me.”
“Go ahead, big brother,” you grind down on his lap making him hiss, cock kicking inside your soaked cunt, “I can study just fine.”
“Yeah?” he hums before chuckling and kissing your neck, “let’s see if you can.”
Nothing happens at first. Leon runs his hands up and down your sides, groping your hips before moving down to squeeze your thighs. It lulls you into a false sense of security and you easily go back to working on your practice test.
A gasp parts your lips when Leon’s hands sneak under your shirt to cup your breasts. Glaring at your paper, you ignore him although the slow drag of his fingers up to the stiff peaks of your chest makes your thighs tremble.
Cupping your breasts in his hands, he circles your hardening nipples with his thumbs, brushing back and forth and sending little electric currents of arousal straight to your clit.
“I don’t see you writing anymore,” he teases in your ear.
“I’m stuck on this problem,” you lie to cover up the fact Leon is making your cunt throb from playing with your nipples.
“Ohh,” he laughs, tugging on your hard buds gently before squeezing your tits, “let big brother take a look then.”
He leans over your shoulder and studies the paper on your desk. Humming, he keeps circling your sensitive nipples as he reads over the problem.
“Big brother,” you whine, hips swiveling down to feel his cock rut inside your pussy.
He grunts and pinches your nipples between his thumb and the knuckle of his forefinger before soothing the hard buds by dragging his fingers across them.
“It looks like you didn’t apply the correct formula, princess,” he breathes hotly next to your cheek, “try the quadratic equation.”
Body feeling like a live wire, you nod and go back to your schoolwork.
“It looks like you’re pretty much finished though,” he kisses your jaw, “wanna move this to the bed?”
He tugs on your puffy nipples until you squeal and bounce on his lap.
“I need to finish this, big brother,” you whimper as he keeps groping and teasing your breasts.
“C‘mon, we can work on it later,” he tempts you, “let me rail your wet cunt until I fill you to the brim, little sis.”
It sends a hot thrill down your spine to hear Leon say that instead of just doing whatever he wants with you; it gives you a boost of confidence.
“One more problem,” you compromise, “if you’re a good boy and don’t do anything else to distract me, I’ll let you take me to bed.”
“So bossy,” you can hear the smile in his voice, “deal, princess. I’ll be a good boy for you.”
That last part’s whispered in your ear and it makes you pull your shoulders up to your ears with a giggle even as more arousal pools in your belly. True to his word, Leon slips his hands away and holds onto your hips as he watches you work on your last math problem.
As soon as you set your pencil down, Leon is picking you up off of his lap, cock pulling out with a wet schlick that has you both moaning. He moves over to your bed, manhandling you back into his lap but this time facing each other.
“Do good boys get to fuck that juicy cunt, princess?” He smirks at you, flipping your skirt up so he can rub his slick coated cock against your pussy.
“Yes, big brother,” you lay your hands against his chest as you angle your hips and sink down on his cock with a whine, “good boys get my cute princess pussy.”
“Fucking hell,” he moans excitedly, “need it, princess. Sit on my fucking dick and ride me.”
Whining, you feel him bottom out as your ass meets his thighs.
“Pussy needed me to stuff her full, huh? Need big brother to wreck your perfect fucking pussy,” he rabbits his hips up into your squelching cunt, “tell me, princess.”
Your nails sink into his shirt, digging into the skin underneath, “Yes, yes, m’pussy needs big brother’s fat cock stretching her open.”
Leon kisses across your throat, sucking marks into the sensitive skin and making you squirm and buck your hips. With a snarl, he grabs onto your ass and bounces you faster on his cock.
“That’s right,” he chuckles at your fucked out expression, “my sweet baby sis just needs her big brother to take care of her.”
He kisses you roughly, tongue and lips devouring your own as spit leaks down your chin. Mewling, you roll your hips down, grinding your clit against his pelvis and making you cry out into his messy kisses. Leon snaps his hips up, burying his cock deep in your throbbing cunt.
“Wanna feel you milk my cock, princess,” he rumbles from low in his chest, “gonna give this hot pussy a nice creampie.”
“Big brother,” you whimper, hands pawing at his chest as you rock your hips into his rough thrusts, the sound of skin slapping loud in the room.
“That’s it, work my cock with that slutty princess cunt,” he hisses, one hand coming down to spank your ass.
Squealing, you clench around him as he keeps slapping his hand down on your ass cheek.
“Gonna make me cum, big brother,” you whine out, bouncing hard and fast in his lap, “gonna milk your cock so good.”
“Fuck me,” he groans, swapping to slap the other cheek, “such a tight cunt, princess. This little pussy’s just begging for a hot load, right?”
He angles his hips until his fat cock grinds against your g-spot on every thrust, tightening the band of arousal pooled in your belly.
Reaching down between you, his fingers rub soft, quick circles on your clit.
“Cum,” you mewl, “g’nna cum, big brother, Leon—“
A high pitched wail leaves your mouth, pussy clamping down on Leon’s dick— walls fluttering and milking him like crazy.
“So good,” Leon fucks his cock up into your clenching hole, “milking me so fucking good, princess. Gonna stuff this fat pussy like she deserves.”
He curses under his breath and buries his cock into your soaked hole. Groaning loudly, his cock spurts rope after rope of thick, sticky cum inside your wet heat. Rutting his cock softly inside your cunt, he shoots off again and again, painting your pussy walls white with his load.
Once his dick softens, he pulls out of you with a sigh and you slump forward onto his chest. His sticky spend drips down your thighs onto his softening cock.
“Mmm, wanna nap and pick it back up again?” He murmurs, petting down your back.
“Sure, after we clean up though.”
He laughs, “You got it, princess.”
#lipglossanon#paid request#kofi commission#stepbro!leon s kennedy#stepcest#stepbro!leon s kennedy x fem!reader smut#stepbro!leon s kennedy smut#stepbro!leon s kennedy x fem!reader#fem!reader#stepbro!leon s kennedy x reader smut#stepbro!leon s kennedy x reader#lipglossmasterlist#stepbro!leon s kennedy x you#stepbro!leon s kennedy/you
155 notes
·
View notes
Text
Hard Luck
It’s hard finding love when your sole reason to live is your daughter, but when her best friends dad is annoyingly attractive and might have something to do with your rent randomly getting paid, who can blame you for being a little curious?
||* mentions of masturbation (m receiving)
Chap i
The crisp autumn air carries a sense of nostalgia, which surprises you. It has been a while since you've experienced autumn in this way, but nostalgia is supposed to be a pleasant feeling, right?
Your daughter's small, chubby fingers firmly grip your hand as you playfully swing your arm out of her reach. You can't help but laugh at her adorable pout when you pull your hand away.
"I'm just teasing you," you say with a wide grin, extending your hand for her to take. "Stop being a grouch and hold my hand, RayRay!"
Her scowl quickly turns into a cheesy grin as she latches onto your hand. The sound of her pencil case and notebook thumping matches the rhythm of her skipping, and her glittery, purple sequin backpack bounces on her back.
Raya, or RayRay as you playfully call her, is your best friend. It's a bit sad, you know, but you've never really had time for friends. Ever since her dad left, she's been the only person in your life, aside from colleagues and your parents. And it's not so bad. She has adapted to your lifestyle, developed a sense of humor—her sarcasm is surprisingly on point for a nine-year-old.
The journey from your rundown apartment to her school isn't long, but it's far enough for the houses to transform from shabby boxes with crooked slate tiles to fancy condos with gleaming windows. It always amazes you how a few turns can take you to an area where people don't even know the meaning of a food bank.
You can tell by appearances alone that you don't fit in. The navy blue cable-knit sweater and boyfriend jeans, dirtied with mud stains, don't exactly scream, “I can afford more than one vacation a year!"
On the other hand, Raya always looks pristine. Well, maybe that's an exaggeration, but you'd rather wear nothing than have your daughter look as unkempt as you. Ensuring she has enough clean, stain-free clothes is your number one priority.
As you round a corner, narrowly missing a puddle that Raya "only wanted to look at" and not jump in, her disappointed expression gives her away.
Parents bustle around, urgently trying to retrieve their kids from the playground. It's nearly impossible to spot her teacher amidst the crowd of what seems like millions of moms, dressed in thick white scarves and thigh-high brown boots.
And then you hear it—a loud screech that, under different circumstances, would signify fear instead of the original joy it was intended for. "RAYYYY!" an excited girl squeals from the opposite end of the playground. Her dark brown hair is scraped back into a painfully tight ponytail as she races toward your daughter.
The two girls jump up and down gleefully, holding each other closely. It's a nice seeing her not alone.
You're so engrossed in watching your daughter giggle with her friend that you fail to notice the tall man standing next to you. What catches your attention first is his cologne—it's expensive.
The scent of thick oak is overpowering on its own, but it's tempered by the most unremarkable shower gel known to man.
"They're cute, aren't they?" he asks, causing you to turn your head and face him. You bite your lower lip for a moment, trying to figure out who this guy is. "Yeah... they are," you murmur, tilting your head to the side.
"I'm sorry, who are you?" Your words come out ruder than you intended, but you can't be bothered to fix your manners when a surprisingly attractive man is staring at your daughter, enjoying her time with another child. If you weren't genuinely confused about his identity, you might have reacted more strongly. Instead, you stand there, arms folded and brow furrowed.
"I'm... sorry, I'm Gabi's dad," he explains, his tone surprisingly apologetic.
That's her name.
"I'm Raya's dad," you reply, nodding toward the two girls. Hearing who he is instantly eases your fear that he might be something worse than just a father.
An awkward silence ensues as the man continues to study your appearance, seemingly taking you in. With a soft laugh, he smiles at you—a warm and irritatingly charismatic smile. "You don't look like a dad," he grins.
You open your mouth to give him a sharp, quick-witted retort, but your expression falters when you realize your mistake. Refusing to let this stranger have the upper hand in your first interaction, you smirk at him. "What do you mean?" you ask, poking your tongue past your lips to swipe across your teeth.
He instantly catches on to your smirk, and to be honest, it's endearing. "Because you don't look likea typical dad," he responds, matching your quickness. The same mischievous grin is plastered on both of your faces as you engage in a playful stare-down.
This morning, when you hastily applied expired mascara and cheap lip balm while trying to wake up Raya, you never expected to encounter such an annoyingly funny and undeniably attractive man—by your standards, at least.
With high cheekbones, thick eyebrows, and broad shoulders, anyone would take a second look at him.
The loud peal of the school bell interrupts your scrutinizing gaze, drawing your attention back to your daughter. You quickly give her a kiss on the cheek, and she instinctively wipes it away while giving you a glare, before you push her towards the school entrance.
The man—whose name you still don't know, aside from being Gabi's father—does the same, but his daughter doesn't wipe away the kiss.
"When I asked who you were, I was hoping for a name," you mutter, mostly to yourself, but hoping he hears it too.
"Miguel," he responds, his voice lacking the warmth he had when his daughter was present.
"I'm..." you begin to introduce yourself, but he cuts you off, his voice now tinged with cockiness.
"I know who you are," he says, raising an eyebrow. Your scoff makes it clear how creepy he sounds. "Gabi talks about Raya a lot, and with you being her mother, it's only natural."
You narrow your eyes at Miguel, feeling a mix of surprise and curiosity. Raya is your world, and beyond that, you've kept everything else tightly guarded. It's a defense mechanism, a way to shield yourself from potential hurt or judgment.
"What exactly does Gabi say about Raya?" you ask, your voice tinged with caution. You're not sure if you should be flattered or concerned that your daughter is a topic of conversation between Miguel and his daughter.
Miguel chuckles, seemingly amused by your response. "She just talks about how funny and cool Raya is," he replies. "They've become good friends at school. Gabi is always excited to see her."
There's feel a sense of relief that washes over you. It's comforting to know that Raya has found a friend who appreciates her for who she is.
“Well I need to go,” you say while motioning over to the school gates. “Work and stuff.”
He nods his head, expression just as nonchalant as it was moments ago.
***
After dropping off Raya at school, and a brief yet intriguing conversation with Miguel, you head back home. It's considerably warmer now than it was before; sun poking out of the clouds, shining down onto the leaf-littered pavement. The odd car whizzes past and it's all you can do to jump away in time before it splashes you in murky brown liquid.
Fortunately for you, you don't have to leave for work until ten so you get some time to yourself. As soon as you unlock the door to your apartment, it took longer than you'd like to admit as you forgot which way to turn the key, you flop down onto the worn-in sofa. It creaks beneath you- a sign that you need to get a new one.
If you had the money, you would. God, if you had the money you’d move out of this shitty apartment and into… anywhere else. Maybe a house on the coast would be nice, or one of those fancy condos by Raya’s school. Either way, you want out.
You feel your eyes grow heavy, the temptation to allow yourself a few moments of sleep all too good. With a low groan, you pull yourself up off the sofa and drag your feet over to the kitchen to make yourself some coffee.
You open the jar only to find a minuscule amount granules left- six to be exact. All you want is that burst of energy and yet you are denied it. “Fuck me,” you grumble under your breath.
***
Even though it was a painfully short moment between the two of you, Miguel decides you are tolerable. Okay, maybe you’re more than tolerable, he'll settle for bearable as he's feeling especially nice today. You’re funny, well that might be a bit dramatic since he hasn’t even had a proper conversation with you, but you made him laugh- internally that is.
But right now he needs to push you, the nice lady with a pretty smile and even prettier face, out of his mind. He has to focus on this paperwork that's been sitting on his desk for God knows how long.
Begrudgingly, he picks up his pen with a sigh and starts scrawling his signature on the limitless reams of paper. It's all nonsense about him signing off on random projects, and safety procedures and- those sweet lips.
Something about you is intoxicating. Even when he was skimming through the infinite amount of universes, you didn't seem that special. Yes, there were the odd facts that caught his attention but everything else just seemed… dull. So why now, after not even a full five minutes of your company, can't he get you out of his head?
At first, he assumes it's because you’re oddly charismatic but that's not it. You weren't even trying, you just didn't want him to pull a fast one on you. Maybe, just maybe, he underestimated your personality and being around you as a real person and not some fact file actually made you likeable- no, bareable.
Double checking his office door is closed and the blind is pulled down over the frosted glass before sliding back into his chair. “LYLA,” he calls out, words muffled by his head in his hands.
There’s a small glitch next to him that quickly turns into a digitalized woman. “You called?” LYLA asks, hands on her hips.
Fuck he feels guilty but maybe seeing that cocky smirk on your face will ease the culpability he’s feeling. “You… you know what I want and I don’t want teasing or anything about it, just do it, ‘kay?” Miguel’s voice is gruff, full of an annoyance he doesn’t even know he’s feeling.
“Why would I tease you about wanting to innocently look at something?” she drawls with a smirk.
He shoots her a look, an unamused one at that. Giggling childishly, LYLA pulls up a screen full of writing. Miguel’s eyes flicker back and forth trying to find something until he catches a glimpse of your name.
He swipes and flicks the blue pixels a few times before your socials are pulled up. It’s nothing much, just your Twitter, Facebook and a surprising amount of Instagram accounts. That, makes him laugh. He can tell exactly which ones are the accounts you use for stalking people and which ones are for actually posting things.
There are mostly pictures of you and Raya together on days out but there are a few of you on nights out nights out alone. He immediately notices you never post anything with friends and it’s oddly comforting because it’s not just drunk girls with smeared eyeliner that’s missing from your pictures. It’s a boyfriend as well.
Not that he wants to fill that missing gap in your selfies, he's just feeling a little lonely cooped up in his office. He's in this universe for Gabi and no one else, not the lady with a pretty smile.
Just as he’s about to zoom in on a picture that shows an alluring amount of your cleavage, LYLA cuts him off. “I like her smile,” she says while getting up a different picture. This time it’s one of you and Raya in last year's Halloween costumes. Pirates. That’s the two of you had dressed up as.
You’d drawn a black beard on her face, Raya’s outfit cute with the oversized black and white striped shirt meanwhile you… A tight black and red corset pushes your chest in a way that makes something inside Miguel stir.
He shouldn't be looking at you like this- it's wrong and perverse. The two of you only met today and yet he's salivating over a picture of you in a Halloween costume. Yet he can't stop himself from allowing his body to react to the way you look.
That feeling slips down from his chest to his gut until it eventually reaches his crotch. You look so pretty like that, cheeks appled and eyes wide as you pull a stupid face with your daughter. The picture is innocent enough in its own right but seeing you in something ever so slightly revealing makes his brain malfunction.
He bets could make you prettier, more gorgeous than ever if you let him. His cum painting your perfectly plump lips and his hands gripping bruises into your supple flesh.
#atsv miguel#miguel o'hara#miguel spiderman#miguel spiderverse#miguel x reader#miguel x you#spiderman 2099#spider man 2099#afab reader#dad miguel o'hara#gabriella o’hara
166 notes
·
View notes
Text
Starved: Edition 1
Alejandro Vargas x soft!reader/chubby!reader
(Sticking with the archivist!reader for most of my fics bc it’s an easy pov for me to write since I’m a history major at university)
i just have a soft personality and i’ve never felt the touch of a man, so i write these to make myself feel better😭. Basically just Ale with his soft/chubby partner and him figuring out how starved for affection they are. This is how they are introduced! Let me know if you guys want to read more :D
My Masterlist🌱
Warnings: Fluff
(Future parts would have smut if anyone is interested in me continuing this!!)
You’d only worked on base for a month or so. You’d gotten to know your rounds, and you’ve memorized faces and names. You knew basically everyone since it was your job to keep track of things, as the base archivist. Sorting records and files, keeping up with people’s paperwork, etc. You had hardly met, let alone seen the Los Vaqueros team though. It was a rare occasion when they were on base- only for important missions where both teams were needed at once. There was an upcoming mission that fell under this category. The Los Vaqueros started arriving on base, and everything was a scramble to get sorted. You noticed the mess of it all, the lack of organization.
‘Organization. If there’s one thing I’m good at- it’s that.’ You thought to yourself with a faint smile.
You grab one of your empty notebooks that you kept for whenever you needed to keep a record of something new, and you clip a few pencils and pens on the front pocket of your shirt. You brushed your hair back as you headed down the hall quickly, trying not to get in anyone’s way. You were fairly good at being unnoticeable, despite you looking different from everyone else. You had one of the only jobs where physical fitness wasn’t a main requirement. It was odd, being surrounded by a sea of muscle- especially muscular men. You had to admit, though.. for the first time in your life- you were the small one. And that didn’t feel half bad.
You notice Captain Price barking out orders as he tries to get everything sorted, the Los Vaqueros men bringing in shipments of cargo and supplies and setting them wherever there was space. You walk up gently, narrowly avoiding getting hit by a man carrying a few crates, and you tap on Price’s shoulder. He quickly turns, prepared to continue barking orders, but he sees your soft demeanor and his anger fades slightly.
“Captain?” You say softly, a small smile on your face. “If you’d like- I could take over.” You chuckle as you gesture to your notebook. “It’s want I’m good at, after all.”
He looks down at you with a smile creeping up onto his lips. He shakes his head in amusement and pulls off his hat, brushing a hand through his short hair. He looks around at the mess of it all, everything askew.
“If you think you can order these Vaqueros’ around.. then be my guest, love.” He chuckles faintly, backing up and leaning on the wall slightly, arms crossed over his chest after he puts his hat back on.
You stand in the middle of the wide space, looking at all of the cargo being brought in, trying to mentally keep track of it. You look at the men, none of them paying you even a spare glance. You could try to yell to get their attention- but your voice always cracked when you tried. You didn’t need to embarrass yourself already in front of the Los Vaqueros. You glance around, noticing a taller man at the entrance, talking to every man that passed through the doors. He looked like he was in charge.. You gently walk up to him, being careful not to bump into anyone. You tap his shoulder, just like you’d done to Price moments ago. You watch him turn, looking down at you, his eyebrows raising slightly.
“Excuse me” you say softly, trying your best to be sweet. “Captain Price told me I could help you and your men organize everything- since I know the base well. Would it be too much trouble for you to ask your men to give me their attention?”
Your voice comes out smaller than you would’ve liked it, feeling little under his hard gaze. You watch him glance up, his eyes meeting Price’s for just a moment. He looks back down, eyes scanning your form. He especially wasn’t used to seeing someone like you on a military base. He could tell you were nervous- how you chose your words carefully, trying your best not to offend him. He chuckled under his breath, amused at how quiet you were. He leans down slightly, his face closer to yours.
“And why can’t you ask my Vaqueros’ for their attention directly, pequeño?” He says, a faint smirk crossing his lips.
You feel your cheeks heat up slightly under his gaze, but you smile, trying to play it off.
“I didn’t want to risk undermining your authority, sir.” You say back sweetly, clearly doing your best to please him.
His smirk broadens when he hears how soft you are, your body reflecting your personality. He stands up straight again, whistling and directing his men’s attention to him.
“Vaqueros!” He calls out firmly. “El suave wants to give you orders.” He chuckles, voice laced with amusement, but also smugness. “Listen to them, eh?” He murmurs before he grabs your shoulders, turning you around and pressing on your lower back, making you walk towards the center of the room.
Your cheeks heat up more when you realize how many eyes you have glued to you, some, if not all, laced with amusement.
“H-hello.” You say softly as you look around at them all, trying your best to be nice. “I’m y/n- the base archivist here. I know you all don’t want to be taking orders from a little guy like me- but I promise it’ll flow a lot smoother.” You chuckle with a faint smile, clearly trying to ease their minds and make yourself less anxious.
You hear some of them snort and laugh with incredulity, playfully bumping against the shoulders of one another, as if saying ‘get a load of this one.’ You take a shaky breath, opening your notebook and pulling a pen out of your shirt pocket.
“If we could get rations, weapons, basic survival gear, and fatigues all sorted into different piles- that would be a great start.” You say softly, eyes slightly wide as you stand still, wondering if they’d pay you any mind.
After a few moments of silence, the men start to glance at each other before they start walking towards the cargo, reading the labels and sorting you. You breathe a soft sigh of relief, a relaxed smile crossing your lips. Suddenly you feel a little tap on your shoulder, and you turn around, met with the smirk of the man in charge.
“Listen, pequeño.” He murmurs quietly, leaning down to be closer to your height. “Don’t be so shy with my men. They like a little fire, no?” He chuckles.
Your cheeks flush further, you eyes a little wider as you gaze into his own.
“R-right.” You murmur softly. “Of course. And your name was..?” You ask softly, reaching out your hand, offering a hand shake.
He chuckles at your stuttering, gently taking your hand in his and shaking it.
“Colonel Alejandro Vargas. Leader of the Los Vaqueros. And I take it you’re the 141’s little.. therapy bunny?” He smirks, letting go of your hand and putting his hands behind his back.
The hint in his words makes you sigh, shaking your head in amusement as you smile faintly.
“I’m not a barracks bunny, if that’s what you’re implying Mr. Vargas.” You say softly, eyebrows raised as you look at him with a chastising gaze.
“Mister?” He grins. “I don’t remember the last time I wasn’t called Colonel.”
“I’d rather talk to you as a human first and a rank second.. if that’s alright with you.” You smile softly, holding your notebook to your chest.
His smile grows more genuine. He couldn’t remember the last time someone humanized him.. the last time he wasn’t just a soldier.
“That is perfectly fine with me, pequeño.” He says softly before patting your shoulder gently. “I’m sure I’ll be seeing more of you.” He murmurs as he leans down, flashing you a teasing smirk and a small wink.
Before he steps away completely, he pauses and leans in to whisper into your ear.
“For what it’s worth, little one.. you wouldn’t make for a bad therapy bunny.” He whispers teasingly before he steps away with a smirk.
He slips past you slyly, making his way to go talk to Price before they walk down the hall together. You watch him spare you one last glance as he looks over his shoulder at you, the smirk still glued to his lips.
‘Oh.. right.’ You whisper to yourself, the heat in your cheeks not going away anytime soon.
I hope you guys enjoyed this!! If you’d like a part 2, please let me know- I’m going to try and do a different fic series for every CoD boy, and this idea for Ale just popped into my head first. I’ll be writing more Simon soon too since you guys loved the Sugar And Spice starter so much!!
Asks are always open, and so are tips! I’ll be adding ask rules to my masterlist soon, but in the mean time don’t be afraid to send anything!! <3
#mickey’s thoughts#call of duty#cod x reader#cod mw2#alejandro x reader#alejandro vargas#alejandro cod#alejandro x you#Alejandro x plus-size reader#Alejandro x chubby reader#alejandro vargas cod#alejandro vargas x reader#alejandro vargas x you#Alejandro Vargas x chubby reader#Alejandro Vargas x soft reader#cod x gn!reader#gn reader#gender neutral reader#x reader#cod mwii#cod modern warfare#cod mw3#cod mwf2#x chubby reader#x plus size reader#x soft reader#141 x reader#18+ blog#cod x y/n#cod x you
107 notes
·
View notes
Note
heyy. New to your blog and I think your writing is just so cute!! If you're still taking requests I'd really like a strawberry with slice of cucumbers for Tobio. If not then please feel free to ignore!
How You Met
word count: 1288 || avg. reading time: 6 mins.
pairing: post-time skip Kageyama x chubby!Reader
genre: fluff
warnings: spoilers, the tiniest pinch of suggestiveness
____________________________________________
Tobio rushed out of the locker room.
Wakatoshi didn‘t even bother anymore to ask him if he wanted to stay after practice to work on perfecting their attacks. For over two weeks the setter had always left at 7.32 p.m. on the dot, hurrying to catch his train.
Wakatoshi applauded his seeming dedication to work-life-balance while Hoshiumi just looked up at his fellow spiker with an annoyed crease in his brow, “That‘s great and all, but who is gonna set for us now?“
Truth be told, Tobio could have taken any train home. It was all the same to him. There was nothing in his apartment that needed his urgent attention and having Ushijima-san ask him for more spike sets sounded like a great night but somehow volleyball had recently taken a backseat for the most peculiar reason.
His strides lengthened as he ran to the train station, his breath steadily forming little clouds in front of him.
Arriving at the platform, his eyes tried to find you in the myriad of commuters for those precious few minutes in his day. Every morning and every evening for the last couple of weeks you had taken the same train as him. You had caught his attention when you couldn‘t hold back a cheer in the crowded train as your eyes were glued to your phone. When he had glanced at the screen he saw a live stream of a volleyball match of a rivaling team. At first he wanted to move closer to watch along but then he actually noticed you - apologizing profusely to the people around you who had thrown you dirty looks upon your outburst. You had tucked your phone into the pocket of your blazer. Your hair was put up to a somewhat tidy bun, a few strands loose from what appeared to have been a long day. A lanyard around your neck held an employee ID. All together with the pencil skirt made him certain you were some kind of office worker. He had seen you knead the strap of your bag and chew your bottom lip, looking impatient at every stop the train made until yours came and you practically jumped outside to bring out your phone again. You seemed to have checked the score and did a little dance when the doors of the train closed and Tobio was left with the rapidly disappearing image of you excitedly greeting a friend at your platform before the train picked up speed again.
So he just kind of started keeping an eye out for you.
You got on in the morning, calm and composed, maybe looking over a file in your hand or tapping around on your phone sifting through emails, while in the afternoon a much more relaxed version boarded the train, rolling your shoulders and stretching your neck.
And it didn‘t take long for him to drift off whenever he saw you, imagining where you worked, wondering if you had a boyfriend, if you would consider getting rid of the boyfriend if one existed, which volleyball team you supported, if you had played yourself, what your favorite volleyball position was and so on.
The first time you had spotted THE Kageyama Tobio on your train your heart had stopped and your brain almost gone into fangirl-overdrive. Not only were his gaming stats absolutely insane but then he also had to go and look like that! A couple of times you had let yourself live in a little daydream where you were absolutely sure he was throwing shy glances in your direction and you had checked your hair in the reflection of the train window before scolding yourself for such an absurd thought. Chances were slim to none that he would notice some chubby intern, blending in almost too well with the rest of the business crowd.
But that didn‘t stop you from looking forward to your commutes more than ever. How lucky was it that his training always ended perfectly with your workday! It was about time something good came your way.
Today however, you were late and were already worried you would miss out on your evening fix of his striking features. The commuter-packed train was still in view when you gathered every last ounce of strength and sprinted towards the closing doors. You made it just in time, feeling sweaty but accomplished - and were now face to face with Kageyama Tobio.
His last two functioning brain cells started screaming in panic because you were so very close. Great, you were even prettier than he had originally assessed. He remembered that Hoshiumi told him on a few occasions already not to stare at people but… how could he not?
The commuters behind him pushed when the train shook a little over an uneven part in the rails and he stretched out his arm to catch himself. His hand was pressed against the window of the door a couple of inches next to your ear. (Oh, was this one of those Kabedon-things Hoshiumi had talked about a while ago?) There was about one regulation-conform volleyball’s size space between you and him now. His eyes almost automatically darted to your lips and his breathing became shallow. When he managed to bring his gaze back up, your eyes met and he was sure that this was what a heart attack felt like. His cheeks were burning.
How could someone‘s eyes be this blue, you wondered. He was so close, the smell of his aftershave made you dizzy - in a good way. More than anything you would have just loved to ask for his autograph or talk to him. You also would happily invite this man for a coffee … and then bang him like a church door on Sunday. Gosh, he really was so pretty. Okay, pure thoughts.
With another jolt the train soon came to a stop and a new mass of people piled in, sardining everyone all the more and ensuring that Kageyama moved in even further. His profile must have lied, you decided. He must be taller than 1.88m the way he towered over you. The large hand that was still right next to you with those long fingers made you speculate how he would- Pure thoughts, pure thoughts, you reprimanded yourself. But it wasn‘t easy - his body radiated this incredible heat, no doubt a remnant from the certainly rigorous training he just had. Your face was all but pressed to his chest now and you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to focus on a report you had to write for your boss. He smelled like fresh laundry, oh no. God, please don’t ever let this train ride end.
You didn’t hear the melodic voice overhead announcing your stop and so when the door opened behind you, you lost your balance, seemingly stumbling backward in slow motion. And a hand shot out. A muscular arm wrapped securely around your waist and you just knew you had died and gone to heaven when you looked into the startlingly beautiful eyes of the Kageyama Tobio. The grumbling and annoyed mutters of the people having to swerve around you two didn’t even register because he was still holding you, in a sort of dip like you would see on the cover of a romance book.
“Thank you.”, you said breathlessly, amazed by how strong he must be to hold you so casually.
You waited for his response. Your heart pounding in your chest, imagining 10034 different ways he could react right now from swooning one liners to scandalous remarks that would leave you blushing and melting in his touch.
His mouth opened. This was it. Oh, Kageyama-sama…
“… Do… you… like volleyball?”
____________________________________________
a/n: thank you for your sweet words! I really hope you had as much fun reading this as I had writing it. This was such a passion project cause I have been dying to write a “close proximity pining” for a more stoic character this whole time!! I wanted this to feel like a silly romantic comedy anime.
Special thanks to @makkir0ll for unraveling my ramblings and helping me keep my thoughts coherent ✨
#sunnys lemonade stand#kageyama x chubby reader#haikyuu x chubby reader#chubby reader#haikyuu fluff#kageyama x reader#kageyama tobio#haikyuu kageyama#kageyama tobio x chubby reader#kageyama tobio x reader#hq kageyama
79 notes
·
View notes
Text
Apple Cherry Blossom
Pairing: Luca x Blossom OC
Summary: Luca would like a little jealousy from his wife now and again.
Length: 1166 words
Warnings: None
A/N: I couldn't help myself 😭. I got inspired by “The Story of Ming Lan” and had to write this out. I hope you enjoy this out-of-the-blue post.
..
She held a half-eaten cherry in one hand and a pencil in the other. The account book on the desk in front of her laid open was for their new house. She would have to keep track of things like that now that she was officially a Changretta and a homemaker.
She put the rest of the cherry in her mouth, pitting it with her molars and tongue. Just when she was finished, a cup appeared in front of her mouth and she dropped the pit in to join the growing pile. Before she could think about it, another cherry was being held to her lips.
The attendant was none other than her husband who seemed both deep into the story he was telling her about his trip around town that led him to obtain a half pound of cherries, yet alert enough to steadily alternate between feeding them to her and providing a bowl to spit pits into.
She looked away from the amount they paid the butcher every month and up to Luca who was talking wildly with his free hand while patiently holding the cherry with the other.
“And finally we were walking through the street and this girl runs up to Ronnie. Would you believe it was Angela Cappoli? Could barely recognize her since she’s all grown up. And- here, it’s sweet,” Luca said, stopping his own story to push the fruit onto her.
She leaned back and picked up her glass of water first, taking a sip before catching the plump dark purple fruit between her teeth and letting him pull the stem.
“Angela Cappoli, can you believe it? Ma used to say we’d get married, you know?”
“Really? Why?”
“The Cappoli’s were bigger than us when I was in her belly, and she said a marriage could bring us together since Mrs. Cappoli was pregnant at the same time. Never worked out,” he concluded. Blossom nodded then dropped the pit in the cup. “You don’t have to worry about anything like that.”
“Worry?”
“Well we were a little sweet on each other for a while,” he admitted sheepishly. “But it wasn’t anything to be upset about.”
“I’m not upset, though?” She pointed out before before going back to her book. Luca blinked at her the squinted a bit. The next cherry from the little carton went to his mouth instead. This was his fault, really.
He was too honest and straightforward with her. He never wanted some miscommunication to come from vague, choppy words so he just told her everything. Blossom, therefore, didn’t worry about him lying to her. In conclusion, she had no reason to be the jealous type, sometimes to his dismay.
“It was a long time ago,” he continued carefully. “But today, she was real chatty. Kept reminiscing on old dates we had. And then she ran and gave me some of her parents’ apples.” He went back to feeding Blossom cherries, this time doing two in succession to watch her cheeks get a little chubby. “Don’t worry, I gave the apples to my sister-in-law.”
“You should’ve kept them, you like apples,” she said absently while flipping to a new page. Luca stared at her in disbelief.
“If my father told my mother, the sensible woman she is, that he’d taken the apples from an old sweetheart, even she’d give him a wack,” he told her. “And you’re not even the slightest bit worried about Angela?”
“Who cares about Angela? You’ve been talking for 20 minutes and haven’t even told me where these cherries came from,” Blossom reminded him. “Even if you wanted to marry her on your own, I wouldn’t mind if you took the apples. Your mother probably puts up a fuss to make your father feel good too. I doubt she thinks he’ll get taken away.”
Her mouth dropped open, ready to eat another cherry only to find there was none. She looked up, following Luca’s movements as he put the carton down and stood, heading to the couch. He laid out over the velvet and then looked at her with a dissatisfied face that was too similar to what children who felt wronged would pull. What was wrong with him now?
“You could pretend at least,” Luca grumbled. Blossom’s eyes roamed over his spread-out figure as she pondered. She was well within her rights to ignore him, and even confront him about being the strangest man she’d ever met. He wanted her to act foolish over another woman after all of the years they’d been together. No one could invite trouble, insist on it even, like him.
After a moment she stood. Picking up her glass, she took a healthy drink before tossing the last quarter at her husband and slamming the glass back onto her desk. Luca jolted, sitting straight up as he spluttered from the water up his nose. He blinked away droplets only to find Blossom with her hands on her hips.
“I leave you alone for one afternoon, and you go get yourself a woman to follow you around town?! A dog would be more loyal,” she scoffed. Luca blinked at her as she tsked and shook her head. “I should’ve known you weren’t over her. Her and her damn apples. Bastard.”
She clicked her tongue loudly and ignored the fact that the smile growing on Luca’s face had reached its widest point before he even knew to pretend like he wasn’t giddy. Luca wiped his chin and stood, walking around the coffee table to her.
“I haven’t thought about her in ages. Couldn’t even tell you what she was wearing. I only have my eyes on you. Ronnie’s got to keep me from walking in the street ‘cause I can’t see straight.”
Blossom turned from him and stopped herself from laughing at his ridiculousness. She only allowed a brief smile before rolling her eyes and putting her stern face back on. Luca’s arms didn’t waste a moment before they wrapped around her fully, almost making her lose balance.
“You’re mouth’s too sweet. Keeping me full of cherries just to pacify me. I shouldn’t have even let you come home. Go sleep on the street,” She scolded him the best she could with his face nuzzling into the crook of her neck. She could feel his grin.
“I have such a good wife. I’d sleep on the doorstep if you didn’t let me in. Happily.”
“I’ll let you off this time, but only because you can’t convince me you could find someone else to put up with you,” she concluded haughtily. Now that, he knew, was straight from her heart.
“I’ll go easier on my second wife,” he muttered, eyes closed peacefully even when Blossom’s head whipped around to him and tried unwrapping his arms that only wrapped tighter.
“Huh?!”
“Ah ah, stay like this. I’m just teasing. You’re my only wife until the end. The cherries are from Miss Martin. She said you’re sweet and pay good prices for her produce.”
Blossom muttered but finally leaned back into his embrace, “Rascal.”
#Luca x Blossom#Blossom OC#Peaky Blinders Imagine#Luca Changretta#Luca Changretta Fic#Luca Changretta Imagine#Luca Changretta x OC
135 notes
·
View notes
Text
ⵌ ꜰᴀᴡɴ ⨾ 𝙎𝙘𝙤𝙩𝙩 𝘽𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧
bratty!sub!scott x dom!chubby!milf!teacher!reader, semi-public sex (in a classroom), reader is referred to as 'Miss', reader is kinda sorta manipulative if you squint, mentions of his bitchass stepmom. 1.3k words.
“God, why do you always have to make this so hard for me?!” Scott whines, pacing in front of your desk. You sit at your desk, hands folded with your chin resting on them, your eyes following him as he goes back and forth.
He was always a brat. Always, without fail. His father requested you to give him some tutoring after school so he could keep his grades up and, in turn, stay on the football team.
“You’re so stupid! Do you even know what you’re doing?! Why can’t I get another teacher? Why can’t Mr. Scarbrow tutor me?! At least he acts like he cares!” he continued, making you roll your eyes and let out a heavy sigh, your hands going to massage your temples. He was such an insufferable student. He was never not complaining about something. Without fail, Scott found something to complain about. The temp of the room, the other students being annoying, something.
“Scott,” you begin, and your tone makes Scott stop to look up at you, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. “Yeah?” you give him a warm, maternal smile, and the poor boy’s entire body racked with a shudder. “How about we move onto another problem, hm? Here,” you stand and walk to the board. He swallows, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as his eyes stay fixed on your ass in the ungodly tight pencil skirt you decided to wear as you move around, the sound of your heels clicking against the linoleum fading into the background of Scott’s little world. You pick up the marker and begin writing.
“So we have your preimage, and your image. Now, when you move it, you’re translating, like so…” and now your voice fades into the background. All Scott could focus on was your wide hips and thick legs, your white blouse letting him faintly see the band of your sapphire blue bra. He slides into the desk at the very front of the class, shifting around and bouncing his legs to distract him from the growing tent in his sweatpants.
With his hands gripping the front edge of the desk, he licks his lips once more and swallows, his tummy coiling. Maybe, just maybe, he could get away with it…
So he tries. As your back is turned, Scott trails his hand down, shoving it into his sweatpants. He rubs his shaft over his boxers, fingers fiddling with the opening. Once his hand makes contact with his shaft, he whimpers. “Oh…”
You turn to look at him. “Scott?” He freezes, and slowly looks up at you, his baby blues wide with shock. You set the marker down and walk up to him, a warm smile on your face. “And what do we have here, hm~?”
Scott was absolutely fucked. How would he explain this? ‘Sorry Miss, I got horny and was jacking off to your ass’?
“Uh, I uh, uh,” “Shh,” you respond, reaching down to gently caress his cheek. “Shhh, it’s alright Scotty.” You give him another warm smile, making him whimper. You reminded him so much of his stepmother, but better. He didn’t feel gross, he felt fulfilled.
“Can you stand up for me Scott?” He nods, removing his hand and standing up. You led him to your desk, then took a seat atop it, leaving Scott there, standing before you like a lost child. “Um, Miss?” He murmurs to you, all his brattiness gone. “Miss,” “ah-ah, this entire time you’ve been acting out, Scotty. You have to listen to me now, alright?”
He nods. “‘M listening.” He watches as you reach forward and brush your fingers through his curls. “Good boy, come here, come closer.” You coax him forward as if he was an animal you were attempting to befriend. He leans into your touch, stepping closer until he’s flush against you, standing between your legs. His hands come to rest on your thighs, kneading the flesh, making his cock twitch.
All of you - your whole body made Scott writhe with need. The stretch marks on your inner thighs, the pudge of your stomach, your plush breasts making a few buttons of your blouse look like they were holding on by a thread, literally. You lean back on your hands, allowing Scott’s hands to roam your body. “Miss, can I?”
You give him that same warm smile. “Of course.” Wasting no time, Scott pushes the front of your skirt up, and his knees nearly buckle at the sight of your lace panties that were the same sapphire color your bra was. Like the teenage boy he was, he quickly shoved his bottoms down in one go, tugged your panties to the side, and guided his cock into your hole (after missing a couple times).
As soon as his tip is engulfed by your gummy walls, he whines and plants his hands flat onto the desk. “Ohh god,” He whimpers out, hips stuttering. Poor thing couldn’t even handle it! You reach up and stroke his rosy cheek with the pad of your thumb. “Shh, good boy Scott.” He leans down and rests his forehead on your shoulder, his abs flexing as he tries to not look like too much of a little bitch.
You reach down and gently wrap your free hand around his shaft, guiding him into your pussy, your legs wrapped around his waist to aid in moving him towards you. “There you go sweetie, there you go.” Once Scott was finally bottomed out inside you, he bucks his hips subconsciously, needing some sort of stimulation. “Hnn,”
Letting out a soft laugh, you reach up to press a soft kiss to his cheek. “Keep going Scotty, you can do it,” you murmur into his ear. Your voice was so gentle and maternal, he couldn’t take it. He reaches up and fumbles with your buttons, tugging at the thin fabric of your blouse. You let him figure it out, watching as he tugs it apart, finally getting access. He lifts his head and when he sees the plush fat of your chest, he lets out a sob.
Scott was so incredibly overstimulated - his cock buried inside you, the sight of your matured body, raging hormones. He tugs at the cups of your bra eagerly, pulling them down. “Scotty,” you coo, your hand now resting on the back of his neck. “You can move for me, yeah? You can move for Miss?”
Hearing you refer to yourself in third person made Scott let out a half-groan half-whine. He nods eagerly. “C’mon, use your words, love.” He swallows and tries to catch his breath. “Nnh, yeah, uh-huh, gonna…”
You give him a fake pout. “Poor baby,” Scott nods. He wasn’t even really coherent anymore, he was just trying to keep from falling to his knees. Finally finding the strength, he begins to buck his hips forward, rutting instead of thrusting properly. He babbles incoherently, his brows furrowed and voice strained. He leans down and buries his face in your tits, his hands squeezing at them as well. “‘na, gonna, ha, ssss, oh,” Scott slurs.
He cries out, hands finding your biceps for support as he spills his load inside you without warning. You just run your hand through his hair, raking your nails along his scalp. “Good boy, Scotty.” He murmurs something incoherent in response. “Did so well sweetie.” He murmurs a repetition of your praise, drawing a soft giggle from you, and earning him a kiss on his warm forehead.
It was rare that Scott was able to earn praise from anyone. His father, his stepmother, not even his coach would make him feel this special. You knew full well you had no business doing this, but seeing him so pathetic and brought down off his imaginary high horse filled you with satisfaction. Knowing he had no one else to cry to (besides Mr. Scarbrow, but you would make sure Scott kept his mouth closed!) except you made you shiver with a perverted sense of power. In due time, Scott would act up again - you would just have to put him back in his place.
#₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ bnuuy's fics!#૮( ꩜ ㅅ ꩜)ა bnuuy loves scott barringer#higher ground#higher ground smut#scott barringer#sub! scott barringer#dom!reader#scott barringer smut#scott barringer x reader#scott barringer x reader smut#scott barringer x you#scott barringer x y/n#scott barringer fanfic#scott barringer imagine#hayden christensen#hayden christensen smut#higher ground scott barringer#scott barringer higher ground#scott barringer x chubby!reader
92 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
