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murdrdocs · 3 months

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venus fly

description. the pollen that sprayed in LUKE CASTELLAN's face earlier this morning has some really weird effects. not that he's complaining.

a continuation of this drabble

includes. sex pollen SUGGESTIVE CONTENT 18+, accidental drugging, loser!luke, best friend!reader, demeter!reader, implied oral (f and m receiving), slightly perv!luke, aftercare almost nonexistent

wc: 4.5k+

a/n: the long awaited sex pollen fic. title from venus fly by grimes. no explicit smut ahead. artwork credit unknown.

Your shirt is fitting you really well.

Your lips are moving, you’re saying something to Luke, he assumes it’s likely at least a little bit important, but he can only focus on how well your shirt is fitting.

Tight enough over your bust—Luke figures you’re wearing a sports bra for capture the flag today since he sees no bra lines, but the bra creates a nice shape for your tits, so he doesn’t need the lines to entertain him.

“Did you get a new shirt?”

You stop whatever you were saying to look down at your chest. You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest as you fix Luke with a look of disappointment.

“Wha–? It’s an older one. All of my others were dirty.” Your bosom is covered, but Luke is still staring. It’s like he cannot peel his eyes away. Though, he hasn’t tried. At least, not until you scold him.

“Will you stop ogling me while I’m trying to talk to you?”

His reply is earnest. “Wait, shit, yeah. ‘m sorry I don't know what's going on…”

You stare at him, your eyebrows furrowed and your lips parted. Luke can’t help but fix his eyes there next. You’re wearing chapstick, or maybe lip gloss. Something spread over your lips that creates a nice sheen that makes him want to lick it off like icing on a treat.

“It’s okay …” Your words aren’t that convincing but you drop your arms and start speaking again. This time, Luke takes in at least a dozen words.

Really, he should have known what was wrong with him. The same way he should have known that eventually, his insistent nosiness would come back to bite him in the rear.

You’d always warned him of such, telling him that “it’s charming until it’s not”, when you would boot him out of the greenhouse. (Truthfully, Luke had codependency issues but if he never really admitted it to himself, then he wouldn’t have to admit it to you, either.)

You were spending more time in the greenhouse lately. Which has never been a problem for Luke. But your newest project, something completely unknown to Luke as it was apparently a Demeter kid only project, was taking away his time with you. You could barely spare a half hour to go by the lake. You traded chores with one of your siblings for more time in the greenhouse, leaving Luke to work with someone not nearly as entertaining as you.

The only time he got to really see you was early in the morning and late at night. And if he was losing his time to something else—or, gods forbid, someone else—he wanted to know what it was.

So right when you were leaving the greenhouse early that morning, Luke snuck in after you. He searched around, trying to find evidence of you anywhere, and when he did find it, he found his demise there, too.

Sitting next to your favorite pen was a potted plant. It resembled a venus fly trap, but immensely bigger. There were a cluster of them, some with large flowers growing out of the opened mouths. Luke stupidly had the urge to provoke the plant, driven by the desire to see them in action.

He took your favorite pen, and gently stuck it inside of the mouth.

When a puff of yellow smoke hit him square in the face, he hadn’t thought much of it.

When he stumbled out of the greenhouse with a fog in his head and dizziness, he thought it to be a single side effect.

When he started to feel warmer than usual, he thought it to be an effect of the insistent summer heat.

It’s not until he’s waking up on the ground that he really begins to worry.

His eyes open and he is immediately greeted with the sun attempting to blind him. He squints and raises a hand over his face, shielding both the sun and whoever stands over him.

When they speak, he doesn’t need his eyes to tell who he is joined by.

“Jesus, Castellan, if you didn’t scare the shit outta me just now I would be bragging about beating you.”

Luke groans and rolls onto his side. He’s still wearing his battle armor over his clothes and he suddenly feels uncomfortable, like everything has been made wrong or maybe like he has outgrown them. His camp shirt is too tight against his body, pressing the sweat back into his skin and not allowing for any breathing room. His shorts feel awkward in the crotch, as do his briefs. And his shoes are suffocating his feet.

There is nothing he wants more in this moment than to peel the armor and clothes off of his body and run down to the water. But he doesn’t know if the game has ended yet, nor does he know how long he has been out.

There are many unanswered questions he has, but the first one he starts with is, “Why are you here?”

He hears you scoff and knows you have rolled your eyes.

“We were sparring and you just passed out. I wasn’t just going to leave you here.”

He finally looks at you. His eyesight has readjusted to the light from the star above, so it stings just a bit less when he peers one eye open.

You add on, “I didn’t know if you had spontaneously died or something! And now that I know you’re fine…” You bend down and grab your helmet, situating it back on your head and standing at attention over Luke.

He needs to stand. The last thing he remembers is fighting you and he's never lost a fight to you. In his mind, he hasn’t surrendered, and you haven’t defeated him, so he needs to stand.

He tries to, he really does, but his knees get weak and as soon as he’s up, his head spins and he’s right back down.

You swear just before your knees are hitting the earth and you’re kneeling beside him.

Luke can feel you pressing the back of your hand against his forehead, he can hear you asking him a few questions, he can see your wide eyes staring into his heavy ones, but he can’t respond. He can’t do anything but worry about the bile rising in his throat, or focus on the shining water just behind you.

He doesn’t realize that he has begun moving until the bottom of his pants feel heavy with the weight of water.

When he’s in to his thighs, he collapses and lets the ripples wash over his body.

You don’t follow him until after him for a few moments, and when you do, you stand still at the shoreline. You let Luke soak the heat and sweat off of his skin as best as the circumstances allow, and you only speak to him once he’s standing right in front of you in soaked clothes and wet armor.

“What’d you take?”

At first, he’s not playing dumb. It just takes a moment for your words to plant in his mind. Then he plays dumb.

“Take? I don’t know what you mean.”

You don’t entertain his ditziness and instead begin making your case.

“You’re clearly on something, Luke. You’re sweating even though it’s as cool as it usually is. Your pupils are wide and your eyes go from restless to barely open. You keep fidgeting and every few minutes you twitch. And you’re standing here, talking to me, instead of helping the red team secure another win.”

Luke hadn’t noticed most of his symptoms. It’s not like he can notice anything other than the thoughts in his mind, especially when they give him images of your tits bouncing in his face and audible hallucinations of what you would sound like moaning his name.

He decides then and there that capture the flag doesn’t matter. Not when he has what he wants, the true glory, right in front of him.

He heard you, he processed your words, but the sight of your lips distracts him once more and prevents him from instantly responding. He stares instead, watching your mouth through lazy blinks.

He doesn’t even consider responding until you tut.

“If you don’t want to tell me, then that’s fine. I’ll go get Maria L to take care of you then.”

Luke's eyes widen. Maria L is an excellent healer but she also has a pestering crush on Luke, one that encourages her to touch Luke with grazes that border on harassment and lack any professionalism.

“No! Not her.” Luke would feel bad about his reaction to the girls name if he didn’t have such a one track mind.

Your eyebrows raise to tell him to continue. He does so begrudgingly.

He picks at his fingernails and his cuticles until dead skin peels back to reveal blood. But the sting on his thumb doesn’t compare to the dull pain residing in his groin.

He knows that admitting the truth to you would open the possibility of criticism. His current … illness aside, you would never let him live down the day his nosiness actually reaped consequences. He briefly considers accepting defeat, walking away with his tail tucked between his legs, and taking control of the growing boner on his own.

He might be generally inexperienced in these situations, but even he knows that his own fist wouldn’t compare to even the slightest bit of attention from you.

He opens his mouth. “I went in the greenhouse.”

Your eyes widen as if Luke had confessed to committing a cardinal sin, and it’s then that Luke begins to really worry about himself.

“Did you …?” You don’t even have to finish your sentence before he nods. “Luke! You fucking-“

Not really in the mood for your chastising, Luke holds one hand up. He is able to silence you for only a second before you’re slapping his hand away. You’re yelling at him, both for trying to rudely shut you up, and for doing the one thing you told him not to do.

He sits and listens, waiting not-so-patiently for you to tire yourself out. He thought that point would come sooner than it does, but he’s sure that at least two minutes have passed and you’re showing no signs of stopping.

He rolls his eyes, he furrows his eyebrows, and he tries to discreetly adjust the boner in his cargos, but according to you, Luke has never been discreet a day in his life. He has never believed in your so-called ability to see right through him until your eyes pointedly drift to his crotch with his hand still attached to it.

Your insistent rambling ends unfinished. You blink, you don’t say anything. And then:

“Oh.”

At this point, he doesn’t know what to say, so he doesn’t say anything. You fill the silence for him.

“Oh, Luke. I told you not to go in there because …”

His eyebrows lift. “Because what?”

You take a breath. “The plant, the Venus Fly, the pollen is an aphrodisiac.”

Luke knows what an aphrodisiac is, he isn’t dumb, but he still asks for clarification. And when you explain, he asks you to dumb it down. Even then, he blinks at you. Because you were right. His nosiness caused this.

He’s considering pitying himself whenever you suggest the one proposed solution, the only solution the Demeter and Apollo kids have been workshopping together ever since acquiring the plant from another kid's quest.

And when your solution comes, Luke determines that there is no way he could pity himself whenever he is in the position he’s been dreaming of for literal years.

He might not have envisioned this particular scenario, as his fantasies usually entailed the two of you alone in a bed not at Camp Half-Blood. But something about this makes him enjoy it more. Out in nature, in the open with many possibilities of being caught surrounding you both. His lips on yours, his lips surrounding yours, as he kisses you messily.

There is something perverse about the idea of getting to fuck you out in the open, gods willing. He didn’t think it was something he would be into, but it’s all he can think about when he’s rutting against you.

He breathes you in. “I’ve …” he takes a moment, rubbing his stiff cock against your crotch once more. He groans as he speaks. “I’ve been thinking about this for so long.”

You hum, your hands fisting the part of the back of Luke’s shirt that isn’t covered by his armor.

“Luke,” you start and your voice is already full of hesitance. Luke isn’t sure he wants to hear what you have to say, but he knows it would be wrong not to. He busies himself with kissing your neck and under your jaw.

“It’s the pollen talking,” you tell him. “You’re not yourself. You’re basica-“ He bites down onto where he can feel your pulse thrumming under your skin. You gasp, loud and broken, before continuing. “You’re basically drugged.”

Somewhere deep down Luke knows that there’s logic in your statement, there usually is logic in your statements, besides during those times where you would say whatever came to your mind in the late hours of the night. But he doesn’t care, logic be damned.

He knows that he’s felt this way—or at least in the range of this way—for a while now. The pollen has just given him the confidence to act on his desires.

While the pollen has given him confidence, it hasn’t given him experience.

He sloppily kisses along your neck and jaw, not necessarily knowing what he’s doing but he knows he’s expected to suck at one point, so he does. He just wants to please.

You don’t react much to his lips on your skin, so he lifts a hand and slides it under your shirt and armor. The chest piece doesn’t allow for much maneuvering and Luke frowns against your skin before he separates completely to pull the armor off himself.

He knows the clasps on the metal as well as he knows clasps on his favorite pair of pants. Yet his hands fumble. Excitement and the effects of the pollen, he reasons. But his face becomes warm from something other than the two, something he would rather not fully acknowledge. Especially not when he’s about to get his dick wet in the warmth of the one person he’s wanted since he was old enough to actually understand sex.

You ask Luke if he wants your help with your usual teasing tone, but Luke doesn’t take kindly to it. As soon as he has the chest piece off, he has your shirt following it, and then his lips are back on yours.

If even possible, this kiss is heavier. Firmer. Meaner.

He still doesn’t know what he’s doing, but he calls onto the one other time he’d made out with someone. He remembers how he had been instructed to use his tongue and lick into his partner's mouth (a boy from the Ares cabin who stopped coming to camp a year ago). He had been kind to Luke when he didn’t know what he was doing, but now Luke feels like he needs to prove himself. He wants to prove himself. He wants to impress you.

What results is a clash of teeth and tongue. It’s messy, sloppy, and slobbery.

Luke likes it that way.

You pull away first.

Not much has been done, but you look a mess. Your lips are coated in saliva, probably yours and Luke’s, and pride floods his chest. You look flushed, too, and Luke sincerely hopes he’ll be able to amplify the emotion on your face soon thereafter.

“Slow down. Luke.” Your words are soft, gentle, and kind. Just like you. Just like your hands that card through his still-wet hair.

He winces, and not from the way your fingers snag on a cluster of curls. Wrongly assuming the cause of his sound, you apologize and smooth the patch of hair down. Your hands instead slide down Luke’s shoulders and he tries not to frown at the change.

“Sorry,” he admits. He gnaws on his bottom lip, already missing the feeling of yours, and finds himself continuing. “I haven’t really made out with anyone since …”

You nod, lips pulling up in the corners. “Theo?” Luke nods. “I know. We tell each other everything, remember?”

Not everything.

No one else is privy to the dreams Luke has about you. He has never told you, or anyone else, about all of the times he would fist his cock and chant your name in the showers late at night. In fact, when you would ask what took him so long, he would make up a lie about taking advantage of the hot water and solitude. While it was only a white lie, it was a lie nonetheless.

The innocent and naive look on your face as you accepted his lie by omission only made Luke’s cock harder.

You’re staring up at him now with a look different enough, but his reaction is the same. Your eyes hold interest, intrigue, a little bit of mischief, perhaps. You look sure of yourself, like you’ve done this and in this capacity multiple times before. But Luke knows about your experience, nearly the exact same as his save for a few details he wishes to erase.

When you had dished on your sexual history, Luke felt jealousy stirring deep in his stomach. He had been with other people, a guy and a girl, but that was in hopes of getting his mind off of you. Meanwhile, you had been with other people out of personal interest and not self-deluded necessity.

Either way, your experience is almost the same as Luke’s, and knowing so makes it easier for him to take the lead.

He kisses you again but he tries to go slower. Everything in him screams for him to speed up, to take you how he pleased, but he breathes and pushes the thoughts aside.

Taking it slow pays off when you work the armor off of Luke’s torso (without much difficulty at all), and then slide your hands under his orange shirt to rest your palms against his abs. The feeling of your skin against his is striking, even though the touch isn’t much at all. Pathetically, Luke is affected by the meaning more than the physicality.

“What do you feel now?” You ask him after pulling away from his lips.

Luke’s immediate reflex is to say “horny”.

You roll your eyes and absentmindedly scratch your nails against his abs. When he keens, he figures he’s hornier than even he thought.

“I mean other than that. Your skin is warm so I’m assuming you’re still nearing a fever, at least. Are you lightheaded? Nauseous? Anything?”

Luke feels like he’s been slapped in the face. You were asking about his symptoms like a healer. Like an Apollo kid. He couldn’t help but wonder if you were only touching him to gauge his temperature. Were you only doing this—kissing him—to keep his fever warded off? Did you even want this?

Rationally, he knows that you would do anything to help him. You’re his best friend, after all. But he wants you to want this, otherwise it would mean nothing. Otherwise, he wouldn’t even begin to hold a torch to your previous partners. He would be the one you laid with out of moral obligation and not interest.

He hadn’t been feeling nauseous before, but his throat starts to construct as if preparing to trigger his gag reflex.

He hasn’t responded and you’re looking at him inquisitively.

“Nauseous,” he starts. “Hot. Horny. Are you only doing this to keep me from dying?” The question messily tumbles out without him noticing.

You run your tongue over your teeth. “Yes. But there’s also personal benefits involved.”

Usually, Luke could decipher your maze-like answers. But he’s so hot and worked up and lacking an immense amount of patience.

“So you want to fuck me?”

Luke doesn’t continue his work until you respond.

“Yes, Luke. I want to fuck you.”

He has your shirt over your head in less than a minute. The button on your shorts is undone 30 seconds after that. He has completely forgotten about your plea to go slower, but even if he did remember he wouldn’t be able to comply.

He needs to feel you. All of you. Or else he might collapse then and there.

His hands run over your shoulders and torso gratefully, only appearing as the opposite whenever he runs into your bra (a sports bra, as he had assumed). As soon as he has the straps pulled down, he latches his lips onto the newly revealed skin.

Distantly, Luke thinks he would have liked to have been able to lay you back. He wants to see you laid out before him while you’re completely at his mercy. Luckily, he has learned to adapt. He has been dealt unfavorable cards in his life, and turned them into something worthy. He plans to do the same here and now.

As he sinks to his knees, he pulls your shorts down with him. You don’t have to be told to step out of them, but as soon as you do, you’re looking down at Luke with your eyebrows raised.

“Are you sure? I haven’t showered since yesterday and I’m really sweaty.”

Luke doesn’t pay any mind to your words. As you’re speaking, he already has his fingers forced under the elastic fabric of your panties.

“I’m sure.”

He pulls the fabric down.

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to.”

He pulls your leg over his shoulder, bringing your cunt straight to his face.

He has never gotten this far with someone before, he has never even seen examples of what to do in this position. He could back out. He could set your leg back down and only get his dick wet. But you smell so good, and you’re practically glistening in the sun, and you’re staring down at him expectantly so Luke slowly leans forward, sticks his tongue out, and gets to work.

‎

By the time Luke feels even a bit satiated, the sun has started to descend to its destination below the horizon, creating a soft blue hue over the sky.

You’re panting under him, your back and arms painted with dirt, just a bit smudged on your cheek and a few flecks of it strewn throughout your hair. Your stomach rises and falls with your breaths, drawing Luke’s attention to the fresh cum laying there. There’s some dried cum on your back, and just the smallest smudge at the corner of your lips. Luke doesn’t think much before he licks his thumb and wipes away the white crust from your mouth.

He sits back on his haunches and sighs with his head tilted to the sky. His hands rest on his thighs with an exorbitant amount of self control, as he desperately wishes to wrap his fingers around his semi-erect cock and jerk himself to another orgasm.

He thinks that most of the pollen has left his system by now, and at this point the desire he feels is natural. It’s the same desire he has felt for you for a while now, only amplified by the memory of what the real thing was like with you. It’s addicting. Luke truly cannot get enough, even though he has been out here with you for hours. Somewhere along the way, one of the teams won capture the flag. Luke wasn’t sure which one, but the triumphant yells in the distance alerted him of a victory. Somewhere between his third orgasm and your fourth, the conch for lunch blew off into the distance, but Luke had absolutely no concern for satisfying his physical hunger. He was too focused on the sight in front of him.

When he brings his vision back down, you’re sitting with your legs pulled in your chest and your arms wrapped around your calves.

“We should clean up and go have dinner,” you tell him, your voice weak and hoarse.

Fear strikes Luke still. You’re avoiding his eyes, staring down at the dirt, and speaking in a soft voice.

He shuffles closer to you, reaches out to touch you, and then he reconsiders. You take a deep breath, and Luke rests his hand on your elbow.

“Okay. Are you okay? I know that was a lot.”

You look at him and Luke feels a bit better, because while your eyes are a bit distant, you don’t look upset.

“I’ll be okay. ‘m just tired. But what about you, are you fine?”

There is still that nagging in the back of his head, telling him to take you one more time, but his logical part knows that you wouldn’t be able to handle it. He knows that you’ve had enough. Which means he, too, has had enough.

“I’m good.” He leans forward and presses a kiss into your hairline. He stands, pulls his boxers onto his lower half, and offers you his hand. “C’mon.”

You let Luke help you redress and hold his hand as he leads you back to camp the back way. You two come out of the forest right by the showers, where Luke tells you to wait while he does his best to sneakily run back to the cabins. He grabs himself a change of clothes, then sneaks into the Demeter cabin where he does the same for you.

He knows that he has just seen all of your intimate parts for hours on end, but holding your panties in his hand makes his ears redden. Blood threatens to rush down to his crotch but he fills his head with the most undesirable images until he reaches you.

Two showers are started, you and Luke stand back to back, and Luke enters his shower.

When the bathroom is covered in steam and you’ve both used the remnants of the hot water, you and Luke redress and reach the dining pavilion just in time for dinner.

He falls into the routine of a caring counselor easily. He answers insistent questions about his previous whereabouts with a passing “I was sick” that earns just enough sympathy and stops the questions all together. A few times he looks across the way to see you already looking at him. Instead of dropping his eyes or teasing you with the slyest middle finger he could muster, he smiles at you just slyly enough to not raise suspicion.

When offerings have been given, and Luke feels full in multiple ways, he finds you at the bonfire and sits with his leg flushed to yours.

He had just begun to think that all of the pollen was out until you rested your hand on his knee and he felt a jump in his stomach.

Goddamn it.

#lukesworld!#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan smut #celeste writes pjo #loser!luke

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rustedhearts · 5 days

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always (boxer!steve x fem!librarian reader)

summary: set after the events of the incident and send her my love, you meet steve in your hometown to catch up after three months apart. has he done the work like he said he has, or is steve’s nature irreversible?

uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.

✶ the king of the ring (1993) ✶ the library ✶ the record store

tags: fluff, a dash of angst, a lot of comfort!, this literally has been in my drafts since the dawn of time so i’m sorry for the cheesy ending, i just wanted it out!

"what i'd give to run my fingers through your hair, to touch your lips, to hold you near—when you say your prayers, try to understand: i've made mistakes, i'm just a man."

— always, bon jovi

hawkins, indiana. march 1993.

Your luggage sat unzipped and dumped full of clothes, purses folded to fit and closet frantically thrown apart when the phone rang. Your letter wasn't even three days out, barely filling space in the mailbox of your lover before it had been torn open and consumed greedily—and while you were preparing for a trip of your own, Steve insisted he be the one to travel.

So, when you plucked the phone from the cradle on your nightstand, sinking breathlessly onto the edge of the bed for a beat, you were surprised to find his voice on the other line.

"Don't come to California," he rasped into the phone, just as out of air as you. "I'm coming to you."

Mouth parting, you felt your insides tug and lurch at the familiar sound of his syllables. "W-what? Steve?"

"I got your letter, baby. I'm coming to you, don't go anywhere." A beat followed, and while you found your breath and racked your brain for a response, Steve returned to the line. "Please."

Chest blooming with new beats, you let a smile overtake your face and reveled in the way your hands began to shake. "Okay. I'm not going anywhere."

And though he insisted on coming to you, you kept your things neatly packed in your suitcase in the closet. You never made your bed, and you had your favorite pair of slip-on shoes ready near the door. You wouldn't be traveling to Steve right now, but you knew you'd be returning home soon.

✶ ✶

The nicest restaurant Hawkins had to offer was Enzo's, a little Italian place next to a shoe store slowly going out of business. It was the only place in the entire town that required a reservation, and Steve promised to take care of all of it. You wrangled your friends and took a trip to the mall, coming away with a hot chocolate with extra whipped cream and a new, sleek black dress. You hung it on the back of your closet door and waited giddily for Steve's return to town.

It felt like ages since you'd been here together, and it felt strange to remember that this was where both of you have grown up and lived your lives before all the fame. Life in Hawkins had become so separate to Steve over the past few months. You had the library, your friends, your family, and what you didn't tell Steve: an application to the University of Indianapolis for the autumn. It was crumpled and weeks old, and absent of pen markings where needed—but you had it.

But now that Steve was returning, you remembered all those cool days spent on the back of his motorcycle, ripping through town. Visiting the old gym at the edge of town that always smelled like burnt tires, sharing chocolate milkshakes on the way home at the same diner you had your first date at. Afternoons in his old, dingy, first floor apartment with the mold in the bathroom ceiling and the green carpet that reminded you of your grandparents' house. Early mornings in the full-sized bed, comparing hands sizes and finding shapes in streaks of sunlight across the foot of the bed.

Steve told you he loved you for the first time in that bed. Reclined on his side, head resting in his hand, watching you scrub at your teeth with a foamy toothbrush through the open doorway, pulling your hair back to spit it into the sink. Dressed in only his sweatshirt, feet bare and toes frozen in the winter weather and an apartment with a broken radiator. When you spun around to return to bed, he confessed. You aren't sure you ever ended up leaving bed that day.

For some reason, as you breezed into the jazz-filled restaurant in your brand new dress, all dolled up and pretty, you could only remember those beginnings. The nervous hand skitters, the back knuckle kisses, the hours spent between your thighs, the hope for the future. You suddenly realized how young you were back then. Just kids, holding out on life working out in your favor.

Steve was seated when you arrived: a round little table in the center of the restaurant. Brown slacks, crisp white shirt, no tie. A silver ring gleamed on his left forefinger, a plain but handsome signet. You bought it for him last Christmas. And as you inched closer, guided by the hostess, the wavering amber candlelight gave way to something else—something new.

A patch of dark hair shadowed over his upper lip.

It curled into the shape of his smile at the sight of you heading his way. The wooden chair beneath him groaned with the relief of weight when he leapt to his feet, hands smoothing down his folded cuffs. You came to a stop at the end of the table, and as the hostess lingered to ask for your drink orders, you found yourself lost in that handsome, hairy smile.

"Hi," he breathed.

A giggle hiccuped from your mouth. "Hi."

Steve was quick to make his rounds to your side of the table, pulling the chair back. You sank down, head tipped back to watch as he pushed you in. His grin broadened with the weight of your eyes on him, following him the whole way back to his seat. Once seated, he inhaled deeply, taking a moment to gaze at your face.

"May I get you something to drink?"

You blurted something out when the hostess's eyes slid to you. You couldn't quite remember when you thought back on it a moment later—too lost in the sight of Steve's hazel eyes grazing over you. When the hostess disappeared, you both seemed to jump.

"You look—"

"You're so—"

The pair of you stopped, words tumbling into each other. Heat flooded your face and Steve chuckled, spinning the band around his finger with his thumb on the tabletop.

"You go," you insisted.

"I was just going to say...you look so beautiful."

More heat settled in your face, though you'd heard it from him a thousand times before. You shifted in your seat, tugging at the end of your dress.

"Thank you. I was going to tell you how handsome you looked, too."

Redness swelled in Steve’s cheeks, rounded with another smile. You’d never seen him show his excitement so blatantly, and something about it now made your insides flutter. He was so happy to see you, and that made you gooey and soft.

When the drinks were set down and the entrees had been ordered, you pressed your lips into a smile and tipped your head at Steve.

“I’ve never seen you with a mustache.”

His fingers immediately swept over the hair on his lip, eyes ducking toward his Coke. “Oh, yeah. Do you-did you-is it alright?”

Eyes softening, you brushed your foot against his under the table. “More than alright. It’s very handsome, Steve.”

His gratitude waned to bashful, eyes returning to the white tablecloth. You leaned forward and took a sip of your water through the plastic straw, welcoming the cool feeling in your mouth. Heat gathered and festered in your body like the surface of the sun. The new fabric of your dress started to itch around your back. You hadn't been this nervous around Steve since your first date.

"How was the flight here?" you tried, placing your eyes on him again.

You couldn't believe how dashing he looked. The mustache somehow softened him. Or maybe it was that lopsided, sideways grin that gushed boyish charm. Either way, your heart couldn't stop hammering.

"Oh, it-it was fine. Paparazzi bullshi—I mean…paparazzi mess in the airport,” Steve stuttered, wiping a hand over his eyes when his usual profanity slipped through.

He was trying so hard to be good—to be better. You wished he would realize that cutting back on profanity wouldn’t alter what needed to be fixed. But if it helped him get there, you wouldn’t protest. You just sort of liked how those crude words rounded at the edges when they came from his mouth. Like swallowing a pill for some, but gulping water for him. Easy, digestible, almost reflex. He made the grotesque seem wonderful.

But that was part of the problem, wasn’t it? For you, anyhow.

“Oh, I’m sorry. We should be safe from all that here, though.”

Steve nodded, hands wringing in his lap. “Yeah…m’ not worried about it.”

A flicker of a smile flittered over your face. “Okay.”

You turned to the tablecloth then, the chair beneath you feeling weightless. Like at any moment, you could blow away in the wind. It was still hard to feel steady around Steve. He watched from across the table as you traced a run in the linen. He thought you were glowing.

“How’s Nick? And your parents, how are they?” he asked when the quiet pause surpassed comfortability.

“Nick is…at the age where all he wants to do is go off and do things. He’s getting restless, I think. And Mom is good, um, wants to redo the living room. She thinks it’s too outdated now, but…I like holding onto the 80s.”

Steve’s dark mustache curled with another smile. “Yeah, you always liked old stuff. Or ‘vintage’ as you call it.”

"The 80s are not vintage, Steve, they were only 4 years ago," you giggled.

Steve forgot just how wonderful his name sounded in the soft octave and lovely frequencies of your voice. So particular, how your tongue tapped your teeth against the 't,' and how you sort of grinned around the syllables with ease. He swallowed just at the sound of it.

"Oh, sorry, sorry." He was teasing. It'd been so long since he teased.

Another momentary quiet lulled over the table as the shared laughter fizzled out. You glanced around the restaurant a moment. Most other tables were coupled with middle-aged pairs, clinking wine glasses and holding hands against dinner plates, or gazing at their own menus and sitting as far apart as possible, ignoring the other person like a bad habit. A younger couple, late teens at best, sat at the far end near the restrooms. It must've been their first "fancy" dinner. He whispered in her ear and she looked straight at your table, hand covering her mouth.

"Have you spoken to Eddie?" A swift conversation needed to be found, though you weren't sure this was the best course to go down.

Steve, however, just shook his head down at his empty bread plate. You slipped one from the clothed basket to pluck at mindlessly to fill your fidgeting hands. They needed something to do.

"Uh...no. No, I...I haven't." He was too embarrassed to reach out knowing how he behaved. "Have you?"

You nodded. "Um, yeah, sometimes. When Stella calls, I'll say hello."

Steve's smile was small, a little wary. "I'm glad you two are becoming such good friends."

"Oh, well...she's a movie star, I'm just..." You shrugged.

The edges of Steve's mouth embedded downward, brows pinched together. "Just what?"

Heat swelled in your cheeks and under your jaw. You felt sore with visibility. "Just...I don't know—it doesn't matter. M' not much, is all. I'm certainly not a glamorous actress."

Steve leaned forward on his forearms, eyes swampy and sincere under scrunched brows. "Hey. You're everything, angel. Everything."

The sun, the moon, the stars, the cosmos and everything beyond—you were everything to him. He meant that with every fiber of his being.

And you could see that in those eyes, watching you through the glow of candlelight, waiting to recognize an understanding in your own.

You let a smile overtake your face, bashful and pretty. "Thank you, Steve."

In the next wait, you watched him reach to rub at his temples, only to yank his hands away and busy them with something else. You watched for a few painful moments before pulling your purse around the post of your chair and into your lap, snicking the zipper open to reach inside. Your pill case, a tiny metal container with a floral top, still held all the Steve-approved pain pills of the olden days. You pulled out two and set them on the table.

Steve's eyes slid to the tablets quietly. Then your hands, pushing the container rattling with medicated contents back into your purse. Even after all this time.

As his fingers came to retrieve the pills, he caught your eye. You smiled at him. Sweet and loving and kind. He smiled back, a flash of white teeth with sharp canines. It crinkled his eyes with the faintest crow's feet. You longed to reach out and touch them, feel his warm flesh beneath your fingertips.

"Thank you," he whispered into the rim of his water glass.

You pinched the straw of your Coke. "Of course."

Unable to stomach another small silence, you leaned forward with urgency before it could come, looking to Steve with pleading eyes. "Can we drop the formalities and niceties, Steve? I mean...we know each other too well for it. Let's just...pick up from where we left off."

Steve inhaled sharply, a little pained. "Not...right where we left off."

You nodded, extending your hand for him to take over the table. He did so eagerly, fingers sliding into your smaller palm until they pressed against your wrist. "Then, we'll pick up in the middle of it."

Steve rubbed his fingers over your skin, feeling the ridges and valleys of your veins and bones.

"In the middle of it," he affirmed.

His touch tickled, and another giggle burst forth when tingles sparked down your spine.

He eased forward again, mischief in his eye. "Did I tell you how good you smelled? S' my favorite, isn't it?"

You tipped your head, bashful grin coiling at the corner of your mouth. It made Steve's breath catch in his throat, the frayed edge of his nerves feel like they were on fire.

"How'd you know?"

Steve swallowed, tracing a tiny circle on the back of your hand with his index finger.

"I missed that smell," he admitted.

His written words from the past few months rang through your head. "The paper smelled like you this time. You don't know how badly I've missed that smell. I sort of feel like a hound-dog, tracing for more of it in the ink."

It was your nerves that felt afire this time. You flipped your hand to lie flat and engulfed Steve's atop the white linen cloth. The movement bumped the candle in the center of the table, and the flicker wobbled over the edge of Steve's face with a gentle, orange glow.

You wanted to feel his lips. You wanted to feel the strength of his hands on your face again. Petting you, touching you, feeling you. If there was one thing you missed, it was Steve's touch. The sheer size of his presence around you. How his warmth rang through every inch of your being and every corner of the room when you were together.

"I loved your letters," you declared, the thought of his words still poking at your thoughts.

Steve inhaled. "Really?"

"You were quite...poetic."

Steve snickered, scratching at the silver scar on his brow with his free hand.

"God," he hissed, shaking his head with a grimace. His eyes fell to the candle before slowly bouncing their way to your chin. Suddenly, he couldn't meet your eye. "But you...you really liked them?"

You placed your other hand atop the ones intertwined on the table. The look in your eye appeared sincere—genuine fondness.

"Adored."

Steve exhaled, lips parting in preparation to utter some other murmur of adoration—but then the waitress was suddenly standing at your table, holding two steaming dishes. Steve's eyes found her first, narrowing in disappointment at the interruption. He pulled back from the candlelight where he was crowding to get close to you. Your arm inched backward, heading for your lap but stopped by Steve's grip on your fingers.

You met his eye over the waitress's arm, fingers clinging to each other by the first knuckles. He didn't want to let go. So you stayed.

The fog of Steve's presence must've interrupted your train of thought, because you didn't remember ordering the meal that sat in front of you. But you picked up your fork with your free hand and sank into it anyway, buzzing with giddiness and too lovestruck to care.

It felt like everything in your body and your mind had been windswept by the current predicament. All you could think of were Steve's eyes across the table, and his fingers against your own.

You were four bites and two Coke sips in when Steve spoke again.

"Are you coming home?”

Your eyes traced the distance between the condensation dripping down your glass to the roundness of Steve’s eyes in no time. He took his lip between his teeth and gnawed it, hand off his plate to fall into his lap. You sat back, swallowing the bite of food in your mouth that suddenly grew in size. It scraped your stomach going down.

“Um…”

The table rattled with the incessant bounce of Steve’s knee beneath it.

“I want to,” you said. “I just…don’t want to go back as if nothing happened, Steve.”

He let go of his lip, ringed finger scratching at his scar again. “No, yeah. Yeah, makes sense.”

The scrape of utensils and clink of dishes filled another silence. You took another bite of your dinner. Steve gulped down half his water and tapped his finger on the table. He wished he hadn’t left his Marlboros in his jacket pocket at the coat check.

“What if…”

You looked his way again, fork prongs between your lips. He poked at his steak. The finger curled around yours felt clammy and tight.

“What if you came to New York with me? I have a fight next weekend in the Garden. You could…come for a few days…we could have a do-over.”

You swallowed. The last time you were in New York together, things hadn’t gone well. It was the first time he left a mark. The first time you broke things off and left for home.

“Um…”

Steve had never heard you say um this many times in all the years he’d known you.

“I never got to take you to Tiffany’s,” he said, clearing his throat when your eyes cut his way in surprise. His cheeks were a lovely shade of rose again. “A-and that…that cowboy guy you like—“

“Ralph Lauren.” Your lips pressed into a smile.

“Yeah. Yeah, uh…we could go there. Anywhere.”

Just come with me, he wanted to say. Please.

But Steve didn’t have to say it. You could see it in his eyes, hazels all round under a set of cinched brows. Like a kitten waiting for milk. A dog sitting for a bone.

“You don’t have to buy me,” you added, just for one last second of strength.

It all went out the window the moment you laid eyes on him.

“I know. I just…wanna show you that I’m here. I’m here, and…I’ll be better.”

You sighed, hand reaching up to fondle the locket that you forgot wasn’t there. The Christmas present from Steve that you tucked away in your jewelry box months ago. The token of a love you were certain was still there.

“I’ll think about it,” you told him.

And Steve smiled, and went back to his dinner with faith. Faith that you would return to him, like they all knew you would.

Your ticket to New York City was booked the next day. Signed, sealed, and delivered with a kiss from one handsome boxer Steve.

#rolly!#boxer!steve harrington #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #joe keery #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington hurt/comfort #steve harrington angst #steve harrington au #steve harrington x y/n fluff #steve harrington one shot

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eilidh-eternal · 5 months

Note

Your Nasty Man™️ Johnny is fueling my freaky side, and I don't know how to handle it.

I must have more....(pretty please)

What would that smug, disgusting bastard of a man do if he found reader also had a nasty side?

Say she found out about his little video collection? She hacks into it, and to just one up his arrogant ass, posts it to OnlyFans and is now getting paid for it! (Realistically, don't ever do this. I'm just being hypothetically horny here)

OR.....

Car Salesman Johnny. She borrows Ghost's classic vehicular muscle baby, finds an abandoned parking lot, and straps herself into the front seat. Uses the vibrator Johnny bought her to overly pleasure herself, capturing the whole ordeal on her phone. But it's not Johnny's name she's moaning. It's Ghost's. And, of course, she sends it to both just to really stick that knife into that Nasty Man™️'s side.

I'm going down the Nasty Man™️ MacTavish drain here. Must cure it with SingleDad!Johnny before I become a complete fiend for that repulsively sexy, damaged man...

Hehehehe that Nasty Man™️… he’s going to have a heart attack because he’s just overheard you asking Simon if he’d be willing to lend you his car again, but not for another driving lesson.

As it turns out, Simon is pretty good with a camera. Has an eye for photography, at least where his car is concerned (He actually has a sizable following on insta and is pretty well known in the car scene) but what you weren’t expecting is how well he directs you as a model.

Knows exactly how to pose you, has learned the angles you look the best from in a matter of about 5 minutes. And the best part? He’s not creepy about it. He’s actually sort of unfazed by your skimpy clothing and the suggestive poses he’s snapping you in. Lets you wear the leather jacket he wears at meets with his name embroidered across the back of it between shots while you both look over the raw photos. And maybe, just maybe, when you have your back turned to him, adjusting an errant strand of hair or preening in the reflection of the tinted windows, he’s snapped a few shots of you in his jacket with his phone.

And oops! His thumb slipped. Accidentally sent them to Johnny.

And Gaz.

And Price.

When you get to the dealership on Monday there’s a shipment of office supplies that needs to be unboxed and put away. More paper, extra ink cartridges, pens and paper clips in bulk, and, because it’s the start of the new year, calendars for the office.

But wait… these… don’t look like the calendars ordered from the supply store? That looks an awful lot like Simons car on the front…

You chalk it up to coincidence, think maybe your manager wanted something a little less bland and more on theme to help liven the place up. It’s probably just some classic car calendar or something.

You don’t realize what it is until a few hours later when you walk by Johnny’s cubicle and something snags your attention. You backpedal, round his desk to look at the calendar pinned to the fabric-lined divider, and freeze, stomach leaping in your chest because that’s you.

That’s you on the hood of Simons car, laid out in your skimpy dress.

What the fuck?

“I think August is my favorite,” a heavily accented voice breathes from behind you. You whirl on him, back pressed to the divider, and stare up in shock at Johnny, grinning down at you impishly.

“Didnae ken they did custom calendars at the supply store. Think we’ll be doin’ these from now on.” He takes a step forward, cages you between him and the divider when he braces a hand on the metal frame. His breathing is heavy, eyes glazed, and the fabric of his button down pulled taught over the bunching muscles in his arms. “Next year though… I think next year should be ye, in that slutty dress, sittin’ pretty on my ride.”

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dovkss · 9 months

Note

could u do a uni professor aizawa and a student reader where she goes to a cafe that’s not well known sometimes and orders something and sits in the corner and just breaks down once in a while late at night (the cafe is 24/7). And on one of those nights her professor (aizawa) comes in and takes to her and tells her to let it all out on him and pretend she doesn’t know him. ❤️❤️

A+

word count: 2k

summary: he usually hates his students. what makes you so different?

warning: 18+; taboo relationships; teacher x student; masturbation; manipulation; age gap; kidnapping; noncon touching; strict professor aizawa; determined izuku

a/n: my hubbyyyy ! wanted to try a new writing format now that I’m back :) enjoy my luvvies <3 i'll proofread in the morning as alwaysss

Yandere! Professor Aizawa couldn't care any less about his students.

He is solely there to make sure they pass and keep it pushing.

But he doesn't make it easy for them either.

He's known on campus for having ridiculously high standards for his students, therefore he's a tough grader.

So when you showed up, you were no different from his other students.

Anxious whenever you stepped into his class. Worried that you'd maybe fail or do something he wouldn't approve of.

You made sure to not step out of line in any way. You'd never ask questions when you needed to, scared of being degraded. There were times when you even had to use the restroom but held it because you knew that if you stepped out for even a second, you'd miss plenty of information that he wouldn't be willing to repeat just for you.

His obsession (unbeknownst to him) began when he noticed that you often visited the cafe he did.

A small cafe that barely anybody he knew personally went to. It was a cozy, dimly lit cafe that nestled in a quiet corner of the city.

It was nearly always empty, with only a few patrons scattered about, absorbed in their own conversations and treats.

Most importantly; none of his students went there.

He purposely avoided going to places he knew his students went to in order to avoid small talk. He found it to be stress inducing.

It also gave him some peace and quiet. A chance for him to relax on the weekends.

Every Sunday, he would go in, order the same coffee, and sit down in the same corner booth by the same window. Usually fixated on a small notebook filled with incomprehensible scribbles.

His unruly black hair would be up in a ponytail, strands falling messily in front of his eyes.

Every Sunday, you would come in, order the same tea, and sit down in the booth across from him.

From what he saw, you never noticed him. Once your head was in your laptop, it never came out.

Whenever he would walk by your booth, he would see clearly what you were so focused on.

You were studying the material for his class.

He was surprised since majority of this students turn in work only a couple hours before the due date every Monday morning.

He hated rushed work.

But you took time out of your weekend to actually get things done.

He respected it.

Not long after, the sight of you became... delicate to him.

During tests he gave the class, he would sit behind his desk, appearing to be busy with a stack of papers.

His attention wasn't on the papers.

It was on you.

His diligent, hard-working student that sat in the middle of the classroom.

His favorite pastime was pretending to grade assignments when in reality he would steal glances at you. Gawking of your cuteness.

The way you bit your lip in concentration, or the subtle tap of your pen against the desk when deep in thought, he couldn't forget whenever you'd glance up at the clock and a hint of worry would cross your face as you realized time ticked away.—it all fascinated him.

So imagine how much he hated putting in your final grade for that test; A D.

That next Sunday at the cafe, you sat alone at the booth again. This time, you were just resting your head on your hand, forcing yourself to eat a whole bunch of pastries in an attempt to make yourself feel better.

Your hands trembled as you clutched the sheet of paper with the big D in the top corner in red ink.

Tears welled in your eyes, blurring the harsh feedback on the test you'd received not too long ago. The harsh reality of your impending failure in Professor Aizawa's class weighed heavily on your shoulders.

You bit your lip to stifle a sob, your breaths coming in uneven bursts. As the tears streamed down your cheeks, you barely noticed the figure approaching the table you were sitting at. It was none other than Professor Aizawa himself.

It was him. His appearance was difference, you almost didn't recognize him. You couldn't tell if it was from the fact that you sat so far away from him majority of the time, maybe you just weren't used to seeing him up close.

You'd never seen him with his hair out of his face either. The scar under his right eye made him look more intimidating than he already was. But he was still handsome.

"May I sit down?" he asked softly, his voice more comforting than you'd ever heard it in class.

You nodded, unable to trust your own voice. You quickly wiped your tears with the back of your hand and tried to hide the crumpled test paper, but it was too late. He'd already seen why you were in so much distress.

He settled into the chair across from your, his eyes fixed on your face. He was still very intense, but the way he spoke, you could tell that he was being nice.

"I thought you could use some company."

You attempted to smile, but it came out as a quiver of your lips. "Professor Aizawa, I... I don't know what to do. I'm on the verge of failing your class."

He leaned forward, his gaze unwavering. "Failing is a part of learning, darling," he said, his voice carrying some tenderness. "It doesn't define your worth."

You nodded, your tears subsiding slightly as his words offered a glimmer of hope. "I'm just so embarrassed..." you admitted, your voice trembling.

He leaned back, his arms in his lap. He contemplated on reaching out and gently placing a hand on yours. He needed to know if your skin was warm and soft. "Don't be," he said. "I believe in your potential more than you know. You just need to focus on how you're going to rise from the defeat."

You looked into his eyes, your heart fluttering as you saw a depth of emotion you'd never expected to see from the man.

That vulnerable moment seemed to draw the two of you closer.

Whenever you struggled with any assignments, you wouldn't hesitate to approach Professor Aizawa for help.

Surprisingly,, he offered to tutor you outside of class hours. Your first study date being at the cafe of course.

Opposed from his usual style of teaching in the classroom, with you he would patiently explain the work until you were able to grasp it.

Weeks went by and the tutoring sessions became a regular occurrence. Aizawa's hard exterior cracked more little by little with every meeting.

You found yourself not only excelling in his class but also developing a bond with him.

Soon enough boundaries were broken between student and teacher when you found the interactions not stopping at academic matters.

You both shared interests in books, music, art, food. And naps.

One evening, after another successful session of studying, he suggested you both go to a local jazz club to unwind.

You agreed with a smile on your face.

He was thrilled at the thought of spending more time with you.

His little secret.

Sometimes he believed he was way too old to be crushing on some girl. Let alone a student of his.

But those thoughts didn't threaten to bother his mind when he was watching you. Nor when he was in his bed at night, his cock in his hand, pumping up and down to the thought of ruining you.

Fucking his load back into you when it leaks out while making you ride his big cock.

That's why he loved to sleep.

He loved to dream.

One afternoon, as you both strolled through a park, the leaves crunching beneath their feet, Aizawa finally acknowledged the truth he had been avoiding.

He'd fallen in love with you.

He knew what he was admitting to was wrong. He swore to himself that his students would never be anything more than just his students.

Why did you have to come into his life and ruin that?

But he couldn't lie to himself any longer.

You both sat on a bench, engrossed in an adorable conversation about your pet guinea pig back at home.

Unbeknownst to you, a male classmate, who'd been had been harboring a secret crush on you for some time, was watching you.

He was a little bit of a nerd, you couldn't lie. You had no interest in him, so you rejected him as politely as you could. He often watched you from afar, admiring your dedication and kindness.

Today, curiosity had gotten the better of him. He'd seen you and Aizawa from a distance, and unable to control his urge to know more, he approached you two, unaware of the true nature of your relationship with the older man.

"Hey!" Midoriya called out with a friendly smile, causing both you and Aizawa to look up in surprise.

Your cheeks flushed slightly as you greeted him awakrdly, "Hi, Deku. What brings you here?"

His smile widened as he approached. "I was just passing by and saw you."

Aizawa couldn't hide his annoyance. He had been enjoying a moment with you only for another student of his to come and ruin it. He shoud be more worried that he's being seen with you outside of class, but he was more bothered that the green-haired kid couldn't take a hint.

Nevertheless, he maintained his stoic demeanor.

You tried to defuse the tension by coming up with a lie. "Yeah, I was walking in the park and saw Professor Aizawa so I decided that instead of waiting till Monday, I could ask a question for an upcoming assignment..."

Aizawa nodded, his eyes narrowing slightly. You were a terrible liar.

Midoriya took a seat beside you. "Oh, you could've asked me too, y'know! Do you still have my number?"

You hesitated for a moment, unsure of how much you should reveal. "Um, no, Deku-"

Aizawa's irritation grew, and he decided to steer the conversation "Midoriya," he started, "Shouldn't you be studying for that retake? You wouldn't want to have an F in my class, would you?"

Midoriya's eyes widened and he shook his head, bowing a few times. "Of course not, Sir! I'll be sure to not disappoint you!"

He excused himself, leaving you and Aizawa alone once more, but not after handing you a piece of paper with his number on it.

Aizawa knew he needed to act sooner than later.

Beneath his calm exterior, a dark obsession was slowly taking hold of his heart.

Aizawa’s initial admiration turned into something much more sinister when he found himself becoming possessive of you, unable to bear the thought of you being with anyone else.

He began to watch your every move, studying your interactions with other students and teachers.

With time, his actions became more extreme. He started to manipulate situations to ensure that he was always the one by your side.

Asking you to stay after class, keeping you out for longer than you’d hoped.

Out of seemingly nowhere, his obsession reached its peak.

The thought of you being away from him any longer, he finally made the decision to keep you.

He snuck into your dorm, his heart pounding as he’d never don’t anything like this before. But he trusted himself.

He didn’t pay to watch those kidnapping tutorial videos for nothing.

He picked the locked carefully and silently entered your room.

You were sleeping peacefully. He touched your hand and you were so warm.

Just like he expected.

His hands went up to caress your cheek, then you stirred. Your eyes fluttering open, only to be met with the sight of your professor looming over you.

Fear gripped your heart as you realized the danger you were in. You tried to scream, but he swiftly covered your mouth, his grip firm and unyielding.

He whispered in your ear, his voice dripping with affection.

“I really wish I could love you the normal way. But you’re gonna have to get used to… whatever this is.

“Now behave and I’ll let you keep that A+.”

You wished that was the least of your worries.

#yandere aizawa #yandere shota aizawa #yandere aizawa shouta #yandere eraserhead #yandere shouta aizawa #yandere bnha #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere my hero academia #yandere mha #bnha headcannons #yandere headcanons #yandere

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galexystern · 1 year

Text

i don't wanna wait my whole life through (to say i'm in love with you) - 18+

pairing; steve harrington/eddie munson/fem!reader aka steddie/fem!reader

rating; E

warnings; fluff, smut (MDNI), pining, fix-it, spitroasting, oral (f & m receiving), fingering (f receiving), face-fucking, p in v sex, established relationship - eddie/reader

word count; 8.8k

desc; You and Eddie start to notice all the things Steve does for you two. Or, alternately, Sometimes things that feel too good to be true are true anyways.

read on ao3 / masterlist

It all started a few months after you, Eddie, Steve, Robin, and Vickie moved in together.

Steve's parents were part of the wave that swept out of Hawkins after everything with Vecna. They'd tried to convince him to go with them, not wanting to leave him in this obviously cursed town, but he'd declined their offer. They almost didn't let him, but he was an adult now and they couldn't force him to do much of anything. Teary eyed, they'd joined the long line of cars inching down the road, itching to get out.

As a gift, they'd left Steve the house. The giant house, with so many empty bedrooms he couldn't hope to fill by himself. So he'd opened it up to the people he cared about most.

By chance, he ended up inviting you and Eddie to live with him first (he made you promise to never tell Robin that fact). It took some convincing, but he managed to puppy-dog-eye his way intothe two of you agreeing to move in. He graciously gave you the master bedroom, something about how it would be awkward to move rooms within his own house and weird to take over the room where his parents had slept. When he'd said that, it'd creeped you out as well, but Eddie persuaded you that you would be able to make it your own, and eventually you wouldn't even think other people had lived in the same space.

Sure enough, over the days and weeks, the whole house transformed. Stuff started filling all the cabinets, drawers, and surfaces until they threatened to overflow. Anywhere you looked, there was something that clued you in on who lived there—Robin's language dictionaries and stacks of pen pal letters from several different countries, Vickie's gardening supplies and magazines, Eddie's sheet music (blank and filled out, he wasn't very good at keeping it organized) and various guitar accessories, your piles and piles of books in every genre available (you liked to hoard them). Sometimes you caught Steve just sorting through it all with a smile on his face; he liked to scold you all for how messy it was, but you could tell he was so unbelievably happy that there was plain old stuff sitting alongside his, almost burying it even. He started to buy more of his own things just to keep up.

And your and Eddie's bedroom changed just as much. You plastered the wall with posters of bands and movies you both loved, dumped your combined clothes in the dresser and closet, placed all the kitschy stuff you owned on every surface available. All the books in the main area were just spillover; they couldn't even come close to how many were strewn across the floor in your room. You bought everything you found and liked in thrift stores (okay, so maybe you were a hoarder in general). Eddie couldn't resist buying any new cat toy for your beloved Sweet Potato (he could say he hated your cat all he wanted but you knew the truth) so they were always under foot. Vickie liked to give you cuttings from her plants, and so those were placed anywhere sunlight reached. You loved candles a little too much, so there were not one but two drawers full of them. There were shells you and Eddie had collected when you'd gone to the beach, VHS tapes of your favorite shows and films, supplies from any hobbies you'd picked up but eventually gave up (it drove Eddie crazy but he couldn't resist buying you things for whatever new hyperfixation you had, he always wanted to get rid of the old things but you wouldn't let him).

And yet, the room was just a little too big for the two of you. The bathroom was enormous—you and Eddie didn't much care for your looks (besides Eddie's hair) and so it felt empty whenever you went in there. You and Eddie couldn't reach the highest shelves and so they remained clear—you two frequently talked about buying a ladder, or asking Steve to put stuff up there since he was the only one who could reach them, but it hadn't happened yet. And the bed...it felt huge, an expanse of sheets and blankets and pillows. You and Eddie could lose each other in it. When you were in bed, even with Sweet Potato, it was like a whole other person could fit beside you, and even be comfortable.

A voice came from the doorway as you pondered that, just finishing up making the bed. "Wow, this room is unrecognizable."

You looked up to see Steve, arms crossed, leaning against the frame. You smiled at him as you fluffed up Eddie's pillow to how he liked it, then flopped on the bed. Following Steve's roving gaze, you looked around the room at all your stuff mixed with Eddie's. It gave you a thrill, every time, remembering that you two actually lived together, on your own, in a house filled with loved ones. Seemed too good to be true.

Turning back to Steve, you teased, "Is that a compliment?"

His eyes snapped back to yours and he narrowed them playfully. "No, I actually hate what you've done with the place."

You clutched your chest in fake hurt, comically dropping your jaw too wide. "You wound me."

Steve laughed, the sound music to your ears, and you couldn't help but grin back at him, breaking the act. "It looks great," he said, genuine this time. "There's no mystery about who lives here."

"You trying to be dick?" You asked with a raised eyebrow.

A faint blush rose to his cheeks. "No. I like it. It's nice knowing you and Eddie are here. Living here. With me."

"Well," you replied, looking away, your own face flushing, "we like it."

You could feel his eyes on you. "Good," he said quietly. Taking a chance, you looked back up and caught his stare. It felt intense. And then he cleared his throat, breaking the moment. "Maybe I should've kept this room." His teasing tone was back. "If you're not careful, I might take it back."

"Oh yeah? I might just dare you to." You smirked.

"Mm, well, I'm not going down without a fight."

"Neither are we."

You and Steve grinned at each other goofily and your heart pounded and his hand clutched at his bicep and then Robin's voice thundered through the house.

"STEVE!"

Said man huffed out a laugh. "Guess that's for me."

You nodded and watched as he gave you one last smile before disappearing from view. You heard his footsteps down the hall, then the stairs, and then you couldn't hear them anymore.

After that encounter, you started noticing.

Like the day Steve came home from grocery shopping, dumping the bags on the kitchen counter while chanting "gotta pee" before quite literally running to the downstairs bathroom. You'd been at the table, engrossed in a book. Your focus broken, you got up and perused the bags, looking for something to snack on. You wanted to be quick—Steve didn't like it when anyone ate too close to a meal, he said it ruined your appetite and Vickie's delicious cooking would go to waste, something you never understood because Eddie inhaled anything in the fridge when he got the munchies and so leftovers were always eaten—but then you found no less than six different bottles of allergy medication. You picked a couple out and examined them.

You heard Steve walk back into the room and looked up at him. "Who're these for?" You asked curiously.

He glanced at the bottle in your hand. "Oh, they're mine."

"What? Why?"

"I'm allergic to cats."

You looked down. Sweet Potato was weaving between his legs, leaving orange hairs all over the bottom of Steve's jeans. He was notorious for how much hair he shed all over the house. You tried to vacuum regularly, but it was impossible to get it all.

Your eyebrows raised so high they probably hit your hairline. "Steve!" You exclaimed. "Why didn't you tell us?"

Steve shrugged and leaned over to pick up Tato and hold him to his chest. "Because you and Eddie love this pea-brain," he answered. The cat head-butted him affectionately, purring loudly, and Steve scratched under his chin. "I wouldn't have made you get rid of him. Besides, he's grown on me." Tato started making biscuits on his shoulder.

That's when Eddie walked into the room. He saw Steve holding Tato and immediately went over to them. "Hello, you little monster," Eddie said lovingly, petting him. Sweet Potato just soaked up all of their attention. Your heart melted at the sight.

Steve looked up at you. "Can you and Eddie put away the groceries? Since I shopped and paid, it's the least you can do."

You rolled your eyes. "You're the one who can afford it." Steve smirked. "But yes, we'll unpack." Steve nodded and left the room with Tato.

"Why do you rope me into these things?" Eddie whined. You smiled at him and he reflexively smiled back, walking over to give you a kiss.

"Help me now," you replied, "and I'll give you a back rub later. If you're good." Eddie's eyes lit up and he immediately went over to the counter and started taking things out of bags. You shook your head fondly—when you gave him back rubs, things tended to get heated, if you know what I mean—but still stared at the space Steve had been, thinking over what he'd said. Until Eddie called your name and you turned away, joining him in the task.

Or that time when you and Eddie were at work and a sudden thunderstorm broke out in the late afternoon. It shocked the hell out of you both when lightning flashed through the music shop, a crack of thunder following immediately after.

"Oh, man, we didn't bring any umbrellas or coats or anything," you whined to your boyfriend.

He kept sorting through the new records that had come in, setting aside any that looked interesting. He liked to play those on the store's player near closing time, when there weren't any customers and it was just you and him, sitting on the counter and soaking up the sound. If Eddie was feeling particularly romantic, and the record was full of ballads, he liked to dance with you in the aisles, making you feel like the only person in the world.

"You can wear my jacket," he offered.

"But then you wouldn't have anything to wear," you retorted, to which he shrugged. You rolled your eyes, knowing you wouldn't take up that offer. It was super easy for Eddie to get sick, you'd learned, and going into a thunderstorm without a coat would give him a cold almost immediately. Then he'd bring it home and spread it around the house, making everyone miserable. You weren't going to let that happen.

You watched the rain fall through the window when a familiar car pulled into a parking spot out front. You peered outside as the car door opened and someone stepped out and ran to the door. They opened it and in walked...

"Steve!" You called out in surprise and Eddie looked up.

Steve gave a wave, one of his arms full of stuff, stamping his feet on the shop's welcome mat before walking towards you both.

"What are you doing here, man?" Eddie asked, bewildered, records forgotten.

Steve huffed and dumped what he was holding onto the counter in front of you. You looked down and found that it was your and Eddie's rain gear, complete with your coats, boots, and umbrellas.

"Thought you might need these," Steve said. You and Eddie stared at him in awe.

"You brought these here for us?" You asked.

"In a thunderstorm?" Eddie continued.

Steve shrugged, the tips of his ears going pink. "I know you didn't take them this morning, what with the sun shining and everything, and I know how easily this one—" he pointed to Eddie, "—gets sick, and I wasn't doing anything so..." He cleared his throat. "I thought I'd bring them to you. Be a good friend and all."

You just looked at him.

"Well," Steve broke the silence. "I guess I'll go now." He turned away and started back towards the door.

"Wait," Eddie called, and Steve stopped and turned back around. "Do you wanna stay and eat lunch with us? We haven't taken it yet."

"Oh, I didn't bring any food," Steve said, sounding disappointed.

"That's okay," you replied. "I always pack extra since this one—" now you pointed to Eddie, "—likes to steal my food. Maybe he can control himself and you can have it." You raised your eyebrows at your boyfriend, who nodded excitedly. "Yeah! Stay!"

Steve just looked at you.

"Unless you have somewhere you need to be?" You asked. "Do you need to bring Robin and Vickie their stuff too?" You knew they were at work as well and sure to have not grabbed their stuff either.

"Oh," Steve answered, looking sheepish, "I didn't bring theirs. I forgot it."

You and Eddie laughed. "We won't tell them," you promised.

At that, Steve smiled and walked back to the counter. "In that case, sure. I'd love to stay."

While Eddie grabbed your lunches from the back, you stowed your rain gear under the counter and hopped up to sit. Steve leaned next to you, and you could feel the warmth of his arm against your leg. Eddie returned and you three sorted through the food, picking and choosing what each of you wanted to eat. Once that was done, you dug in, talking about what Steve had watched that morning and what records Eddie had chosen to play and what you were reading at the moment. It felt nice, with the rain pounding away outside, matching how your heart felt.

Or the time when you and Eddie had gone to a concert and gotten a flat on the drive home and had to stop at some random gas station. It was practically the middle of the night and there was no one around. Even the gas station store was closed. It was cold and you both shivered as Eddie dug through his pockets for change.

"Here," he said, teeth chattering. He had two quarters, two chances to get a ride home. You took one and called the house, but it just rang a couple of times before the machine picked up.

You hung up the phone with a huff. "No one's home. Steve, Robin, and Vickie are probably still at that party they were going to."

"What are we going to do?" Eddie asked. His tone sounded calm but his word choice revealed his worry. "Who else can we call?"

"Maybe Joyce? I don't—wait!" You ran to the van, opening the door and digging through the glove compartment. "I know it's in here," you muttered as you threw everything in there on the floor. Eddie's messiness and your hoarding were really catching up to you.

Finally, your hand closed around a piece of yellow paper. You pulled it out and quickly examined it. Smiling, you jumped out of the car and ran back to Eddie.

"What's that?" He asked, his hands deep in his pockets.

"Sometimes, Steve's maternal instinct comes in handy," you answered, showing him the list of names and numbers of all of Steve's closest friends. Eddie laughed. "I can't believe we actually have use for that thing."

"Me either," you breathed and grabbed the last quarter. You were so happy you remembered Steve was at Emily's house, otherwise you and Eddie would've been screwed. You dropped in the quarter and dialed the number. You hoped Steve would answer, but you would've been fine with anyone after the third ring.

Eventually, someone picked up. "Hello?" You could barely hear them over the party noise.

"Emily!" You yelled. "It's Y/N!"

"Oh! Hi Y/N!" She shouted back. "What's up?"

"Is Steve there?"

"Yeah! One minute!"

You waited for three seconds.

"Y/N?" Steve's voice came through the phone and you relaxed almost completely. Everything would be okay. Eddie noticed and sighed in relief, leaning against the wall. "What's wrong?"

"We got a flat tire!" You answered. "Can you call us a tow truck or something?"

"No way," he said, and you tensed in confusion. "I'm coming to get you!" You relaxed again but didn't understand. "What?"

"Just hold tight! Where are you?"

You told him you were just off Highway 73 at a gas station. He said he would be right there and hung up.

You and Eddie ran back and got in the van, turning it on so you could have some heat. "At least the battery didn't die," Eddie joked. "Otherwise we would've frozen." You rolled your eyes but didn't say anything, just leaned against his shoulder. You two dozed until someone knocked on the driver's side window.

You both jumped and saw Steve outside. He waved and Eddie rolled down the window. "Come on," he said. "Get in." He pointed over his shoulder at his car.

"What about the van?" You asked.

"We'll get a tow truck in the morning. Let's just get you home and out of the cold," he replied. He waited as you two got out of the van, grabbed anything valuable, and locked it, leading you to his BMW.

Eddie dove into the back and laid across the seats. "It's so warm in here," he slurred, half-asleep already. You and Steve smiled as you buckled into the front. Steve looked both ways before pulling out onto the road. You lay in the passenger seat, head turned to watch Steve as he drove. It was warm and everything smelled like him, a comforting, familiar sensation. Your eyes drooped, following Eddie's lead. Steve kept his hand on the stick shift and you laid yours on top. He looked at you briefly.

"Thank you," you whispered. He smiled softly. His hand flipped upside down and squeezed your fingers, making your heart flutter. Your eyes closed fully.

"Go to sleep," Steve whispered back, and you could've sworn he said "my love" at the end, but you were already gone.

;

"Babe," you started, as you slid under the covers and into bed beside Eddie, trying not to disturb the sleeping Sweet Potato. "Have you noticed anything...odd about Steve recently?"

Your boyfriend turned on his side to face you, a curious expression on his face. "What do you mean?"

You explained about the allergy meds and rain gear and flat tire.

"What do you think it means?" Eddie asked.

You sighed. "I don't know. But it's confusing me."

Eddie hummed, and you watched as he thought. "You know," he said eventually, evenly, "maybe he has a crush on you."

Your breath caught, but shook your head anyway. "It can't just be me. All the things I told you about were for both of us."

Eddie narrowed his eyes at you. "We don't know that he's bisexual."

"Yeah," you conceded. "But he knows we are." Eddie's eyes widened at that and you giggled.

"Now that I think about it," he mused, "he lets you drive his car. He doesn't let anyone else do that."

"Well, he lets your band practice in the garage whenever you want."

A moment of silence.

"He does let me pick whatever we watch when we're together," you continued.

"He lets me play any new record I get, even if he knows he won't like it," Eddie said.

"He always gets my favorite flower when he goes shopping..."

"...and our favorite magazines..."

"...and our favorite candy."

You and Eddie looked at each other and spoke at the same time.

"Holy shit."

;

It felt like a dream. It actually was a dream, kind of the dream for you and Eddie both. You'd determined that a few months ago, before you'd moved in with Steve, back when you were living with Eddie in his trailer.

It was just pillow talk, uncommonly intimate pillow talk. It was raining outside and the trailer felt warm and cozy and you and Eddie were in sex's afterglow, tangled up in each other. It started innocently enough, but then you started discussing exes and old lovers. You'd been a goody two shoes in high school, never getting into trouble, never doing much of anything. Unfortunately, that meant you didn't get much action, and Eddie was your first (and probably last) serious boyfriend. He wasn't your first though, and so you told him about how you'd lost your virginity to some nice, bland kid at summer camp—the same summer you had your first kiss with a girl. Eddie had whistled and said something about how for someone who didn't do anything, you sure did at lot in those three months. You'd hit him but blushed as well.

Eddie had talked about Tanya, the girl he'd dated throughout freshman and sophomore year, before she'd moved away. He'd been devastated, thought she'd been the one and everything, but long distance didn't work and he'd eventually lost touch with her. It'd hurt for a long time, and still hurt if he was being honest, but he said you were better than she ever was. You rolled your eyes but you couldn't stop a smile from playing on your lips.

Then he'd asked, "Do you have a crush on anyone?" You looked away quickly and he noticed. "You do," he said. You could hear the smirk on his face. "Who is it?"

"No one," you insisted, not wanting to say and hurt his feelings.

It was like he could read your mind, he always could. "You can tell me, I won't mind."

You looked up at him. "Are you sure?"

"Cross my heart and hope to die," he answered, complete with the motion of an x across the left side of his chest. You smiled softly at the gesture. "Go ahead, princess."

"Well..." You started softly. "I've always had a crush on Steve."

Eddie's eyes just about bugged out of his head. "Steve? Our Steve? The Hair?"

"Don't say it like that!" You shoved him lightly. "You've seen how he's changed after graduating. Everyone had a crush on him before, who wouldn't have a crush on him now?"

"Me," Eddie scoffed, but you could see him bite the inside of his cheek—the tell-tale sign he was lying.

You gasped. "You liar!"

"No!" He exclaimed, trying to save face.

"Yes!" You were excited now. "You have a crush on him too! Oh my god!"

He shoved his face into his pillow and groaned. "No I don't!" You heard him say, his voice muffled.

You leaned in close to his ear. "You can't hide from me," you said lowly, teasing him. "I know all of your secrets. And now I know this one too, the juiciest one by far."

"It's not that big a deal" came from the pillow.

You leaned back. "It's not." Eddie lifted his head and looked at you with an eyebrow raised. "You're just as hopeless as I am."

He sighed loudly and flopped onto his back, staring at the ceiling. "He's just so pretty," he whined, lovesickness finally coming out.

"He is." You mirrored his position, grabbing his hand and holding it tight. "Sexy, too."

"Yeah...and funny and caring and beautiful and thoughtful and smart..."

"You sound like you're down bad more than me." You giggled.

"Well then, babe, you should catch up."

"Oh, I will."

"Good," Eddie said, sounding tired. He leaned over to give you a hug and kiss before rolling away.

You pouted. "Why don't you ever hold me at night?"

"Angel, I love you, but you're like a million degrees when you sleep. You make me feel like I'm going to melt into a puddle."

"I bet Steve would cuddle me."

Eddie chucked into the dark. "I bet he would."

You huffed.

;

You laid on the couch, head on Eddie's lap and feet on Steve's. Credits rolled across the TV screen, throwing the room into near darkness. Red flared above you as Eddie took a hit, passing the remnants of a joint to you. You took a drag and inhaled. Steve's hand lightly caressed your leg as he brought it to yours, plucking the joint from your fingers. You exhaled shakily and Eddie rubbed the back of your neck as his hands brushed through your hair. He knew.

It'd been a few weeks since your and Eddie's conversation regarding Steve's behavior, and since then, you couldn't stop seeing all the things Steve did for you both. Reading the books you raved about, listening as Eddie's band practiced and giving praise, buying little things he thought you two would like. You and Eddie tried to return the favor: you took pictures of the three of you together with the camera you'd picked up during your photography phase, visited him at work whenever the two of you were off to cheer him up, brought him home cassettes of his favorite musicians as soon as they came in. For his birthday, Eddie wrote him a cute little jingle and you gave him a collage of all the pictures you'd taken together; he loved and cherished them both. But nothing felt like enough—not enough to show him how much you two cared for him. Nothing short of telling him felt like enough, but you were scared. It felt too good to be true.

"Steve," Eddie said, breaking you out of your reverie. The man at your feet hummed. "Why didn't you leave with your parents? Why did you stay in Hawkins?"

A minute of silence passed.

Eventually, Steve answered, voice scratchy from not using it in a few hours, "It's complicated. Part of me wanted to go. I love my parents, but I never got to see them. They always worked too much. It felt lonely, when I was a kid. I thought maybe this was my chance to really spend time with them." He sighed. "But that wasn't real. They were going to continue working hard even after moving. I would've been alone again—actually alone, without all of you."

You made a sympathetic sound and he squeezed your feet in gratitude.

"And..." He continued. "And it just felt wrong to leave everyone. I don't think it would've felt right to live anywhere but Hawkins. Cursed as it is." He chuckled softly. "You know what I mean?"

"Mhm." Eddie answered for the both of you.

"This is where I belong. With you."

You knew he was talking about everyone, the kids and adults and other teenagers, but it really felt, in that moment, like he was talking about the three of you. You, Eddie, and Steve, saying you belonged together. You felt the same, deep down in your bones.

"Steve," you said suddenly, propping yourself up on your elbows. "I—"

He turned his head to you, leaning against the back of the couch, the moonlight shining through the windows to highlight his face, with its sharp jaw and high cheekbones and strong nose. His eyes sparkled and his hair glowed and a soft smile spread across his mouth and your words died in your throat. He was too beautiful, too kind, too loving for you. You didn't deserve him.

If it seems too good to be true, it probably is.

"Um," you managed. Eddie rubbed your neck again, giving you strength. "We would've missed you. If you'd left."

"I would've missed you too," he whispered, still smiling at you, giving you butterflies.

You laid back down and looked at Eddie desperately. He nodded and said, "Well, I better get this one upstairs," patting your hip. At that, you pulled your legs from Steve's lap, missing his warmth already. "Scoot up," Eddie murmured to you and you did as he asked. Once you were in a better position, he placed his arms under your knees and back, lifting you as he stood up from the couch.

"Damn, Munson," Steve said, sounding impressed.

Eddie turned you both around and he winked at Steve, making you giggle. Steve also laughed, staying seated as Eddie carried you upstairs to your room. He laid you on the bed gently. "Are you okay?" He asked softly.

You nodded but didn't say anything.

"You know I love you, right?"

You smiled. "How much?"

"Oh," Eddie drew out as he sat on the bed next to you. You climbed into his lap and straddled him. "More than the number of stars in the sky. More than the amount of water in the oceans. More than the number of trees there ever have been or will be."

Love for him pooled in your stomach. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," he answered simply. You kissed him, deeply, passionately. You wanted to forget you couldn't have Steve. You wanted to remember that you would always have Eddie.

Like always, he read your mind and pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around your waist and letting his hands rest on your ass. He ran his tongue along your lower lip and you opened for him. He gently moved your hips, making you grind against him, and you moaned at the hardness beneath you. His mouth left yours and ran hot kisses down your jaw and neck, stopping at your pulse point to suck deeply. You groaned again at the sensation, pressing harder against his crotch.

"Eddie," you panted. "Need you."

His teeth nipped at your skin when you said his name and you whimpered, his tongue soothing the hurt. His hands moved to the hem of your shirt and you leaned back so he could pull it up over your head. He moved towards you again, and his lips explored the newly exposed skin like it was the first time. He always made you feel so precious, like you were a wonder he couldn't believe he got to touch. You placed your hands on his face and pulled it up to yours, kissing him deeply again. He grunted, smashing your chests together in an effort to get closer to you. You gasped lightly as his shirt rubbed against your breasts, creating friction and making your nipples stand at attention.

He leaned back and pulled his own shirt off, throwing it somewhere behind you. Your fingers caressed the open skin, feeling the line between his abs, the happy trail leading into his jeans. Going lower, past the waistband, to the bulge that was growing as you kissed. You rubbed the heel of your hand against it and he broke away to groan into your neck, the sound going straight to your cunt.

Eddie suddenly flipped you so you were lying underneath him, head against the pillows. He trailed his lips down your neck to your chest, taking one of your nipples into his mouth and sucking. You gasped, hands going to his hair and pulling him closer. He swirled his tongue around, a hand coming up to tweak the other one and make your back arch. "Good girl," he muttered against your skin and you whimpered at the praise. "Don't worry, baby. I'm going to make you feel good."

He continued down your torso, sucking bruising marks here and there, making sure they would stick around for a while. Finally, he reached your waist, and he pulled down your pants and underwear in one go. You sucked in a breath as the cold night air hit you, goosebumps popping up. But it was quickly replaced with Eddie's warmth, as he ran wet kisses down your thighs and licked a long stripe up your slit.

"Fuck," you moaned, thrusting your hips up. Encouragement enough for Eddie to dive back in and devour you.

That's when the door creaked.

You looked up and said breathlessly, "Steve."

He stood in the doorway, your jacket in his hand. His mouth was open but he didn't move, watching where Eddie's head was buried between your thighs. At your voice, he ripped his gaze away to meet yours, and your breath caught at his dark eyes and hungry expression.

Eddie lifted his head. "Did you just call me 'Steve'?" But when he realized where you were looking, he sat up, turned, and saw Steve as well. He must've recognized the same look on his face as you did, because neither of you moved. In fact, Eddie brought up his fingers to drag through the slick wet of your pussy, making you gasp. Steve swallowed at the sound.

"Hi there, pretty boy," Eddie said, and Steve looked at him. "What a nice surprise."

"I—" His voice was strangled. "I just wanted to give this back."

"How chivalrous of you," Eddie replied, somehow sounding calm and wrecked at the same time. The hand not lazily sliding between your legs grabbed your ankle, and that was your only warning before he pressed his middle finger into you. You arched back at the sensation, still staring at Steve, who looked down at Eddie's finger pushing in and out of you slowly. "You know Steve, this angel right here has never been wetter than she is right now."

"Oh?" Steve said faintly. The squelch of Eddie's finger moving sounded louder than ever.

"Yeah," Eddie drew out. "I think maybe it has something to do with you?" On "you", he added another finger and you moaned loudly at the stretch. His rings felt cold against your hot skin, and it just heightened the tension in the air between you, Eddie, and Steve. "What do you think?"

"Fuck," Steve breathed out.

"How about you, princess?" Eddie turned his attention to you and you could see the wicked glint in his eye. "Who do you think is making you so wet?"

He hit inside you particularly hard and you cried, "Steve."

Eddie looked back at Steve triumphantly. "See, pretty boy? All you. Now, rather than me just telling you, would you like to come over and feel it?"

Steve nodded dazedly, stumbling forward and closing the door behind him. He walked to the bed unsteadily as you and Eddie watched him. Once he got close enough, Eddie removed his fingers from you. You whimpered at the emptiness, clenching around nothing, but Eddie leaned forward and pressed his fingers into your open mouth. "Suck, beautiful," he murmured and you followed orders. Eddie and Steve both groaned at the sight and your eyes fluttered shut in pleasure.

You felt someone shift and opened them to find Eddie now sitting beside you and Steve perched between your open thighs. You locked eyes with him as he shakily reached out a finger and gently swept it through your slick. His eyes widened at the sensation and he said, "Wow."

"Go ahead, pretty boy," Eddie said, his hand coming up and massaging your breast. "Give it a taste."

Steve kept your gaze as he slowly leaned forward and very lightly touched the tip of his tongue against your clit. You both moaned at the feeling, Steve's eyes rolling back up into his head as he pressed closer and pushed his mouth into your pussy. You let out sounds like you were falling apart, feeling like you were, as Steve's tongue explored your folds, never stopping, like he didn't want to stop. Like he wanted to map you down to the millimeter.

"You make such pretty sounds, sweetheart," Eddie said, and you wrenched your gaze from Steve to him. "Doesn't she, Stevie?"

You felt Steve nod against you, pushing impossibly closer. He was settling now, moving his tongue down so it could press inside you, and your body shivered. He did that a few times before running it back up, nosing your clit teasingly. "Tastes so good," he groaned, and you and Eddie both responded with your own whines. "Like honey."

"She's our sweet girl," Eddie managed to say, though his voice was barely there.

"Eddie," you whimpered out. He knew what saying "our" would do to you.

But then Steve pushed two fingers inside you while lazily sucking at your clit, and you cried his name out with pleasure. Your hips moved of their own accord, thrusting down to meet Steve's hand, like it was a dance you two knew how to do without ever trying before. Eddie's free hand moved and rubbed his hard cock through his jeans, slowly but forcefully. You didn't want him to feel left out, so you lifted a hand to tangle in his hair and turn his head towards you. "Kiss me," you pleaded in a whisper.

Eddie wasted no time, falling into you and your mouth, tongues immediately clashing. Your noses and teeth and jaws bumped together, feeling violent, as you chased your climax on Steve's mouth and fingers. "Do you wanna cum?" Eddie asked into your mouth and you nodded against him frantically.

He leaned away and you whined pitifully. "What do you think, Steve?" Eddie sounded absolutely breathless. "Should we let our good girl here cum?"

As an answer, Steve revved up his motions and worked overtime, making you wail wantonly into the dark. It only took another minute of Steve's ministrations and Eddie's kisses and then you were over the cliff, free-falling into your climax. Your body jerked as Steve slowed but didn't stop, extending your pleasure, making sure it lasted as long as possible. At some point, you moaned in overstimulation and Steve finally stopped, letting you collapse on the bed and try to get your breathing back. He sat up and put one of his wet fingers in his mouth, and you watched as he sucked it clean, closing his eyes at the delicious taste. If you could've moaned, you would've.

Then Steve opened his eyes and trained them on Eddie, who swallowed slowly. "Here," Steve said simply, and held out his other wet finger to your boyfriend.

They didn't break eye contact as Eddie crawled down the bed to Steve, wrapping his lips around the offering. He sucked eagerly, groaning at the taste, and Steve's eyes darkened in response. And you watched it all happen with half-lidded eyes, already feeling desire pool again within you.

Steve gently pulled his finger away, and Eddie followed it, not wanting to let it go. But then Steve leaned down and pressed his lips against Eddie's. It must've felt good, because then they tried to swallow each other whole, hands coming up to grip waists, shoulders, hair, before they found their spots: Steve's on the back of Eddie's neck and Eddie's on Steve's lower back. They pulled at each other endlessly.

You whimpered at the beautiful sight, and that broke them apart, giving all their attention to you. You shivered under their combined stares, knowing they weren't close to being done.

You were proven correct when you saw the wicked glint that had been in Eddie's eye now shining in Steve's. "Don't worry, my love," your breath hitched at the pet name, "we haven't forgotten about you. Right, baby?" By the end of the question, Steve was looking back at Eddie, who was hanging on by a thread after hearing "baby" fall out of Steve's lips and directed at him. He nodded with a whimper. Steve smirked, knowing he had the upper hand now, and moved his hand to Eddie's hair. He tugged lightly, but Eddie's head fell back like he'd been pushed. "Good."

At that point, you'd gotten some of your strength back, so you sat up and grabbed the hem of Steve's shirt. "Stevie," you whined. He looked down at you with an eyebrow raised and adoration in his gaze. "My turn."

"Your turn for what, beautiful?"

You seemed to shiver anytime Steve addressed you by a pet name, and this time was no different. "To kiss you."

Steve nodded and leaned down, still holding onto Eddie's hair and moving the free hand to cup your cheek. When he was a hair's breadth away, he whispered so the words would fall across your lips, "I've been wanting to do this for so long."

You melted and combusted at the same time. "Me too," you replied, and surged up to meet him. He moaned against your lips as they pressed against his. They were soft and sweet and a perfect fit. You never wanted to stop. All you wanted to do for the rest of your life was kiss Steve and Eddie, one after the other, again and again, that was it. You slid your hands under his shirt and lightly brushed across the skin and muscle. In response, he flicked his tongue across your bottom lip and you opened your mouth to him. His tongue pushed in and started to map your mouth like it had your pussy. You could taste the sweetness he'd loved so much and you dove it to chase it further.

Eventually, Steve broke away. You were all panting, eye contact electric between you. Steve took a breath and asked, "How is everyone?" Ever the most caring boy in the world.

"Good," you replied breathlessly.

"I'm great," Eddie answered eagerly and you shot him a look.

Steve laughed quietly. "It's not a competition."

"But I'm winning, clearly."

Before you could shoot a sarcastic comment in his direction, Steve pulled Eddie's hair so his head went back and his neck was exposed. "Oh?" The dark look was back in his eye. "Is that so? What do you think, angel?"

You hummed, watching as Eddie's stare bounced between you and Steve, desperation growing in his expression, hand going to palm his crotch. "I don't know if he's winning per-say...but I think he's been a good boy for us. Haven't you, my love?" Eddie nodded as much as he could with Steve holding his head back. "Yes, such a good boy, letting Stevie eat me out and letting me cum. Don't you think he deserves a reward?"

You gave Steve your best puppy dog eyes and he sighed shakily at the sight. "Now that you mention it," he replied, voice a tiny bit strangled, "he has been a good boy. I think it's time we give him some relief." You nodded at him. "And since I already got to experience your pretty pussy tonight, I think it's only fair Eddie does too. How does that sound?" He grabbed your chin and pushed your head back to mirror Eddie's. "Would you like our good boy here to fuck you? Make you cum again?" Eddie whimpered at the use of "our" just like you had, and you nodded at Steve desperately.

"Yes, please," you breathed out and Steve smiled sweetly. He kissed you and Eddie before letting go and moving so Eddie could take his spot. He was about to leave the bed when you grabbed his hand. He looked at you and you tugged him towards the top of the bed, motioning for him to sit behind you. "I'm a good girl, remember?" You asked, teasing gently. You turned so you were on all fours, ass high up in the air towards Eddie, who squeezed it hard. That made you arch your back and you gave Steve a coy but knowing look. "Let me be your good girl."

Both Eddie and Steve rushed to get rid of their pants and underwear while you waited patiently, looking over your shoulder at them. Within seconds they were back on the bed, at either end of you. The three of you together—it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

Eddie pressed two fingers into you and you keened at the feeling. He leaned down and kissed up your spine to soothe as you got used to the stretch once more. Steve slid in and sat in front of you, cock red and hard and already leaking. You dropped your head and used the tip of your tongue to lap up the white bead of pre-cum. You heard Steve's head hit the headboard along with a loud groan, and so you did it again—this time adding a swirl of your tongue around the head of his cock.

"Fuck," he swore, the sound seemingly echoing throughout the large room, making you wetter. Eddie took the opportunity and added a third finger to the two that were fucking you nice and slow and deep. You moaned around Steve's cock, halfway into your mouth, and the vibration made him jerk his hips up and push it in all the way. You gagged at the sudden pressure in your throat, but he was quick to bring his hips back down. "Sorry, angel," he whispered.

You swallowed the spit that'd gathered in your mouth. "S'fine." Looking up at Steve with doe eyes, you continued, "I can do it."

He smiled softly and kissed your forehead. "I know you can. You're going to take both of our cocks so well, baby. Right?"

You whined and nodded, bringing your head down again and taking Steve all the way into your mouth. "Oh my god," he groaned out.

"No gods here," Eddie smirked, fingers speeding up and curling to hit just the right place inside of you to make you cry out around Steve's cock. "Just a good girl who's about to create the most beautiful spit-roast imaginable." He removed his fingers and before you could whine about the loss, you felt the head of his cock press against your cunt. He dragged it through your slit, hitting your clit now and then, enough to make you whimper but nothing else.

Then he slowly pushed his cock inside you, letting you adjust as he moved inch by inch. "So tight," he praised. "Always so tight for my cock. Such a good girl."

You shuddered at the praise and being filled up. Steve spread his hands in your hair to help move your head so you could keep sucking him off. When Eddie bottomed out and you could feel the press of his hips against your ass, he stopped and just reveled in the feeling.

"You're so beautiful," Steve said as if in awe. "You're both so beautiful." You knew he and Eddie must be staring at each other as they both fucked you and you moaned at the thought. You pushed back a little on Eddie, giving him permission to move. He gradually pulled out and then pushed back in hard and fast. You choked around Steve's cock but didn't stop sucking his cock.

"Look at you, taking us both so well," Eddie cooed in a strained voice. His hips quickened, making Steve speed up your head movement. You were just between them, letting them use you for their own pleasure, and you'd never felt more perfect in your life.

Steve panted hard. "M'gonna cum," he managed, and you wrapped your lips tighter around him and sucked harder. "Oh, fuck, baby." You took him all the way, deep into your throat, and swallowed around him. He jerked and you quickly retreated so you wouldn't gag. His cum shot into your mouth and you did your best to swallow it all, some of it leaking down your chin. Steve slowed and eventually stopped your motion, extending his orgasm as much as he could, and then lifted your head so it was level with his. "That was amazing."

You smiled and used a finger to wipe the cum from your cheek and into your mouth, sucking on the digit while staring at him. He already looked wrecked and that was just the icing on the cake.

And then a hand, adorned with big silver rings, wrapped itself around your throat and pulled you back.

Your back came flush with Eddie's chest and you cried out from the change in position. His cock was hitting deeper now, and rubbing that specific little spot over and over again.

"Hi, princess." Eddie's voice was right next to your ear. "Having fun?"

You nodded.

"Ah ah ah, I wanna hear you say it. Let Steve and I hear everything," Eddie directed and then bit down on your pulse point.

"Oh, fuck! Yes, yes, yes," you cried. "Feels so good."

Eddie's wicked chuckle tickled your neck. "It does? Well, I think pretty boy here can help you feel even better."

Next thing you knew, Steve was kneeling right in front of you, hands pressing into your waist. He looked exhausted but there was still a hungry look in his eyes. Then he moved his hands up and grabbed at your tits, rolling the nipples in his fingers harshly. You dropped your head onto Eddie's shoulder, keening, feeling like you could explode.

"Look at us, angel," Steve said gently, and you turned your head so you could see them. They leaned into each other and kissed wildly. Both sets of their hands tightened on you and you whimpered. Your orgasm was on the horizon; it was a tsunami and headed towards you fast. Steve took one hand and dragged it through Eddie's hair, pulling him even closer. You felt his lips on your neck, here and there, and you knew he was marking up both you and Eddie, marking you as his. You leaned your head to the opposite side so he would have more space to create his art.

His other hand slowly slid down and then two fingers started rubbing fast circles on your clit. "Oh, god!" You shouted.

Steve leaned away, and Eddie retightened his grip and focused on drilling his cock into you, harder and faster and deeper. "That's it, baby," he said. "Cum for us."

You lifted your head and locked eyes with Steve. He nodded, a half-smirk on his face, and that was it. The tsunami hit and wiped everything out.

"Holy shit!" Eddie groaned as you clenched hard around him. You let out whines as he kept fucking you and Steve kept rubbing your clit, prolonging your pleasure to the maximum limit. Three, four, five hits later and Eddie was cumming too, his hips stuttering but still thrusting as he rode out the high.

At some point, he slowed to a stop and pulled out. You collapsed forward and Steve caught you, moving you so you could lay on the bed. He set you down gently and pressed kisses to your face. Eddie flopped down next to you and did the same as Steve. You giggled tiredly.

You were in heaven.

Then Steve was getting up and walking into the en-suite bathroom. You heard water running and then stop and Steve reappeared, carrying a warm wet towel. He gently cleaned you and Eddie up, then himself, then tossed it into the dirty laundry hamper. He was about to lay back down when there came a meow from outside the door. Steve walked over and opened it, and Sweet Potato emerged from the hallway. He rubbed against Steve's leg before jumping onto the bed, curling up in his regular spot, and falling asleep.

All three of you laughed quietly. Steve closed the door and returned to the bed. He climbed in and laid between you and Sweet Potato, with Eddie on the other side of you. You pulled up the comforter and got cozy.

"I don't know if this actually needs to be asked now," Eddie said, sounding worn out, "but I'm gonna do it anyway. Steve, would you like to date me and Y/N? The both of us, together?"

You looked at Steve and smiled. "'Cause we wanna date you," you finished.

It was pretty dark in the room, but you thought you saw a tear or two shining in his eyes. "I would love to date you, both of you, together."

Eddie sighed. "Thank god."

"I thought there weren't any gods here?" Steve teased.

"Oh, shut up."

You and Steve laughed. You looked up at the ceiling, feeling like you were on cloud 9. "This feels too good to be true."

"Well, it's true," Steve said.

"Finally," Eddie sighed. You felt both of their eyes on you. It gave you indescribable joy to know they were looking at you, and each other, the same way you and Eddie would. Like they were the most important person in the world. Like you couldn't live without them. Like they were the key to your happiness, and you to theirs.

You gave each of them a kiss and then turned on your side towards Eddie. Steve shifted behind you, and you felt his body pressed up against you from behind. His arm snaked around your waist and held on tight. "Is this okay?" He asked.

"Ha!" You yelled, startling both boys and the cat. They all stared at you and you looked back at Eddie triumphantly. "I told you Steve would cuddle me!"

Eddie laughed. He gave you a kiss and said, "You sure did, babe."

You all settled down again, and you covered Steve's arm with your own to keep him against you. "What was that?" He asked, sounding more confused than ever.

You giggled. "I'll tell you in the morning. Promise."

#steve harrington x eddie munson x reader #steddie x reader #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #mine

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zillasvilla · 1 month

Text

BEYOND THE LIGHTS

Chapter VII: Rocket a/n: Re-edited.

Warnings: Minors DNI. 18+ only. Smut, dirty language. All things smut

Summary: Soraya’s next appearance, and new found status surprises everyone, while dealing with the drama from Dame.

Pairings: Jey Uso x Black Original Character

Disclaimer: All pictures, music and lyrics used are credited to the original creators. All original characters and plot lines are my one. Do not copy, or repost my work.

The gifted necklace sits pretty around her neck, the only piece of jewelry she wore other than some silver rings on her fingers. Soraya pulled off the little cape she used to cover her clothes while doing her make-up. The drama that broke months ago frustrated her to no end, she wanted to retaliate. Yet, her sister’s legal advice to go through a lawyer to release the documents was better. One less thing on her plate.

Special Delivery had become the number one album in the world. Her best-selling album since CTRL . Soraya’s production and pen skills, changes the way the industry sees her as an artist. She was enjoying the heighten success of her career, but still dealt with the heat of Dame’s dick-riders. But the light in all of her turmoil was her man.

Joshua. Big Papa as she started calling him. Since, the mention of her name in several court cases and unwanted media attention. They agreed to come out when she was ready. This strengthen their relationship, letting her be spoiled his attention on her. Their privacy allowed their solo careers to grow.

Soraya was booking meetings with major companies, photo shoots, concerts. People were calling her name. Jey was living on the high of being the world heavy-weight champion. His push, putting his name in every topic. The pop he gets after winning the all gold title from Damien Priest at Backlash was a moment she would never forget.

“They’re done setting up.” Athena, her mother interrupts her thought process, peeking into her childhood home. Their relationship had improved. Her mother learning to let her daughter grow up and do for herself. The multiple trophies show-casing her daughter’s talent. It was hard not to go into mama bear mode when her cub is attacked.

The blue and purple painted walls littered with posters of her favorite artist, brought her a sense of calamity. A place she can always come to when she wanted to feel like a kid again.

She nods, fluffing out her curly hair before deciding to finally get up, tossing her phone on the once slept in bed.

Athena joins her daughter’s side as they descend down the stairs. “Ready?”

Soraya nods watching the technical and production members come in and out of her parent’s home. The black and white lettering of the company name on the chest of the director. Tiny Desk. They had invited her to do an appearance. She agreed under the condition she does it from the comfort of her parents home. The atmosphere brings in a homey feel, giving her all creative control over her performance.

“We’re ready when you are.” Mark, the director tells her. She waves to her friends, pleased they were able to make it despite their hectic schedule. She had hoped he could make it, however, appearances in New York, kept him away.

She nods her head at the director, acknowledging his statement. Soraya takes a sip of the water handed to her by sister Shiloh. She smiles up at the older woman who stood over her in the beige six inch heels. Shiloh was there through it all, offering her shoulder to cry on.

Her sister had been a big help. She became the bridge between her and their brothers, keeping them at bay from killing Dame. Soraya was sure they would do with a quickness if she gave the go ahead. Shiloh’s focus was ensuring her name stayed cleared and it was something Soraya will forever be grateful for.

“I talked with Fredrick. Your attorney.” Shiloh adds, wanting her to know the details, before it all comes to light tonight.

”What did he say?” She trails her gaze to the sitting area, where her family and friends conversed amongst each other.

“He looked over everything you had on the drive, even contacted the private investigator you had during all of that.” She rambles. It was a lot for her to remember, so she let Shiloh deal with it, coordinated with her partner Fredrick, who was the best in the states. His price showed that.

“He’s going to speak with several news channels, and take it to a Judge. You could file a civil suit against him if you wanted too, if not the courts will likely press charges based on the evidence you provided.”

“If we could avoid court again, that would be great.” She drops her water bottle in the trash, looking at her sister. “I want him to suffer.” Shiloh nods in agreement. Her little sister had been through enough as it is. She would make sure, she never had to step into a court room again. She watches Soraya stand behind the mic, turning to the production team.

“You guys ready?”

Receiving thumbs up, she begins her introduction. The slow electric sounds being played from the guitars behind her, mixing with the brass instruments.

The smooth sultriness of her voice gained her crowd’s attention. She sways slowly, hand grabbing onto the mic for support. Immediately anyone would know that it was her first hit single off the hatred album she wrote before her disappearing act. Rain on me.

This concert was her way of releasing so much trauma. Her way of telling the people she loved about the turmoil she went through with Dame. Her body relaxing as she felt the negative energy dissipate from her mind and body, her singing flowing into one her all time favorites. You. The background vocalists singing Keyshia Cole’s part. She would be hitting her up for another song. A hard transition from her singing to rapping being translated through the music.

“You picked the wrong one, now you pick the right one, got no love left and I ain’t even tryna fight dumb.”

The words fly smoothly out her mouth, her own twist on the cadence, making eye contact with the camera. Everyone and the mama could immediately tell who she was directing it to.

You know what you did and honestly I been type done How you getting hoes take 'em home then you wife them It's really no comparison 'cause I ain't nothing like them Bestie said fuck him, I'm like don't get me hype 'cause At one point would had been gun point on site bum Now I look at it like owww, that something light hun I'm happy that it's over yeah you only had a slight run I can be a foul bitch fuck your whole life up I might spend the night with your bro out of spite 'cause you a fuck nigga

Her brothers watch from the back, a proud grin on their faces, as their baby sister devours him without mentioning his name. They had watched the growth from her being too shy to rap, to now placing her self up there with the greats. A part of their personalities rubbing off on her. Zyaire’s lyrical guidance, Duke’s raspy growl and Dennis vulgar language rubbing off on her. He nods along, face turned up, bopping to her unique style, emoting what she was feeling with her facial expressions and hand movements

So lost into the song, she hadn’t realized Jey was coming in, nodding with a smile. The loose-fitting shirt, that was probably his, showing off the traditional necklace. She never took it off, even gifting him a leather bracelet to match. He gets lost in his woman’s presence, loving how free she was in her element.

She steps back to vibe with music, making eye contact with him. A wide smile on his face as he stood in the back with arms crossed. The black shirt clinging to his muscles as he flexed. His brown eyes staring her down with a knowing chuckle. Mark signals to her that she had time for one last song. Deciding to switch it up when the music winds down.

“This is a song that I wrote in the heat of personal moment.�� She smiles, standing in front of her soundboard. it’s called "The way and well let’s get to it.”

The only thing being used as background music was the sound board, producing her own beat, and having the recording of her vocals on a continuous loop. Soraya was always shy when it came to expressing her feelings to Jey. So she would write songs for him, leaving them around his place, in his bag. In his car, Not realizing his love language was words of affirmation in anyway. Her singing to him had to be one of his favorite methods.

You so damn important Everything you do shows me you know it Behind it all you are the motive Don’t tell you enough, but baby I'll show it, show it He say the king where he come from Take a young queen just to know one So, baby, I’ma drive it like it’s stolen I’ma fix it like it’s broken

We could catch a flight out to London Go to the mall, spend a lump sum They could try to catch up to us But they’re too busy making assumptions

She starts, swaying side to-side, snapping her fingers to the beat with her eyes closed. His own breath hitching in his throat. The way she made him feel like it just them two in the room, knowing the song was about him..

Boy, you know all I do Is stay up all night losing sleep over you All I do Is drive myself crazy thinkin' 'bout my It’s the way you walk, the way you talk, babe

It’s the way you love, the way you fuck, the way It’s the way you are, you're a star, babe It’s the way you, it’s the way you

Her hazel-brown lock onto his deep brown ones. She’s singing slowly to him. The intense staring contest they had aroused him. The noticeable tent in pants, she smirks, relishing in the fact, she caused that with just her voice. Her brothers follow her gaze to him. A surprised look on their faces. Zyaire, feeling like a dumb ass for the way he talked to her months ago about Dame. He goes to talk to him, stopping in his tracks when his baby sister rapped another verse. He could wait till she was done.

This thing we got is crazy Only thing I know is you’re my baby Forever down, I am your lady Always for sure, never a maybe Never met someone who spoke my language Never met a nigga done with playin’ You the type of nigga make me lane switch Hand me the brush and say “paint it” Give me your heart and I hold it Show me your soul and I'll mold it

Baby boy, you gotta be the dopest Gotta be to fuck with the coldest

She closes out the concert slowly fading out the music, turning her attention back to the cameras. Soraya thanks everyone for coming, allowing production to pack up their things.

She takes a sip of water handed to her by Shiloh, watching everyone come her way while he hangs back in the kitchen with his twin. He’s sitting on one of the many barstools, arms resting behind him on the large island. She wanted to be wrapped up in them, but that would have to wait.

“I swear you get better every time.” Bianca tells her, giving her friend a hug. She would make a note to set up a girl’s day at the spa to catch up.

“Whatever you decide. We got your back.” Bianca refers to the yellow mailing packets she had her mom put on their seats. Which included a detailed affidavit on the abuse he put her through.

”Yeah girl. He ain’t gonna get away with this.” Trinity hits her fist into her palm, showing she was ready for a fight. Before meeting with a lawyer, and and after the release of Special Delivery: her family, friends and industry connections had constantly left messages on her phone, extending their hand of support while doting on her new album.

It wasn’t long before Dame and his bitch were trying to release their own album or diss towards her. It was a flop. That still didn’t mean she wasn't going to ruin his life. He tried to ruin hers and it was only fair she ended his. No mercy she thought, looking towards Jey, her vision is blocked.

She pouts, when an older buff man pulled her in a hug, kissing her face. “Daddy.”

“I’m proud of you baby girl.” He pulls back, grabbing her hands in his, thumbs rubbing over the back soothingly. A soft grin on her face at her father’s praise. “Yeah. You're not a wrestler, but this is close enough.” He jokes.

Her father was a wrestler. A big one for his era at the time. Known as D-von Dudley. One half of the Dudley Brothers. He had long retired, but was now working alongside his former boss, and her god-father Paul, or Hunter as she liked to call him. His kids being a part of the business was his father’s only dream and he got it. With her brothers.

He had hoped his daughters would join too, but instead he enjoyed having a daughter that was a lawyer and one as a musical prodigy.

“We do need to have a serious conversation.” She dreaded the day he would ask her to talk, especially now knowing in full detail the abuse she went through. He just wanted to make sure his baby girl was okay.

”Okay dad.” She groans, finally locking eyes with Jey. Production had left, leaving their family and friends to snack on the food her mom prepared. However, Soraya wanted nothing more than to be up under him. “Don’t think I won’t pop up on you at the studio.”

She hoped to god he didn’t. Athena pats his shoulders with a soft laugh. “Honey, she’s not going anywhere again.”

Soraya wasn’t planning to either. She was done running from that man and she’ll be damn if he believes he still has a hold on her.

“Hey dad. Come here a sec.” One of her brothers shouted, mentally thanking him as she slipped away. She quickly rushed through her band of friends straight to him.

Shiloh watches her baby sister fall in love for the first time. The way she gets shy in his presence. She was happy her sister decided to tell everyone this way. It gave her control over her the life that he tried to take from her.

“Hi.” Soraya breathes out, stopping a few inches from him. He had a way of making her shy and he loved the reaction he got from her every time he was around.

He reaches out his hand. Her freshly manicured fingers come in view. The sky blue french tips, with the letter J on the pinky nails made him groan. His hand envelops her own, pulling her into his arms with a soft giggle.

“Hey pretty mama.” He whispers in her ear, placing a soft kiss to the side of her head. His raspy voice raises goosebumps on her skin. She steps closer, his legs instantly opening to let her in.

Soraya sighs softly, wrapping her arms around his neck. She feels the light squeeze from his arms and the resting of his chin on top of her head. “Thought you couldn’t come, papa.” She tilts her head up at him. Even when he was sitting, he still towered over her.

He technically couldn’t but his affairs in New York, ended early and he was able to catch the red-eye flight to make it on time.

”I’m a champ baby.” He pecks her lips. “I do what I want.” He kisses her again, moving his hands back to grab her sides. The loud whistles, and shouts break them apart. Soraya hides her face into his chest.

“About time. Damn.” Jimmy shouts, making Jey laugh. His hand rubbing her back.

”You ate today?” He looks down at her, ignoring everyone that where asking them a million questions. She had gone quiet and he felt the low rumble in her belly.

“No.” she whispers, moving her arms around his torso, wanting to be in his skin. She hadn’t realized how much of a safe space he was.

“Go get your stuff. We’ll go eat.”

She pulls back, walking through the chatter boxes once again, fake laughing and joking with them, mostly saying her goodbyes, jogging up the stairs to her childhood bed room. Her man was here and she was ready to go. He stands up quickly, seeing her brothers make their way up to him.

”Main-event Jey USOOO.” The twins, Duke and Dennis mock his ring entrance, laughing causing everyone to watch. The twins were super protective over their baby sister. That and they couldn’t stand Joshua for some reasons. They felt like he wasn’t good enough for her. Jimmy clocks the animosity in their tone. He joined his brother’s side, ready for a fight.

“I should’ve known it was you. I mean she is attracted to bi-“ Duke stops when a hand pushes him back. Zyaire shakes his head at his shocked expression. This wasn’t’t the time more the place. He wasn’t one for the fighting in his parent’s home. Especially over his sister’s relationships.

Zyaire learned the hard way dealing Shiloh’s fiancee. Joseph. In honesty, he had no problems with Joshua. He took care of her at her lowest and brought back the fire in her eyes. This was a different Soraya than before and he wasn’t going to let anyone ruin that. Not even their dumb ass twin brothers.

”Chill.” He turns back to Jey. “Be good to her man. She deserves it.”

He nods in understanding, seeing his her come down the stairs. “I got her Uce.”

“Everything okay here?” Soraya questions, finally joining Jey’s side with her purse and phone. Her hand instantly went down to his, fingers linking together slowly. She looks up at her older brother.

He shakes his head with a knowing smile. “All good Raya, maybe we’ll see you at the shows now.”

Soraya rolls her eyes at the comment, she avoided those shows for several reasons. “Bye” She waves to them quickly, dragging Jey out the house with her.

Soraya was over it at this point, wanting to be alone with her man. He tugs her arm slowing her down. “Slow down baby.”

She lets him pull her closer in his arms. “I’m not going anywhere.

After becoming champion at Backlash, he was able to take a long break before the road to SummerSlam.

“m’sorry. Just missed you.”

He grins, pulling her into his chest. He tilts her chin up with his fingers, thumb rubbing the space between her lips and chin. Soraya’s needy eyes stare at him, making him groan. Soft wet lips press against her mouth “Miss you, too pretty mama.” A soft moan leaving her lips.

”Let’s go get you fed.”

It became a common occurrence to be at his place all the time. He was closer to more eating places, the bigger couch and bed. As soon as he opened the door for her, she made herself comfortable, taking off her shoes, slipping her feet into the fuzzy uggs next to his own slippers.

”Might as well move in.” He jokes locking up for the night. She was over so much, her belongings, mixed in with his. Some days he found her clothes mixed in with his travel bag. He keeps them in there, letting her natural scent mix in with his. He had a piece of her every time he went on the road.

Soraya joked to herself a lot that she would move in if he asked. He just has yet to ask her and didn’t want to impose. What if he got tired of her and kicked her out. She grabs his hoodie off the couch, turning to him. “Don’t tempt me with a good offer.”

She slips into the hoodie, putting her head and arms through the designated holes while watching him toss the keys on the entry table. He was studying her, mentally drawing the image in his brain at how she looked in his clothes; especially his merch. The necklace he gifted her was peeking through the hood asking him smile. she never took it off. Unless she was in the shower.

Her phone suddenly connects to his home audio system, letting him know she was here recently. He relished in the fact she proffered his place over hers.

Her smooth, sultry voice sings sweetly through the speakers. She was singing to him again, only this time a little more seductive. The strides he made towards her filled with passion and determination.

She moans at his hands grabbing her face, pressing a hot kiss to her mouth. His own working against hers, licking her plush bottom lip. He sucks the soft flesh between his own.

Soraya trembles, gripping the front of his shirt. She tries to press herself closer. The needy kiss trails upward along her warm cheeks, moving her arms around his neck, her eyes flutter close, tiny moans from his teeth sinking into her neck, tongue soothing the sting.

”Jey.” She mumbles.

”Mhm?” He rubs his hands down her sides gently, pushing under the hoodie. Teasing her skin with light grazes from his fingers. A soft hum leaves her mouth. The lyrics speak for themselves, getting shy all over again from his passionate gaze.

If you like it you can touch it, baby. She leans up, kissing him slowly, setting the pace she wanted.

He smooths his hands over her thighs, going behind her, his large hands gripping the cuff between her thigh and ass. Ooh, grab a hold, don’t let go. He slips his tongue in her mouth at the sudden gasp she lets out.

Her legs wrap around him, his erection straining in his briefs, pressing firmly between her supple cheeks. He can’t help but give it a light slip, groaning at the sounds of her tiny whimpers. He rubs gently using this time to carry her up the stairs into his room.

The soft glow of the sun setting illuminated the room. Her back hits the soft sheets, crawling up on her elbows towards the middle of the bed, He removes his shirt, tossing it somewhere in the room.

Faintly the song fades deeper, igniting a different light of passion behind his eyes. He grabs her ankle, pulling her down with a giggle.

Jey stands between her legs, massaging her thighs as he leans down, pressing soft quick quicks on her neck. “You want it princess?”

A sweet sigh fills his ears, her hand resting on the side of his neck, feeling the cool metal of his Cuban link beneath her fingers. “yes.”

Their lips meet again, she’s falling into mush at his dominance, letting him bruise her lips, his breath hot against her skin with each kiss on her neck and shoulders. His hand rubs into her thighs, trailing up to hook his fingers in her bottoms, tugging them down and off.

His hands felt hot against her skin; rubbing in places other than where she wants to be touched. He slowly pushes the top over her head, her ample breasts sitting pretty for him.

He palms one softly, watching her shy away from his face. Jey uses his thumb and pinky finger to pinch and roll the nipple. “Look at me.”

The huskiness in tone mad her rub her legs together. Her slick pools into a small puddle beneath her. She wills herself to make eye-contact.

His right hand, slipping between her legs, teasing her arousal. “Good girl.” He gives her a sloppy kiss, spreading her folds with his index and ring finger; using his middle finger to slide up and down her center.

Her soft moans covered by his mouth. She manages a soft pant. The hand still palming her breast rubs up her neck, enough pressure to make her lie flat against the mattress.

”Open for me, baby.” He coaxes, pushing the finger into her slick hole. Her legs spread open, exposing her body more to him.

He stills watches her closely, learning each expression he made with the curve of his fingers, adding another one, mouth slightly parted. He knows he found her spot. She pushes down on his hand. A delicate squeal leaves her lip. He knows Soraya can get louder.

Jey has made her squeal several times before; he stops wanting to make her come just from his mouth.

He lowers to his knees at the side of bed. Jey pulls his fingers out slowly, hearing the soft whine of loss from above.

His wet lips, leave a trail along her thighs; avoiding her dripping sex. Jey nipped and sucked on the meaty flesh, teasing her in the best way possible. His hands, pushing her thighs back, felt her lower half roll with his tongue on her clit.

Jey flicks her clit in slow circles, urging her to cry out in desperation. The warm like flesh, trails down. She clenches around nothing with a needy whine. “Jey..” She knew that’s not what he wanted to her.

“Relax.” He mumbles, giving her thigh a soft squeeze of reassurance.

He lets a dribble of saliva leave his pursued lips on to her dripping cunt. “I got you mamas.”

He presses his mouth to her folds, leaving soft kisses. He looks up at he, allowing her thighs to close around his head. Jey hums lowly, coaxing a loud moan out of her.

He licks and sucks continuously, not letting up on her trembling body. Her hands tangle in his hair, pulling on the soft curls.

His groan vibrates against her, grinding down on his mouth. The bubbling feeling in her belly rising. He takes notes of her tightened grip, and squeezing thighs, ears softly popping from the pressure.

Joshua plants his hands on the underside of her thighs, pushing them back on the bed; flattening his tongue against her, shaking his head side to side.

The burning sensation in her thighs only adding her to intense pleasure Josh was putting her through. He closes his mouth around her dripping heat; sucking harshly to elicit whiny moans from her.

The fervent licks lapping at her dripping juices.

“Baby.” She squirms, tugging at his head with each hungry lick he gives her. His cool breath blowing with on the nub, a strangled cry filling the room as her body shakes, a wave of relief crashing over her.

His mouth kissed a pathway up her quivering body; fingers grazing over each mark he left on her rich skin; her fingers tracing along his arm pulling him down closer, pressing their lips together in a heated kiss. An aroused moan at the taste of her essence on his tongue.

So into the kiss, Soraya didn’t feel him push off his own briefs, tossing them on the floor. His hand guided her leg around his waist, pressing his arousal against her folds. She bites his lip with a needy moan.

”More.” She mumbles into his mouth. He rocks down. The tip of him inching its way inside her heat.

Jey watches her eyes roll to the back of her head,, adjusting to his size. A cocky grin on his face he bottoms out. He kisses along her slacked jaw. He grinds his hips, using both hands to hold her thighs on his torso.

A low, rough grunt, with every squeeze of her pussy around his dick. Her essence coating his erection making the slip easier with each long stroke.

His weight against her body forcing her body to take it; rolling them on his side. His hand grabbing at the pliant flesh of her ass. He grips harshly while bouncing her down on his thighs.

The smell of sweat and sex filled the room. Josh leaves tender kisses along her shoulders. His hips curve upwards, tapping the sensitive bundle of nerves.

”oh fuck.” She gasps clenching around him to make him stop. A harsh slap to her thigh makes her look at him. A dangerous glare on his face.

”You can take it.” His length and girth stretched her so much. When she doesn’t let go, he pulls out, putting her on her stomach.

“Josh-.” The sting from his hand on her ass stopped her. He rubs it softly, using both hands to spread her cheeks apart. She flinches at his wet tongue eating her from behind.

”who-?” He grits out, prepared to smack the bouncing bottom again.

”Daddy.” She rocks back, hearing a pleased hum leaving his lips. He had wanted to make love to her, yet the sight of her ass in the air changed his mind. His own arousal covered in her dripping cum. He places a pillow under her hips, leaning down to kiss up her spine.

Her arms spread out next to her head, he rubs his hands up her arms, linking with her own, to pin her to the bed. His front pressed to her back. He plunges forward in a sharp thrust. Her falling back against his shoulder with a whine.

He circles his hips, lips pressed to her cheek with sweet kisses. “Feel good hm?”

She nods, words caught in her throat with each move he makes. His large, veiny dick filled her in the best way possible. She turns her head slightly, his own coming down to kiss her.

The once playing music drowned out by the sounds of her moans and grunts; skin slapping against skin. It was erotic the way she melted under him. He frees a hand to grip her throat, pulling her up on her knees making her plant her hands firmly.

”So close baby.” Jey groans. His nose pressed into her cheeks whispering praises in her ear, light kisses adding to the throbbing sensation that joined them together.

A familiar fluttering in her belly, she clenches and he grunts in her ear. “That’s it.” He comes, hitting that spot over and over again that had her screaming his name softly.

“Good girl.” He staggers his thrust, timing it with his own orgasm. “gonna cum for daddy?”

Unable to form coherent words, she squeaks instead when his right hand reaches around her, using his fingers to rub her sensitive clit. Soraya jerks forward at the feeling of his hand squeezing her throat and the other on her tender flesh with every stroke of his thick dick.

“Words mama.”

”mhm.. Yes.” She whimpers, taking all of him like the good girl she was. His hand around her throat moves to her right cheek squeezing softly.

”Cum for daddy princes.” He kisses the back of her shoulder, letting her bounce back against him.

Soraya feels the orgasm build up. Her arms shake, going weak as she falls flat against the bed. A helpless sweet little cry echoes of the walls when her release finally overcomes her senses. She closes her eyes, letting him use her.

Jey’s movements don’t stop, her core overly sensitive. The mixing of her shaky breathes and his thick growls only intensify when he snaps forward, pressing his hips into hers. His load painting her walls.

“Fuck.” He hisses when he pulls out slowly. The juices connecting from her cunt to his tip.

This wasn’t how he expected their first time together would go, but he would take it. Jey slides out of his bed. The once bright sky now littered with stars.

He turns on the light, smiling at her relaxed form. Her body littered with his teeth marks, and hickies. Joshua kisses up her back.

“No more.” she mumbles. He lets out a deep rumble laugh from his belly.

”Let’s get you cleaned up.” He rolls her on her back and cradles her body in his arms. A quick kiss to her nose getting that shy smile he fell in love with.

His bathroom, just as spacious as his bedroom, was her favorite room in his house. The dual head walk in shower was the best thing there; comfortably fitting the both of them.

The steam quickly filling the room; they clean their bodies. Jey steals tiny kisses here and there. It was a quick shower; not wanting to get dry skin and soaked heads. She took the wig off, placing it on a wig head she had one his dresser. She had accumulated so much stuff over here, that she might as well move in. Her clothes miso mixed in with his, she just grabs whatever touches her had first.

The random shirt, being one his old merch shirts; it swallowed her frame.

“Hungry?” The goofy grin on his face does nothing to persuade her that he was only talking about food; he could only hope she was just as hungry as him.

Soraya looks down, laughing at the giant bright word in her chest. . “Yeeet.”

Jey’s head shakes with a smile; his heart swelling at her genuine laughter.. “I’ll order in. Whataburger? The usual?”

“I was thinking we could cook.” She loved when Jey cooked, he loved cooking for her and with. He had begun teaching her some of his favorites.

He was in the mood for traditional food tonight. “Maybe your famous chicken.” She hints, reaching in the drawers to pull out the matching lavalava set he got them.

The lavalava fit snug around her waist, bringing her a deeper sense of connection with him. Their hectic schedules made it hard to incorporate their culture in the relationship. However, any chance she got, she would take it.

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multimilfs · 1 year

Text

Melissa Schemmenti x Fem!Reader: Stairway to Heaven

Summary: Anon requested Melissa Schemmenti + 132 -- "I didn't think it was possible to love someone this much."

List of prompts found here!

A/N: Happy ficmas everyone!! I have been working really hard to get ready for kickoff today and I hope you'll all enjoy what I have in store! Enjoy!

Special thank you to the amazing @arewecoolio for reading this over for any errors!! You're the best 💖

Full Ficmas List

Tag List: @multifandomfix @greenawayprentiss @escapetodreamworld @ghostsunderstoodmysoul

Warning(s): None

Gary is cool. He's even funny on occasion, when he remembers the punchline. He treats Melissa like a Queen—though she deserves nothing less—and worships the ground she walks on. But you’re not convinced he’s good enough for her.

You’re watching the two interact across the lunchroom with simmering jealousy. It’s an ugly emotion you’re not fond of feeling, but one you can’t seem to shake these days. The grip on your grading pen tightens as Melissa laughs at some joke of Gary’s.

“Girl, you’ve got to do something about all… that.” Ava says, motioning to your expression, “Channel that anger into something productive. Like packing orders. Or sex.”

“I’m not participating in your pyramid scheme.” You answer.

“Oh, so you’re going to get some? Finally. It’s hard having to entertain you with my stories when I’m not getting anything back.”

“To be fair, I never asked to hear about your sex life,” You point out. Ava shrugs and you continue, “If you tell me about Tyrone one more time I might lose it.”

“Tyrone? He’s old news. I’m onto Jamal now, keep up.”

“Jamal? What about his sister?”

“She was into some weird stuff. I’m freaky too, but even I draw the line at dolls.”

Ava shivers and you decide not to ask. It’s better for your sanity that way, though you’re morbidly curious. Ava never tells a bad story.

Another presence joins the table as Janine sidles up, looking far too awake and positive for 9 am on a Tuesday. She smiles obliviously.

“Dolls? I loved dolls as a kid.”

Ava scoffs, “Yeah, I bet you made them kiss each other and all that nonsense.”

“Of course I did. It was like directing my own little show!”

“Is that where the control issues started?” You ask.

Janine’s oblivious smile drops and she levels you with a look. It’s closer to matching Barbara’s with every day that passes, it’s almost impressive; but unless Barbara herself levels one at you, you’re going to remain unphased.

“Don’t shame my childhood development just because you’re jealous over Melissa and the vending machine guy.”

You turn red, “I am not jealous!”

“Right. And I wasn’t named tastiest doomsday prepper in Philly.” Ava says, rolling her eyes.

You and Janine lock eyes, wearing matching expressions of bewilderment. Everytime you talk to Ava you learn more about her; that isn’t always a good thing. When Janine opens her mouth, you give her a subtle shake of your head. Once the two get started it’s impossible to get them to stop.

Unfortunately, Janine is too stubborn, and has to do things her way; she engages the Principal in a battle of wits she can’t win. You tune it out the second she starts in on how doomsday prepping is futile and the kind of neurotic spending reaction it induces only benefits the government. That isn’t a can of worms you feel like glancing inside.

You decide to torture yourself emotionally instead.

It should be easy to watch Melissa laugh and grin in that smug, bright-eyed way she pulls off so well, but it turns your stomach to know Gary is the cause of it. He’s nice enough—that’s the excuse you try to use everytime, to no avail—but he isn’t you. And against the slim odds of someone like Melissa ever wanting you romantically, you wish it was you.

Does he know her favorite restaurants, her favorite soap operas? Does he know about the years Melissa dedicated to caring for her Nana? Does he know how incredibly fucking lucky he is to have Melissa Ann Schemmenti wrapped around his finger?

The likelihood of him knowing anything important is slim-to-none. The redhead is too private to share information so soon, but the little green-eyed monster in your head prods you, asking what if he does? Your fists clench in your lap. You’ve been climbing the stairway to heaven this whole time and Gary’s probably on the highway.

“Hey, hon,” You’re surprised from your thoughts to see the object of them in front of you, leaning on the table, smiling.

You smile back, “Hey, Mel.”

“What are you doing tonight?”

Hope claws up your throat. You shove it down violently, leaning back in your chair, arms crossed over your chest.

“Depends. Why?”

“Gary was asking about you, he wants to meet ya. I was thinking you could bring your secret lover on a double-date tonight. You meet my guy, I meet yours.”

You tilt your head, brows scrunching, “Secret lover?”

“Oh come on,” Melissa rolls her eyes. She levels you with a look that says don’t give me that bullshit, “I’m not blind. You suddenly go silent on all things romance and think I wouldn’t figure out what that meant?”

Nerves and mortification make you nod, smiling sheepishly. Your chest hurts. Of course she’d notice; after several years of friendship and teaching together, how could she not? The two of you were practically glued at the hip before Gary came along. No topic had been too much and then for you to go silent… you can see how that’d come across. You’re glad she didn’t suss out the real reason.

“I’m not sure. Things are still pretty new…”

“I’ll buy your drinks.”

That makes you pause.

Then you see how she’s looking at you. She’s leaning down into your space, grinning like she knows she's won. You can’t deny her anything, not when you know how much it’ll mean to her for you to really meet Gary as her romantic interest rather than a passing acquaintance. It’ll kill you. Watching her laugh with him will undo your feeble grip on sanity.

It’ll kill you, but you’ll do it for her anyway.

“When and where?”

— —

This is a terrible idea.

The place Gary chose is a total dive, and not the good kind; every surface is covered in a fine layer of grime and ash, ninety percent of the men and women at the bar smoking like chimneys, and the beer you ordered tastes like if someone decided to waft alcohol in the direction of their drink. All of this you could forgive.

What you can’t forgive is the absence of a proper pool table.

Every table in the place is falling apart at the seams. There’s maybe two cues per table and some of the nets have holes large enough to send grown men chasing after solid and striped balls alike.

The worst part? Melissa stands in the center of it all, smiling like none of it bothers her. You know better. Her smile is strained at the edges, her eyes slightly pained. If only she’d say the word, you’d sweep her out of here. She just maintains that strained smile when you walk up to her.

“Where’s the secret lover I was promised?” Melissa asks.

You smile, though your heart isn’t in it. It’d taken endless promises to get her to agree, but eventually—

“Sorry I’m late y'all. There’s a guy selling mixtapes outside and I had to hear it before I bought anything. Can’t be too careful, you know?”

Melissa’s smile melts from her face. Her eyes bore hard into you, dark with emotion. As she looks between you and Ava—who leans against the table next to you, either totally oblivious or uncaring—her jaw tenses.

Gary chooses that moment to speak, a jovial smile on his face, “Now I did not see this coming! I never would’ve guessed you two would be seeing each other.”

“Neither did I.” Melissa says.

You want to disappear into the floor. Despite the fact that Melissa is openly seeing Gary, you feel you’ve done something wrong.

It doesn’t help that Ava drapes herself against your side. She makes deliberate, intense eye contact with Melissa, and takes a slow sip of a drink you failed to notice. The tension is thick enough to cut with a knife. You’re grateful for the absence of anything sharp.

“What can I say, I lucked out. Anyone would be lucky to get a piece of her.” Ava says. Her tone is startlingly sincere.

You give her a hard look. She just shrugs.

“No drink for me?” You ask, anything to distract from the way you can’t look at Melissa.

Ava raises a brow, “If you want something, you just gotta ask.”

“I’d kill for a gin and tonic.”

“Got it.”

“I’ve got it, you two sit.” Melissa interjects.

She extracts herself from Gary and stands at the same time Ava does. On another night, you’d take Melissa's offer as the kind act it is, but tonight it feels strangely like a threat.

The two are caught in a strange staring contest. You want to reach out and tug Ava down into her seat, but you’re frozen, wondering what the hell is going on.

“I’ll get it.” Ava says.

“She’s my friend.” Melissa crosses her arms over her chest.

“She’s my date.”

Melissa’s body tenses at the word.

You’re too busy watching Ava, trying to decipher where she’s been hiding this acting talent. She had been reluctant to join your ruse and now it seems like she couldn’t be anywhere else. For a moment it feels authentic enough to make your stomach turn.

Gary cuts in before Melissa can back down, “I could use another beer if you’re going towards the bar.”

“Sure. You got it, Gar.”

The two walk away in tense silence. Melissa keeps looking at Ava from the corner of her eyes, while the principal pretends she isn’t there.

It leaves you with Gary and you smile. Trying to pretend there’s no tension is easier with the women across the bar.

“It’s good to meet you,” He says, friendly enough, “Melissa talks about you enough I feel like I already know you, but I’m glad she got you to come out tonight.”

“Yeah. It’s good to meet you officially. Besides the occasional run-ins during lunch, I mean.”

He nods and drinks the last swig of his beer. You take a few seconds to glance through the haze of smoke towards the bar. Melissa leans one arm on it, waiting while the bartender runs around helping out rough-looking men and women. She looks perfectly placed and yet stands out; she’s probably the most beautiful woman to ever set foot in this place.

Ava’s chatting up a woman at the bar like Melissa isn’t even there. So much for her putting on a good act.

Even if she’s not looking at Ava directly, you know Melissa’s listening, cataloging everything. You’ll get an earful about having self-respect when choosing partners later.

“There’s another reason I had her ask you here tonight.” Gary says.

His face is serious. You’ve never seen the man without a smile and it unnerves you. Trying not to let that show, you raise an eyebrow.

“I wanted to meet the woman Melissa’s in love with.”

You blanch.

“Gary, that’s—she’s not—“

A hand settles on top of yours and his smile makes an appearance. It’s kind, kinder than you deserve after all the things you’ve thought about him.

“I knew there were three of us in this relationship when I went out with her the first time. But I’m giving you the chance to make it two again,” He says, “She’s crazy about you and I can see you feel the same way. She’s all yours.”

You should be overjoyed. Melissa feels the same way about you, you have a shot? Instead, you feel angry.

“You’re going to give her up just like that?” You snap.

Gary startles you by laughing.

“I can’t exactly give up what isn’t mine.”

“She chose you.”

“Sometimes people make mistakes.” When you seem unconvinced, he shakes his head, “Melissa’s a good woman, she deserves someone who makes her happy. That just happens to be you and not me. I’m not mad about it.”

You’re reeling. The room feels like it's spinning and you don’t have time to regain your focus before the women return. Ava sets down your gin and tonic with a nod.

Melissa starts up an animated conversation with Gary, who nods along, adding in his own comments. He keeps glancing over at you when Melissa won’t. The whole thing makes your stomach turn; you have no clue what you’re doing.

You grab Ava’s hand, flashing a strained smile at the pair, “Excuse us for a moment,” and drag the principal off to the bathrooms.

Once you’ve shoved Ava in the ladies room and locked the door behind you, you spin on your heel towards the other woman.

“I know you want this to bother her, but dragging me into the bathroom for a quickie is a bit much, even by my standards.” Ava says.

“That’s not what this is.”

“Right, why else am I here then?”

“When you and Melissa went to grab drinks, Gary told me Melissa’s in love with me.”

Ava stares at you.

“That’s it? I could have told you that months ago.”

You blink, “What?”

“Yeah, neither of you are subtle. You practically have it written on your billboard sized forehead.”

Suddenly self-conscious, you reach a hand up to your forehead, before reminding yourself to focus on the task at hand. Ava knew Melissa returned your feelings the whole time. You wonder who else knows and has let you stew in jealousy for weeks.

Melissa’s reaction to Ava makes a lot more sense. It’s almost comforting to know that you’re not the only one who has been fighting with jealousy. You feel very, very blind.

“Who else knows?” You ask. Your friend gives you a blank stare, “Seriously? Everyone knows?”

“Yes. Do me a favor though and play dumb a few more weeks? I’ve got good money on this.”

“You bet on me?”

“I bet on Melissa, actually, which is why I need you to keep quiet.”

“Ava, I’m not going to ignore this because you want to win a bet. Come on.”

Ava rolls her eyes, “Fine, I’ll cut you in on the bet.”

“Ava!” You glare.

“This could be your chance to support a young, black entrepreneur. It’s hard out here.”

“Try that on Jacob.”

She lets out an ugh and throws her hands up. You want to be upset that she’s asking you to keep quiet, to lose more valuable time with Melissa, but you can’t be; even if she did leave you oblivious for weeks. If you’re going to be upset with her, you have to be upset with everyone.

It comes from a place of letting you make your own decisions; you know that and admire it just a little. But you were oblivious. Melissa seems like she is too, if Gary’s talk told you anything. Would they have let the two of you circle each other the whole time?

You would be miserable if Gary—Gary, who you’d been unfair towards this whole time—hadn’t spoken up. He’s sacrificing his chances with Melissa so you can have your own. Mentally, you make a note to get the man some kind of ‘thank-you’ gift.

Ava snaps in front of your face and you jerk back.

“What are you going to do?” She asks.

“Uh… talk to her?”

“Not the energy I was looking for, but good enough. Let’s go.”

Ava grabs your arm, not unkindly, and drags you to the door. You drag your feet.

“Now?!”

She doesn’t even dignify your question with a response. The bathroom door is opened and you’re nudged through it. You walk, but throw a glare over your shoulder, annoyed at her sudden silence. Ava doesn’t acknowledge it.

Gary is the only one left at the table and you panic, eyes searching the room. The heart in your chest settles when you catch a glimpse of familiar red hair.

Melissa’s across the bar at one of the more put together pool tables, surrounded by women in a shocking amount of leather. Her eyes are focused right on you. They move briefly to Ava, though she doesn’t seem to find anything damning. The focus of her gaze moves away when one of the other players nudges her and she leans over the table to line up a shot.

You’re caught for a second in watching her. Her eyes narrow before she settles in to take the shot and when she pulls back the cue, she makes direct eye contact, and sinks a solid ball in one of the pockets.

Cheers go up from the woman you assume she’s playing with. You don’t bother to look at her. Instead, you make a direct beeline for Melissa; her eyes following you every step of the way.

“Can I talk to you?” You ask when you reach her.

You’re well aware of the glances her fellow players are throwing in your direction, but you don’t care. Melissa seems curious, but she gives nothing else away.

“I’m in the middle of a game, hon.”

Laying your hand on her arm, “Please, Mel.”

Like magic, you watch her soften. She nods and hands off her cue to the nearest person without looking. You lead the way outside, wanting away from the noise and smoke for a few minutes, if only to clear your head.

The silence is too tense for your liking, but neither of you are doing anything to break it. You breathe deeply. You’re at a loss on what to say; how do you tell someone you’re in love with them?

Instead of anything rational coming from your mouth, you ask, “How do you feel about Gary?”

Melissa jerks in surprise, “That’s what you pulled me out here for?”

“He seems to think your feelings, your heart, lie elsewhere,” You barrel forward, hoping it works in your favor, “Namely, with me.”

Her eyes widen slightly before she schools her expression. It’s all you need to feel more secure in blindly following Gary’s word.

“I’m not sure where he got that idea.” Melissa says.

“But you’re not denying it.”

“Does it matter? You seem to have things pretty easy with Ava.”

A note of bitterness slips into her voice. You soften, recognizing the underlying jealousy you’d been feeling only this morning.

“It matters to me,” You say, “because I’m crazy about you, Mel, and I need to know you feel the same way.”

Melissa doesn’t bother to hide her surprise this time. You smile, but fidget under all of her attention. You want to reveal every thought and feeling to this woman in a way that’s overwhelming. She seems so shocked, you can’t help but want to assure her of how real your feelings are.

“I didn’t think it was possible to love someone this much,” You admit. It feels odd to say it out loud, “But you make a lot of impossible things feel possible.”

She looks at you like she’s never seen you before. It’s daunting.

“You really mean that?” Melissa asks.

“Wholeheartedly.”

“And what about Ava?”

You chuckle, “I bribed her into playing the part. She’s a surprisingly good actress.”

“Good.”

Melissa leans forward and kisses you.

It isn’t the kind of kiss you expect, but it’s the kind you always daydreamed about; the soft, almost hesitant way she claims your lips, while her hands dig into your hips. You’ve never felt so awkward and so pleasant in your life. You have no idea what to do with your hands.

The other kisses in your life never felt so strange. You wonder how much they really meant to you, if this is what a real, loving kiss feels like; unsure and yet, eager.

Throwing your nerves out the window, you give in to all of it. You sink into the whirlwind of emotions and wrap yourself around Melissa. Her kiss grows more insistent and you match it, pulling where she pushes, moving with every forceful press of her lips.

You’re on your last shred of oxygen when she pushes you back. Only an inch of space separates the two of you taking in furious gulps of breath, cheeks flushed pink and wearing matching smiles. It hardly feels real.

“You’ve been holding out on me.” Melissa says.

“Hardly. I’d have kissed you in a second if you asked.” You say sincerely.

“Me? Why would I be the one to ask you?”

You raise a brow, “Well, you were the one seeing someone else.”

“I wouldn’t have gone out with him if you said something.”

A laugh leaves your lips unbidden. Your eyes sparkle when you look up at Melissa, wondering how you managed to get so lucky. You’re not sure you’ll ever be able to answer that question. She’s wonderful and kind and beautiful and all the things you feel you don’t deserve. She’s yours anyway.

Her eyes shine as she stares back. Wishing you could jump into her mind, you get lost in them. Then you do as she wants and capture her lips in another kiss. It’s shorter than the first and more comfortable, but the feeling of newness still lingers.

Not for the first time, you wonder how much time you’ve lost being jealous. But you try not to dwell too much; it’s difficult when the most beautiful woman in the world is staring into your eyes. The lost time doesn’t matter when you have it now—when you have her now.

#melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti x reader #abbott elementary #abbott elementary x reader #melissa schemmenti imagine #abbott elementary imagine #wlw #wlw imagine #multimilfswritings #dec2022 #multimilfsficmas2022

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snek-panini · 9 months

Text

It is Monday, and Monday is for books. Look at these beautiful things! They took me five months to make. I tried so many new things in the process and I am extremely proud of them. This is a binding of @racketghost's amazing Good Omens fic Strange Moons (Hi. I hope it's ok I tagged you in this. Your fic has been one of my favorites since I found it in 2019.) The story is a series of short fics (and one long one) that really need no introduction from me. They're set throughout the 20th century, and they are beautiful and sensual and moody and you should definitely read them if you haven't already. This is the longest work I've bound so far, but I was fortunate that the word count on the shorter fics added up to almost exactly the length of the final, longest one, making them the perfect choice for a two-volume set. I tried very hard to get them to be an exact match, and they turned out even better than I pictured.

More pics under the cut! Two books means twice the pics, and all the stuff I tried here means it's a very long post, so be warned.

Individual images of the covers. The titles are done in silver htv over brown faux leather, edged in charcoal bookcloth. The graphics are the same on both, except for the title text, and they have the same image of the reaching hands on the back. All the art assets are from rawpixel, I just flipped and rotated some of them to make the back image.

The cover materials were an interesting challenge. I'd worked with both before and wanted to incorporate them both in the design, but after measuring and checking grain direction I found I didn't have enough of either of them to do a full book, or even a half bind. So they're actually made by affixing the faux leather to the book board, then layering strips of book cloth over the top. The corners are actually mitered at a 45-degree angle. Here's a close-up:

It's two long strips of cloth (spine and fore edge, not mitered) with two short strips (top and bottom, mitered) glued over the top. There was so much measuring, omg. I bought a new tool to make sure I got it right. Hilariously, I still didn't have enough leather and had to order another roll anyway. Also hilariously, I got the idea to do this after seeing an image of a leather-bound book made by a professional that appeared to have the same feature, i.e. multiple materials with an inset and mitered corners. Wow, I said, looking at a video thumbnail, I'm going to do that! So I did, even though I didn't watch the video. Much later, after I watched his tutorial, it was clear that the design was from leather dye and tooling, not the thing that I did at all. But I do like the effect, and now I know it's possible I think it'll be great for using up weird offcuts from making other covers.

Look, spines! With TITLES on them! And LITTLE RIDGES! Both firsts for me. I'm a little obsessed with them. The cricut has opened up entirely new worlds, though I suspect the little silver lines might have been easier to do with a foil pen (which I don't have) than they were with a heat press. I did them by making the cricut cut out several "=" symbols that were the same width as the spine. The raised bands are false bands; I made them by layering little pieces of chipboard on the spine stiffener, then molding the book cloth around them when I covered them. I was worried it wouldn't work, since this is usually done with leather and book cloth is apparently way less stretchy, but it worked fine. Probably because it's a small straight design, no curves or fancy bits. I'd layer the chipboard thicker next time so they stand up higher (this is 2 layers, I'd do 3 in future) but I'm delighted by how this turned out. They look so professional.

The endpapers on both books are a constellation print. I had a really hard time trying to find something to go with the typeset, and the only ones I liked were from an etsy seller who kept selling out of them. I got lucky eventually but it was one of many hassles that befell this project. I also made my own end bands using a tutorial from the Renegade Bindery discord. I had some issues and I didn't quite nail them but I think they're pretty good for a first time (ok, second time, the first one was on a practice text block, but my point stands). I had originally intended this to be a split boards binding, my first time trying that, but when I got the boards glued on I found that they were crooked. Really crooked. Completely misaligned. Much swearing followed this discovery. I ended up having to cut the boards free, cutting the mull and tapes in the process. The mull was easily replaced, but the parts of the tapes that are usually glued to the boards were a lost cause. I reused the boards, but flipped them so the edge with the cut tapes inside is at the fore edge so I could have a cleaner hinge. You can see in the last photo that the cover board is a little wider at the fore edge. On the plus side, there are no tapes to wrinkle my pretty endpapers and it combated the small bit of spine swell I had. On the downside, the hinge has less support and the only thing I learned was How Not To Make A Sewn Boards Binding.

I may have gone a little nuts with the images in this typeset. In my defense they look very pretty. In order, that's the title page, table of contents, section break image (same as the back cover, just tiny), chapter header and ender (each chapter has one on its first and last pages, they just look particularly cool when you can get a full page spread like this), and the image on the last page of the book (same as the cover image, almost). The cover image was also supposed to have little rays coming off its moon like this one does, but the lines proved too thin for the cricut and it ate them. I still like how it looks though. The prose in this story is really rich and I was in the mood for opulence when I did it. I have absolutely no regrets.

Here's a feature that's unique to this typeset. One of the chapters in the second volume has three alternating, interwoven timelines. I read them fine on Ao3 but had trouble following them when I formatted it for printing. Usually I'd use the section break image to denote when there's a scene skip but there are literally dozens in this chapter, like 40-60 breaks over the course of 10 or so pages, and it looked very busy with images in it. So I left them out, made the line skips single instead of double like they are elsewhere in the book, and I color-coded the text instead. One timeline is printed in black, one is dark gray, and one is dark blue. And it's a very surreal chapter, with the characters having some very confusing and conflicting emotions, so I feel like reading multicolored text when you're not expecting it (the rest of the book is all normal black and this bit is near the middle) sort of reflects that unbalanced feeling? I hope so anyway, because I love the way it looks so much.

I learned so many things in the course of making these. I'm absolutely doing all of them again. Part of the reason it took so long was that I wanted it to be perfect, or as near as I could get, and I had to take the time to solve all the puzzles it threw at me. But it stretched my creativity and ingenuity and I could not be more in love with the finished product.

#bookbinding #fanbinding #snek makes books #good omens #fic rec #this got super long #and considerably more journal-like than I planned #i guess when you work on something for five months it becomes part of you huh #there were more images too #i took so many photos of these

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miss-celestia13 · 9 months

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Begin Again

Jake x MC Fluffy One Shot

Words: 2.8k

It’s Jake’s first day at his new job. His nerves are getting the best of him, but MC knows just what to say and do to get him out of his head. A new beginning, the promise of peace and safety.

The ending of my story made me want to return to these two. While I prepare for my sequel, it was fun and peaceful to write something fluffy again! It’s more tooth rotting fluff and romance! I hope you enjoy it 🥰❤️

Jake

His inner critic was very loud that morning. It was desperately trying to save him from making mistakes, but all it gave him was anxiety, doubt, and misplaced shame. The man looking back at him in the mirror was not the one he was accustomed to. Gaunt, grey and terrified was how he used to look. A specter in human skin who lived in the shadows. Now, a glaze to his eyes spoke of a kinder life and peace, but the harsh line of his tensed jaw and the frown between his brows gave away his fear. He could hear her padding around the kitchen as he finished brushing his teeth and rinsed his mouth, ensuring his hair wasn’t too unkempt before he left the sanctuary of the bathroom to gather his things. Today was no ordinary day. He was starting his new job, the first in five years and one he was semi-confident he would excel at, but his social battery worried him. Would it hold enough charge for an eight-hour workday? He wasn’t entirely sure.

She insisted he spend the night so she could see him off on his first day, and she woke him with his preferred black coffee and two slices of buttered toast. His stomach was a nest of snakes, and she seemed to know he couldn’t stomach anything else. It had settled him somewhat, and her tender, loving touches and smiles helped more. Still, there was a definite tremble in his hands as he packed the forms he had filled in with his shiny new bank details and hunted for his favorite pen, which he found tucked behind her ear as she entered the bedroom to see how he was getting on. She gave it to him with a sheepish smile, and he chuckled at the pink flush on her cheeks.

“You look like a professional.” She teased, eyeing his freshly pressed shirt and black trousers.

“I don’t think they’d appreciate me turning up in a hoodie and jeans,” He said.

“Hmm, they don’t know what they’re missing.” She laughed but quickly stopped as she sensed the tension in him.

“Hey, are you okay? You look like you’re about to be sick.”

Jake swallowed hard, head shaking as he drew in a tight breath, “I’m... terrified. What if I fuck it up? What if they find out what I did? What if-”

“Jake. Breathe,” Her hands were on his shoulders as she looked him in the eye, “Let’s try something different. What if none of that happens, and you love it? What if this is what you need to finally feel safe? You won’t know for sure until you’re there. Don’t ruin it before you get started.”

He knew she was right, but there was an iron band around his chest and a dead weight in his feet that kept him rooted to the floor. He didn’t want to let her down. Wanted to build a life with her, and to do it, he needed a job, and he was very aware of all the ways it could go wrong. Taking a steadying breath, he shook out his tingling hands and nodded, hoping he looked braver than he felt.

“I just hate being scared of everything. It makes me feel useless, weak,” He admitted in a whisper, watching as her brows furrowed. That spark ignited in her eyes, the one that always appeared when he was being too hard on himself.

“I’d be more concerned if you weren’t anxious or nervous. It’s normal to be afraid of something new, especially after what you went through. But Jake, the only time you can ever be brave is when you’re afraid. It doesn’t make you useless. It makes you strong and courageous because you’ll do it in spite of your fear.”

There was nothing but stolid belief and conviction in her tone as she stared up at him, a soft smile on her plush mouth, and he knew she was right and he would adapt like he always did.

“How do you always know the right thing to say?” He wondered aloud and she winked, pushing up on her toes to kiss his cheek before turning to leave the bedroom. Her response was tossed over her shoulder before she walked out the door.

“I just say what I wish people told me whenever I was afraid or anxious. And I know you better than anyone. You just needed someone to remind you who you are.”

Shaking his head, Jake didn’t question it or the calmness she left behind as he zipped his work bag shut and carried it through to the living room. She was waiting for him, a coy smile on her lips as she handed him a lunch bag and ducked her head. His heart swelled and warmed, touched that someone wanted to take care of him. Her quiet care for those she loved was the most beautiful thing about her. He tried to open it, but she stopped him, a note of alarm in her voice that made him arch a brow.

“Wait until lunchtime to open it. I could barely close it; it’ll explode all over the place, and you’ll be late if you don’t hurry.” She rambled, not meeting his eye, and though he wanted to question her, she was right. He had to leave.

“Thank you. I’ll let you know how it goes when I get home. I love you.” He murmured and kissed her softly, smiling into it as she sighed happily.

Parting with the promise of spending another night together, Jake grabbed his car keys and belongings and headed out the door. She stood in the doorway waving and grinning as he backed out of her driveway and onto the main road, beeping the horn before he steeled his spine and followed the GPS to his new workplace. The drive seemed to pass almost instantly. Like he blinked and he was there, he hoped the day went by just as quickly. The parking lot was already filling up, and he had to circle it a few times, his heart rate climbing higher with every turn. Once he found a parking space, he double-checked he had all he needed and got out of the car, feeling his phone buzz in his pocket as he walked toward the building. Pulling it out, he saw her name and smiled as he opened it.

MC: Good luck, love. You’ll smash it. I’ll help you forget all about it tonight ;-)

Jake: Thank you. Enjoy your day, and I’ll hold you to that. :-)

He turned it off as he entered the building, schooling his features into what he hoped was a welcoming smile as he approached the front desk and gave the receptionist his name. The kindly older woman grinned at him and directed him to his floor, handing him a passkey with his photo, name, and title already on it. Security analyst. It sounded very official, and he couldn’t help his wry chuckle as he took the elevator to meet with his boss. If Jake from two years ago could see him now… He’d barely left the elevator when his name was called. He recognized the man’s baritone voice and whirled to face his new employer. His name was Harvey. He was a sauve and perfectly put-together man in his mid-forties. His suit must’ve cost at least a couple month's wages. Jake felt like a boy around him but knew it was in his head as the man gestured for him to follow him inside his office.

Once he was seated, Harvey gave him a lengthy rundown of all that was expected of him and how desperately they needed his help and expertise. It was overwhelming, but he managed to stay on track and digest the urgency of the situation. Jake nodded and asked a few questions, mainly listening as Harvey explained the flaws in their systems and the temporary patches they had in place. It would not hold forever, and Jake’s job was to close all holes and ensure everything ran smoothly. He was being paid handsomely for it and knew he could do it. It was the human aspect of the job he worried over, but he’d cross that bridge when he came to it. There was no point in borrowing problems from the future when the present held more than enough to keep him occupied. His boss seemed to deflate with relief when Jake told him the ideas he’d already had. Still, he wanted to get familiar with the systems before implementing anything. Harvey was amenable to that, and soon, they were on their way to Jake’s new office. An office. His time spent in dingy motels while searching for Hannah felt like another life as he surveyed the room.

“I’ll let you set yourself up and get a feel for it. If you have any problems or questions, call my office. We’re glad to have you here.” Harvey said with a smile.

Jake thanked him again and returned his goodbye as Harvey closed the door and left him to it. He slumped into his new chair and blew out a breath as he turned his computer on and signed into his work account. He soon forgot to be nervous as the familiar feel of the keys under his fingers and their comforting clacking filled the quiet room, reminding him of being at home. Working on his laptop while she flitted around the house or kept him company. The morning passed in a blur of very little in the way of progress, but he learned a lot more than he thought he would take in on his first day. The size of the company was an issue. As was the fact employees took work laptops home. That wasn’t his problem yet, and he soon began compiling a list of the most glaring, dangerous issues. He sent an email containing his findings to his boss, checked the time, and was surprised to see it was already lunchtime. He didn’t want to leave the safety of his office and decided to eat there for the day at least. Socializing could wait until he got his feet under him.

Signing off for the hour, he reached under his desk for his lunch bag. He set it on his desk, carefully opening it as he remembered her strange demeanor earlier that day. He was smiling as he saw the effort she went to. Along with his well-filled sandwiches were a bag of chips, three energy drinks, and a bunch of his favorite snacks. His chest felt tight and pleasantly warm as he sent her a quick text to let her know how much he appreciated her. He was happily eating a sandwich when he pulled the bag of chips out to add some to it and saw the note at the bottom of the bag. His heart kicked up as he picked it up and read it.

No matter what your silly brain tells you,

you are excellent at everything you do and can do this.

I am so proud of you I could cry.

You have strengthened me in my weakest moments.

I plan to always do the same for you.

Don’t forget how happy you make me.

Enjoy your lunch.

I love you.

His vision swam as he read it again and again. She was always surprising him. He never knew what was next with her, and he liked it, no, he loved it. She shook him out of his rigid numbness and convinced him he could have and be more. She was a balm to his every wound, and he knew she felt the same about him. He saw it in the way she went soft around him, all smiles and gentle kisses. Even when they disagreed, she was never cruel or harsh. She stood her ground, made her argument, and always listened to his side. They were a team, and he was doing this job to make sure that the life they dreamed of came true and she never had to worry about him again. He barely tasted his lunch after that, time passing swiftly as he thought of everything he would say when he got home.

The rest of the work day went as quickly as the morning had, and Jake felt lighter and more sure of himself as he closed everything down and left his office. Harvey wished him a pleasant evening as Jake poked his head into his office to say goodbye and thanked him for the opportunity. He was in his car and on the road home within minutes, music blaring, and the window rolled down as the sun made the tarmac shimmer. Fresh air filled his lungs, and he breathed much easier now the day was behind him. She would already be finished work, and he knew where she would be as he neared her house and slowed to turn into the driveway. Seeing the side gate was unlocked, he knew his hunch was correct and hurried out of the car to find her. Her garden was half-wild and half-tamed. Long grass and tidy borders filled with carefully selected plants and flowers. Birds chittered in the trees lining the back of it, and she was on her knees before a flower bed, hair tied back in a messy bun as she pruned the rose bushes. Their sweet scent hung heavy in the summer air as he approached and admired her in her element.

Bees buzzed around the flowers as he announced his presence so he didn’t frighten her; their fuzzy jackets were weighed down with pollen as they jumped from bloom to bloom. As she turned to him and saw him smiling, her shoulders relaxed, and her eyes softened as she got to her feet and took off her gloves, tossing them on the ground as she came to him. No hesitation, no second guessing, she invaded his personal space and gave a satisfied little sigh. Her arms wound around his waist. She smelled like earth, grass, and roses, a fragrant perfume he wished he could bottle.

“Well, how was it? Was anyone mean to you?” She laughed as he wrapped his arms around her and shook his head.

“It was... good. I think I’ll like it there. And no, cheeky, they were nice.”

“See, I knew you would do great.” She said, watching his face for any sign of discontent and finding none.

“I especially enjoyed the food you packed for me,” He hedged, delighted to see a blush creeping up her neck as she avoided his eye.

“Did you now?”

“I did. Someone left me a really encouraging note. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

She shrugged, eyes twinkling as she said, “I haven’t the slightest inkling. What did it say?”

“That you are proud of me and love me. Some other things too, but I don’t want you to get any redder than you already are,” he teased, kissing her forehead as she hummed and cleared her throat.

“I suppose it’s all true... Tell me, did it help?” She asked, and he nodded.

“It did. Thank you, you’re far too good to me.”

She shook her head vehemently, “Nope. None of that. You’re more than enough for me. If I have to tell you -”

He laughed as he cut her off with a kiss that made her melt into him and clutch his shirt in two tight fists. He would never tire of kissing her. That he was able to whenever he wanted felt like a gift, and he would not waste it, not for a second. He’d already spent years of his life as a ghost, he refused to do so again. The feel and scent of her were all he knew as he possessed her mouth and knew this was where he was meant to be. They were only at the beginning. There were so many years and opportunities ahead of them, and he could choose the things that made him happy, not what kept him free of his pursuers. That was the most exciting thing of all, and he couldn’t wait to make mistakes that wouldn’t end his life or put him in jail. Just wanted to make those normal mess-ups that one could learn from. He hadn’t been able to do that in so long. It felt silly to look forward to such a thing, but he knew what life was like without it, and it wasn’t worth it. The world was theirs for the taking, and he knew they would make it to whatever end they wanted. Together, always together. And whether the weather be frost, rain, or sunshine, they would be each other’s shelter. It was a vow he was only too happy to keep.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Thank you for reading! And if you reblog or comment, thank you so much for that, too! I am so grateful to you. I hope you enjoyed it 🥰❤️

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nighttimeebony · 1 year

Text

I just got into the Percy Jackson series, so here is a collection of my actual thought process while reading the first book that I bothered to write down. So, spoilers for Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thief under the cut. I guess.

EDIT: part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5

Aww, Percy. Neurodivergent rep, I am fed

Is Mr. Brunner Dionysus? I think Dionysus is a major character in this series. But then what’s the wheelchair for? And Dionysus in mythology doesn’t have a beard like that. Oh! What if he’s actually Hephaestus? That would explain the wheelchair and the bearded old man look.

HOLY FUCK IT’S THE MINOTAUR

HOLY SHIT SALLY’S DEAD WHY

Is that tree on the property line the Olive Tree from the founding of Athens myth? Because Percy is the son of Poseidon?

Percy’s dream has got to be some kind of foreshadowing about Poseidon and Zeus fighting each other. Zeus would be the bird because he’s a sky god, and Poseidon would be the horse because in a really really old myth, Poseidon turned himself into a horse to chase down Demeter. Also, the voice from underground egging them on is definitely Hades, because god of the underworld and all that

Also goddammit, Hades is the villain?? Why????? Goddammit, not again…

Mrs. Dodds was definitely a fury, but she’s called a Kindly One. Wonder what that’s about

There’s some Thing about characters dissolving when they die. Wonder what that’s about

Oh shit. I was wrong. Brunner is Chiron. Interesting. Now the whole teacher thing makes sense

Wow, Dionysus is an asshole in this one. He’s more like his older Orphic version than the newer, modern Dionysus I’m familiar with

Everyone is so in love with Luke it's embarrassing

I just adore how casually neurodivergent Percy is. All the jokey references to Dyslexia and ADHD, I just—I love it so much. And I love that it actually is dyslexia and ADHD. And that apparently all the half-bloods are dyslexic and ADHD too. We love to see it.

Oh my God, I love all of these children so much.

HOLY SHIT AUNTY EM IS A GORGON

I WAS RIGHT

I find it amusing that Hermes named the activation password for his magic shoes after his mother

I wonder what Persephone's like

Grover's gonna be the friend to betray Percy, isn't he? He better fucking not be. I love him. If Grover's the Traitor MHA-style, I'm gonna riot

One difference between Harry Potter and Percy Jackson (the characters) is that Harry marvels at every new instance of magic. But after Percy learns about the magic system, he just stops giving a shit. Once he learns that magic is real, he is surprised by absolutely nothing and does not question the irrelevant stuff, like Annabeth's invisibility hat, or how the fuck a ballpoint pen can turn into a sword.

Percy is such a sassy, sarcastic little shit and I love him so fucking much.

ECHIDNA

"Isn't that a kind of anteater?" I love this child

*Percy wondering what all the mirrors are for in the Tunnel of Love*

Me: "It's gotta be a kink thing."

*While Ares and Aphrodite were smooching with each other they could look at their favorite person: themselves*

Me: "Called it."

Wait……. Is the traitor Luke????? He's like the only other "friend" Percy has

Thank God Hades isn't the bad guy

Aw, I wanted to see Persephone. Don't worry, Percy, I'm disappointed too

You know what, from now on, anytime a protagonist has to live with an abusive parent figure, the only resolution I will accept is turning that bitch to stone and selling him on the black market.

Thank God Percy can have a nice, stable home life with his mom in between rounds of risking his life.

I'm so on-board with Percabeth, and this friend group as a whole

I FUCKING CALLED IT! LUKE WAS THE TRAITOR!

Thank God the characters in this book have a fucking brain. Percy's an impulsive little chaos gremlin, but he's not an idiot.

I'm kind of curious to see what the shipping side of the Percy Jackson fandom looks like, cuz Percabeth is great, and I'm pretty sure that's the main canon pairing, so I'm curious….

Honestly, I can't wait for Percy and Annabeth to start dating. I'm so excited to see what their relationship will be like in a romantic context

I love this book and I want more immediately.

#percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #the lightning thief #pjo #pjo spoilers #i guess?#percy jackson spoilers #annabeth chase #grover underwood #luke castellan #chiron pjo #percabeth #sally jackson #percy jackson the lightning thief

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opiumkitten · 5 months

Text

A Special Delivery

It is Christmas Eve, and there's no better way than to bring in Christmas than with the Boss himself. Sett is one of my favorite characters and I'd just been complaining about not having a Santa Settrigh when the Winterblessed line refreshed, this amazing artist created this masterpiece (which i own no rights to, but this man is truly amazing) and he wasn't included. Whether it's due to lore that he remains a Chinese New Year Skin or not, I'd prefer to sit on his lap more than Gragas or Braum...

There isn't much Sett smut, and I aim to change that little by little.

Anyway. Enjoy this Modern Delivery Man AU with our favorite Honey Badger/Wolverine!

The Collection

Word Count: 2760

MINORS DNI MINORS DNI MINORS DNI MINORS DNI MINORS DNI

*Note: My works are written from the eyes of POC. There will be descriptions as such in my works. If that makes you uncomfortable, please replace the words in your head ok?) Also I'm thinking of maybe adding a part 2 where they explore further? I'll let you know.*

Warning: Smut, Oral: Sett Receiving, Ass Eating (Reader Receiving, Yeah. I went there.)(There's more surprises...but you'll just have to read and find out.)

*knock*knock*

Shuffling down the stairs, I hurriedly tied the robe around me as I tried to focus-

“Hi!”

“Hey, packages for Y/FN Y/LN?”

“Y-yes, that me..” Sighing through the-

“Ok, let me just pull up the signature page.” Silence filled the doorway…or…actually there was a…buzz..?

Drumming her fingers on the door seemed to drown it out, her chest leaning against the frame. Her eyes seemed a bit lazy-

“Settrigh, is it?” She was looking at his name tag, biting her lip as she took in just how big he was.

Not that she had any other choice, everyone was tiny in comparison to him.

The smell of hot cocoa wafted through, making him shiver. This was his last delivery of the night. It’d been freezing all day, what’d he do to have some.

“Yeah, um…?”

“Your nose is really red…” Peaking down at her, her robe fell from her shoulder, catching on the swell of her breast…a peak of her areola showing-

“And your face seems windswept…are you ok?”

“Just…really cold out today. This uh…a gift for your boyfriend?”

Chuckling, he handed her the device-

Her hands were shaky, her dominant hand clenching the E-pen to steady her grip.

“No…best friend…we spoil each other.” She stopped signing, closing her eyes as she breathed deep.

“You ok?”

“Ye..yes…”

“I’ll take these inside for you.”

“No, its ok I can-“

“-Ma’am, let me help. My ma would give me hell if she’d knew I let a pretty woman lift something like this on her own.”

The compliment had her biting her lip and scissoring her thighs together.

Which far exceeded what's he'd expected.

Though.. she already looked flustered-…?

The buzzing came back. Low and a bit closer as he got his hands around the box-

Pulling open the door she pressed behind it as she pulled the robe down while shivering.

The chocolate smell was much stronger, making him hum as he came in.

“Where do you want me?” Y/n's eyes became hooded, but she hid her reaction as she pointed to the elegantly decorated tree. Sett did as told-

“Ah!”

The clatter of the pen hitting the ground brought his head around.

And he finally found out what the buzzing was.

A light…in the center of her ass as she bent over illuminated the robe…and droplets of arousal peaked from under the lapel. So…this is why she was so shaky, hm?

“You a holiday kinda girl?”

“…sort of…” Getting to her knees, the cheeky reply was an understatement as the red and green tinkled proudly, her round ass on display as she reached under the shoe rack.

“It looks great in here. This was my last one for the day, was thinking about getting a hot chocolate on the way home, and you definitely convinced me now.” She chuckled anxiously, collecting the pen as she stood slowly while he walked pass.

Collecting the second box, she bit her lip as he set it down, flicking the ornament-

A sharp breath brought his head around, her nervous smile as she tried slowing down her breathing.

“Thank you, Settrigh.”

“Sett is fine. I’ll be on this route permanently now, so you'll see me more often, Ms. Y/N.”

“You didn't have to bring these in. As thank you and a welcome…can I interest you in a cup of hot chocolate?”

Sett raised an eyebrow, he was sure of what he saw.

Could she really hold her bluff-

Panting, she leaned against the sofa.

“You sure? You don’t seem to be feeling well…”

“I-I’m ok…just need to do something before i-“

Cum?

Sett didn’t finish the sentence however, watching her claw at the arm.

“-Make it.”

“…Then let me go lock up the truck.”

“You can wait in here. I’ll be back down.”

He didn’t raise suspicion about it, going a bit slower to lock up everything before closing the door behind him and taking off his shoes. As he settled onto the couch, the coziness of the place sunk into his bones, knocking off the chill-

A muffled airy moan peaked through the quiet drone of the house before silence was heard again.

Sett couldn’t help but laugh, taking out his phone as he clocked in his hour break before ending the day.

When she finally came back down, she seemed a bit better, leaning against the threshold to the kitchen as she crossed her arms.

He looked so good, draped across her couch like that.

“Comfy?”

“Yeah, thank you again for this.”

“Of course, how do you want it?” Sett took a moment, watching her hips sway as she disappeared into the kitchen.

“Creamy. With milk. If you don’t mind.”

Hearing her rummage through, he waited before-

Peaking around the corner she held up vanilla almond milk.

“Do you mind?”

“No, I prefer that one. It’s what I use anyway."

Smiling, she went back in.

“In that case, do you like peppermint?”

“You reading my mind or something?”

“Califia has a peppermint mocha almond creamer. I'll need you to show me how much you want, though.”

He watched her set things up, turning on the stove before his footfalls met her ears, bringing her glance towards him as she reached for the cabinet-

“Can you pick your mug? They’re in there.”

Grabbing a large mug with cat ears, she put in the powder before making a divot.

“I usually do half milk, half creamer…”

Watching her pour in the half cup, she looked to him as she picked up the creamer.

“Show me?”

Grabbing her hands, he got in close. The crisp outdoorsy scent filled her nose, the slight smell of his pheromones a pleasant aroma she welcomed.

Y/n didn’t pull away as he poured in the liquid, and then a bit extra-

Her robe slipped from her shoulder, revealing her caramel skin.

The smell of jasmine danced through the blooming chocolate aroma.

“That should do it.” A faint hum answered him, her weight shifting back as he rested his chin on her head. In the quiet droning, their heartbeats drummed loudly before she picked up a spoon.

The soft scrape and tacking only made him realize just how close he was. His hand had found purchase on her hip, the other on the counter as he thumbed over her belt.

His first day on his new route, and he was getting cozy with one of the residents.

But what could he do?

She was so cute.

And she wanted him too.

He could tell by the fact that she’d pressed into him more, the round of her ass plush against him-

Taking the measuring cup, she put a bit of the warm milk in the powder before stirring, making sure it dissolved without making air pockets before repeating the process-

Her vigorous stirring brought Sett’s attention south, her ass jiggling as the robe slowly shifted.

By the time she finished, the beautiful umber of her nipple was teasing him again.

“There." Sett leaned into her neck, breathing deep as he tried to calm himself. Only, his senses were intoxicated by her lovely scent, making him crank down on her waist.

“Smells good. Thank you.” She didn’t move till he did, turning around as she rested against the counter. Watching as he took a sip, warmth greeted her as he smiled.

“It’s so smooth.”

“When you slowly add the milk and stir it quickly, it ends up like that. It’s the only way I make it.”

“You spoil all your delivery drivers like this?”

“You hug all you residents like this?”

Sett laughed as she made her way to the living room, fixing her rob as she smirked over her shoulder. Following after her, he to res in his previous position as she put down a coaster, placing the cup on top as she tucked her knees under.

“No, actually. You’re the first one I’ve ever taken up on being invited in.”

“Hm? That wasn’t what I asked you though.” Stretching her leg, Sett allowed Y/n into his lap, rubbing her calf as she leaned on her hand.

“I asked if you’d ‘hugged’ anyone else…” Smirking, he took his time sipping from the mug.

“If the answer is no, will you let me hug you?”

“I find it hard a guy like you hasn’t.”

“Why? Think that just cause I’m handsome I take every invitation for a bit of warmth?”

“You telling me I’m the first one you just couldn’t turn down?”

Taking another drink, he hummed as the chocolate settled just right.

“You got a lot of questions for someone who answered the door with a buttplug inside them." Sett caught Y/n’s leg before she could pull away.

“Let alone have a full conversation while it’s going…and even inviting me in while you finish. It’s not as quiet as you think.”

Pressing into her calf, he pulled her a bit closer, getting a good look at the flustered look on her face.

“Plus, with the lightshow it was giving off? I’d say you were planning this-“

“-I wasn’t…but you’d caught me at a bad time…and I didn’t want to wrestle with it and risk missing you.” She didn't meet his gaze as she chewed on her lip, his hand flitting higher as he gripped her knee.

“Getting redelivers around this time of year is a hassle.”

“So, do you spoil all your delivery drivers like this?” Rubbing at her thigh, he felt her jolt-

Her eyes finally met his, glazed over with curiosity and desire.

“No…but it’s the holidays, right? If a gift like you shows up, why wouldn’t I want to unwrap it?”

Thoughts of her climbing into his lap as she undid his shirt flitted through his mind. She’d be so tiny, her hands trying to work him inside as she straddled him.

She’d probably feel like heaven, warm, wet and so fucking tight around him-

“As good as that sounds, I’ve been working all day and-“

“-I know we just met…but you don’t…I like your scent. So let me decide if I want this or not.”

Of course…she did want it.

But he didn’t think she’d want this.

Growling out a sigh, his head fell back as a loud slurp rang through his ears. Her tongue wrapped around him as she suckled harder-

The groan he was holding in was forced up his throat as the plush underside of her tongue slowly massaged his head. Her robe was just didn't want to do it's job today, her full breasts peaking at him as those pretty eyes met his.

The wet chirapsia of her grip slowly eased the stress of his day up his shaft as she moaned over his length. One of her hands disappeared-

The dull drumbeat was heard again before her moans became awry, her hand slowly matching the rhythm of her mouth.

“Y/N…you didn’t…oh fuck…” As she swallowed around him, he sucked in a breath-

Her moaning pitched higher, her thrusts going deeper.

“Shit…I’m gonna cum-!” Gripping her hair hard, he tried pulling her off- her throat was so warm and tight as she drank him down, her tongue still snaked around him.

His husky whimper only egged her on, her eyes pleading as she pushed on his hand in her hair…

Begging him to push harder.

Sett tried to be gentle, but the pressure was not helping as she went faster, he went deeper, rougher till his hips started-

“Y/N-! Fuck!”

Her erratic moans were cut off as he thrusted hard into her throat, every inch of him being devoured by her plush lips.

Y/N milked every drop and moan from him as she swallowed around his length, her hand wringing him dry before lightly squeezing his heavy sac-

Slowly easing off, she suckled hard at his head, her shallow thrusts making his tense body tremble as his broad chest struggled to breathe.

“Y/N-! I already-!” The loud pop of release made him moan loud, kitten licks catching on his sensitive spots before she laid on his thigh, marveling at his manhood as she held it.

“Finished already? For someone so big I expected you to take a bit longer to cum. But you’re so sensitive, Settrigh.”

“Just had a long day at work…is all.” A happy little coo met her-…but Sett wasn’t going soft.

At all.

“Are you satisfied…?” Sett finally caught her gaze as she slowly became flustered again.

“Oh? You scared now?”

“No…” The lie made him smirk as Y/N pried her paws off of him, the thick slap on his abs only making her more anxious.

His phone went off, signaling his 15 minute warning as he silenced it.

“Don’t worry. I don’t have enough time to get you used to it. So do me a favor and get up here.”

He didn’t wait for her to reply as he pulled her up, kissing her before resting her on the arm of the couch as he pushed her ass in the air.

“I’m sorry I have to rush, Doll, but I got about 15 minutes to make you cum. So be good and don’t hold back, ok?”

He was raised to be a gentleman, and he never left a woman unsatisfied.

Ever.

So undoing the robe quickly, he lifted the lapel as he kissed her thighs, licking over her spilled arousal as he hummed.

“You taste so good. Fuck…” Kissing her clit, he sucked hard at the nub, making her jolt as she grabbed a fist full of his hair.

“I’d love to eat you out. But I just had that cocoa. And my hands are dirty. So I’ll be eating this instead…”

Pressing the plug in further, he pulled at it slowly, her taught hole unwavering as she bit down to keep it inside.

“Your ass is so fucking needy. Come on pretty girl. Let it go so I can put my tongue inside-“ The pop as she finally released it made her moan hard, Sett marveling at the length and girth-

“Y/N, I’m so fucking happy you answered the door with this in.” Truly, he never enjoyed work as much as he did today. He took a moment to take in the pretty hues of her asshole, the beautiful contrast of the pink and sepia as he massaged her soft ass made him hum with excitement.

Diving in deeper, he hugged her thighs closer as he pulled her up into him, making Y/N pull him in by his hair as she tried to steady herself.

His tongue was thick and long as he dove into her, the wet muscle undulating inside before he pulled out and spread her wider.

This was definitely moving up on the list of best Christmas' too.

Her hips moved on their own, Sett following as he allowed her to use his face anyway she saw fit. Her ass bounced and cut off his air, his hot pants tickling her flower-

Smacking her ass with both hands, he gripped her open before tongue fucking her hard and fast, making her still as she clawed at the couch.

Thanks to the toy, she was already close. And Sett being so good and hungry for her she was-

“Gonna-please-!” Just as quickly as the words left her, she tightened down on his tongue as she came. Keeping his tongue deep, he rode her through till she couldn't take it anymore-

He didn’t stop, rubbing his face in her warm slick. He knew he shouldn’t but he couldn’t waste his reward.

Especially when she tasted so fucking good.

Y/N allowed him to lick up every drop, even as her sensitive spots fluttered for reprieve and the tingle of the mint started tickling her till his kissed over his handprints, the reddening marks still stinging as he worshipped her.

“And you say I come quick?” He watched as her pretty holes winked happily at him.

He wanted to fill them so fucking badly.

“You…had a head start…” Ragged breaths left her as she tried to steady herself.

“Hmmm…how about next time we see who can do it faster?”

The alarm blared loudly, making him tisk as his fun ended. He had to return the truck before ending the day, and that meant he had to get in gear.

“Next time?”

“I don’t have work on the weekends. I’ll drop off more than head then. Deal?” Y/N smiled at he kissed her asshole, making her bite her lip as she looked back at him.

“Only if it comes with this special delivery.”

“For you? This is just the basics. I got something that'll keep on giving for naughty girls like you.”

2023 Copywritten and Owned by @opiumkitten

Do not claim or repost anywhere. If you see any works on any other site claimed by anyone else but @opiumkitten please report it to me and report it to the site. Thank you

#sett x reader #Sett smut #League of Legends smut #Sett x you #Sett League smut

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roseharpermaxwell · 5 months

Text

RWRB FirstPrince Tech-Based Fun Recs

Texting, Online Dating, Instagram, Wrong Number, etc. Click below for my favorites!

my husband by @coffeecatsme. T, 750 words. This isn’t the first time Alex roped Henry into a TikTok prank—there are videos of there with millions of views and enough compilations of Henry’s exasperated face that it’s become a meme.

Or, Alex ropes Henry into the latest TikTok couple prank.

Toe the Line by @orchidscript. G, 1k. Henry plays piano while Alex studies. Alex gets caught live-streaming. Henry has a response handy.

swipe right on me by coffeecatsme. T, 1.3k. Henry is scrolling through a profile—a redhead with freckles and a toothy grin that apparently made gym his personality. Alex almost wants to cry when Henry swipes right. Then, there’s the brunette he swipes left on, the Asian man with a dog he lingers before he swipes left as well, and then—

Alex drops his pen on the desk. That’s his profile.

you and i go from one kiss to getting married by vibrantsaturn. T, 1.3k.

Prince Henry @PrinceHenryUK I adore you so much, darling. Never change.

Alex Claremont-Diaz @theagcd that's cute i would literally go to federal prison for you

call it what you want by vibrantsaturn. T, 1.9k. Alex Claremont-Diaz @theagcd

guys it's 3am and i just found henry crying to taylor swift in the kitchen in the refrigerator light i love this motherfucker so much

Prince Henry @PrinceHenryUK

She makes me feel things.

Alex Claremont-Diaz @theagcd

BABY SHE MAKES ALL OF US FEEL THINGS

william @alltoounwell

THERE'S NO WAY HE JUST CALLED PRINCE HENRY MOTHERFUCKER LMAO

or,

Alex live tweeting his favourite FirstPrince moments. That's it. That's the fic.

let's be friends (so we can make out) by eclvpsed. NR, 2.2k.

Henry Fox ✓ @HenryFox Thanks for the cover feature @gaytimes. New issue out now. 19K Retweets 26.1K Quotes 118K Likes

alex claremont-diaz ✓ @theacd no guillotine could take away the head i need to give him 76.2K Retweets 55.6K Quotes 462K Likes

OR, actor!Alex Claremont-Diaz publicly thirst tweets about actor!Henry Fox because he is a delinquent and a plague in every universe.

watch before it ends by @indomitable-love. G, 2.4k. He should be working on this essay so he can spend more time with Henry this weekend. He really, really should be working on this essay. But.

But.

Henry is going live on Instagram.

Bold Statement by regularis_vas. T, 2.4k. Alex attends Milan Fashion Week with Nora and June. they arrive outside the Dior fashion show and let’s say… Alex turns heads.

Alex goes shirtless, Ellen nearly has a stroke and the internet goes wild. (So does Henry)

A Thousand Words by Thunder_Cakes. G, 2.5k. After that Han/Leia mural both their accounts go silent for a while. For months, actually. They’re both in therapy after Alex tried to post a selfie with June after election night and had a panic attack before he could hit “Share.” Suddenly the thought of sharing the details of his life and loved ones with the world is paralyzing. Wonder why.

or: Alex, Henry and what they choose to share of their life

spread (me on your) sheets by @everwitch-magiks. E, 2.6k. Alex creates a sex quiz to determine how well people’s bedroom preferences align with his own. After a night of too much tequila, he sends it to a lot of people.

One blond, blue-eyed respondent scores a hundred. - Also, companion fic Alex Claremont-Diaz’s Comprehensive Coitus Questionnaire by stutteringpeach (M, 2.6k).

come pick me up by @smc-27. T, 3k. ‘I’m here for you’

He can tell that the person will receive that as a text message as well as in the app, which is a relief because sometimes people like, order rides then absolutely pay no fucking attention to the app. It’s really annoying to have to wait forever for folks.

’Thank you. I’m going through a difficult time currently, so this means a lot.’

Alex stares at the message he received, frowning, and then another comes through.

‘Apologies. I’ve lost all my contacts. Who is this?’

Oh, Christ. This is going to be awkward as fuck.

’This is your Uber driver. I’m outside.’

OR, Alex is an Uber driver. Henry needs a ride the airport.

freddie by @coffeecatsme. T, 3.3k. “Didn’t know BuzzFeed was still relevant enough to do interviews.” He watches a grin spread on Henry’s face, and the glint in his eyes is enough to tell Alex that whatever it is, it’ll at least be fun. “What?” he asks, tugging Henry’s hands. “What is it?”

“They just might be relevant enough for this.” Henry’s palms close around Alex’s cheeks, brushing his curls away. “They asked whether we’d be interested in doing a puppy interview.”

Something To Be Proud Of by @cha-melodius. M, 3.3k. Henry stares at the carbon copy of the email in his inbox and wills time to go backwards. Just a few minutes, that’s all he needs. Enough time to go back and keep autocorrect from transforming whatever he’d typed after ‘he’ in his pronouns after his name into… that.

(Or, an unfortunate typo in an email, lots of dick jokes, and the joy of finding yourself at Pride.)

how would you feel if i told you i loved you? by @waterloolovers. NR, 3.3k. He lasts all of five minutes before he’s opening the link to start a message to Alex. ‘I have been in love with you since the moment I first saw you, but I’m too scared to tell you x’

twitter fox hunting by alyaasca. T, 3.5k. In the middle of another war with twitter bots, Alex notices that the comment 'my pussy in bio' comes from a weird account and goes to explore. There is, indeed, a pussy in bio. A furry one. A cat named Snowflake.

well we're not here to fuck ducks by @dumbpeachjuice. M, 3.7k. Henry is looking for someone to help him with his duck study. He makes quite a serious typo in his 'All Staff' email.

kiss me through the phone by violetbaudelairequagmire. M, 3.9k.

[Unknown Number] *Attached image: a shirtless, tanned torso, cropped at the top of shoulders, holding up two brightly patterned ties* which 1?

Excuse me?

or, Alex accidentally texts the wrong number and then just never stops.

i would stay forever by vibrantsaturn. T, 4.5k.

Henry Fox @HenryFox I can’t stand him [alex covered in cake, flipping off the camera]

Pez @likethesweets send help they’re flirting on the tl

Alex Claremont-Diaz @theagcd you know i love a london boy

Three times is a pattern by @clottedcreamfudge. T, 4.8k. “Hi,” an amused voice says on the other end of the line. “You’re through to Alex at L&G. Can I start by taking your name please?”

“Henry,” he admits, although the lure of a false name is calling to him like a siren song. “I’m – look, how long were you on the line just now?”

There’s a pause before the man answers. “I’m legally obligated to advise you that these calls are recorded for training and monitoring purposes. Is that enough of an answer?”

Henry just about manages not to swear. “Thank you. Unfortunately that is very clear.”

“Great. How can I help you today, Henry?”

He wonders if they offer euthanasia.

One Number Away by smc_27. T, 4.9k. “Hello?” a confused sounding voice on the other end of the line says.

It is not Pez. Pez doesn’t answer like that. With the fanfare of “my dearest Hazza” or “my sweet prince” or “you absolutely unforgivable scoundrel.” Only the first of these has any root in truth or accuracy.

Also, Pez is not American.

“I’m sorry. You’re not…Not Pez. Right. I’m sorry.”

OR: Henry dials a wrong number. Alex answers.

if evil, why so cute? by everwitch. E, 5.4k. Alex’s cat hates Alex, but loves Henry, the Bookstagram influencer who’s on vacation in Alex’s quiet seaside town. And while Alex is pretty salty about his grumpy cat’s inexplicable affection for a complete stranger, he must admit he can see the appeal; Henry is fucking gorgeous. It’s why Alex follows him on Instagram in the first place. It's just, Alex had never thought he’d be officially introduced to Henry by his own goddamn cat.

Or: Henry takes a two-week vacation to a seaside cabin with the intent to read a lot of books. Instead, he has a lot of sex.

Are You Screwing With Me? by @rmd-writes. E, 6.5k. Alex is only downloading Grindr because he’s curious. It doesn’t fucking mean anything, right? And when he answers a call for help from a very hot neighbour – who has no business having a shoulder-to-waist ratio like that – he’s just being friendly. It definitely doesn’t mean that he’s going to discover things about himself that he’d assumed were just passing curiosity.

Or, the Grindr meet-cute AU

I hope you don't mind that I put it down in words by knowledgeiscake. T, 7.2k. NBC News @nbcnews Journalist Alleges First Son Alexander Claremont-Diaz Cheated with Him on Vice President’s Granddaughter Nora Holleran

An epistolary fic blending the book and movie verses where ACD gets outed by Miguel before Philip and Martha's wedding even happens

(Door)Dash to the Heart by bleedingballroomfloor. M, 8.1k. The man looks up when Henry opens the door. "Henry?"

Henry clears his throat. "That's me," he manages.

"Cool," the man says. "You're making me hungry for breakfast with this order, man. Which is bad for me, because my breakfast is usually just coffee, and there's no way I can drink that this late."

"Uh," Henry says. He's pretty sure dashers don't talk this much during orders.

"Anyway," the man says, handing the bag of food to Henry, "enjoy your night."

Five times Henry gets late-night food from his insanely hot DoorDasher Alex, and one time they get food together at a normal time.

Bake It Til You Make It by OrchidScript. T, 8.4k. The chaos dead-ended in a linked TikTok video. By the looks of it, just a pasty-faced white dude in a tee shirt with a mug of… something. Why that would be interesting to anyone, Alex didn’t know and didn’t guess. He rolled his eyes and clicked on it anyway.

“Are you serious?” He asked, a second later dissolving into laughter. The video froze, a small banner appearing over a stagnant image reading 'Man Pleasing Appetizers 1971'.

Blondie was a Brit, and Alex wasn’t going to lay there and say that didn’t do something for him. He’d come to terms with his bisexuality enough to know that made the stranger hotter — even just the littlest bit. Especially when the video started rolling again

Alex falls down the rabbit hole of an H.J. Fox's Tiktok videos, falling a little bit in love with the terrors and treasures of cooking past he finds there, while recovering from a sinus infection. Back in class and confronted by H.J. Fox -- Henry Fox, to be exact -- in the lecture seat next to him, Alex does what any normal, well-adjusted adult would do: He suggests his recipes, just to watch Henry make them.

Will Alex get to watch his cake and eat it too, or will he get something sweeter than hoped for?

Amazed at How We Talk (Once, Successfully) by @sparklepocalypse. E, 8.7k. And, well. Fuck that guy. Alex isn’t about to rub elbows with people who can’t even stand to be in the same room as him.

Alex isn’t sulking when he sidles up to the bar and steals a man’s whisky. He also isn’t sulking when he obtains a second glass, this one neat. Or when he snags a large plate of canapés from one of the waitstaff and nonchalantly strolls out of the room.

(Movieverse; a riff on the trope that asks, What if Cakegate didn't happen?)

The importance of the 'recall email' feature by clottedcreamfudge. E, 9.6k. "What did that email even say?" Bea interrupts him again, and he glares at her.

"He was asking for an extension."

"Scandalous," she says drily, and he rolls his eyes, stealing the umbrella from her mocktail and wondering whether or not he could use it to end his misery.

"He... addressed me in a fairly comical way. It was quite rude, but apparently unintentional. We've all been there."

Pez nods solemnly. "I once called my tutor 'Carrie' when in fact her name was 'Carey'. Incredibly embarrassing. I couldn't look her in the eye for a week."

"Er, yes," Henry says haltingly. "Yes, just like that."

Well It Ain't Missionary by @everwitch-magiks. E, 11k. Alex Claremont-Diaz, a ballet dancer, is asked to list his ‘favorite positions.’ His hilariously suggestive answer goes viral, as does the unexpectedly flustered reaction to it by the Internet’s very own FoxySexEd. So obviously, Alex has to slide into Henry’s DMs. How could he resist? When a man that attractive wants your dick, only a fool would pass.

Henry is surprising. He wants to be pushed around, thrown for a loop, and he wants Alex to do it for him. But whenever Alex tries to soften his landing, Henry clams up like he’s been burned.

Alex can work around that, obviously. He's a dancer. If you're gonna toe the line just right, pointe shoes are a must.

Or: Alex and Henry fuck. Not in missionary.

whenever you're ready by @tedddylupin. E, 12k. “Pez. Please, will you stop tagging me in TikTok thirst traps?” Henry asked as he stepped into his friend’s car.

Pez lowered his Gucci sunglasses on his nose, looking at Henry without anything obscuring his vision and just laughed before pushing them back up with his middle finger. “Don’t fucking lie to me, I know you love them.”

Or: the one where Henry falls in lust with a TikToker making pottery and leaves drunken thirst comments

once, successfully by vibrantsaturn. M, 12k. Grindr, once (un)successfully, etc., etc.

misdial by rizcriz. T, 13k. His phone starts ringing as he’s wringing the coffee out of his shirt in the tiny coffee shop bathroom. He groans, sliding his finger over the answer button as he pulls his shirt up. “June,” he says, as politely and patiently as he can muster, “Now’s really not a great time.”

A distinctly male voice that does not belong to his sister, says, “Er.” He drops his chin and looks down at the counter, where a blond haired beauty is staring up at him from a facetime call. In the top corner, Alex can see what the man sees; himself, partially shirtless, standing over the phone, his abs dripping with coffee.

Alex has no idea who the fuck this man is.

Or, the facetime call that changed Alex's life.

Everyone Knows Who You Are by smc_27. T, 26k. Look, it’s not that he doesn’t feel influencers deserve representation or have complex management needs. It’s just any time he’s met with an influencer, he’s not only had next to nothing in common with them, but he’s also got no bloody clue what they’re talking about half the time. It’s a world far away from the one he typically resides in. He deals with authors and musicians and the occasional up and coming tennis player or gymnast or swimmer. His niche.

He walks into Conference Room B and sees Alex Claremont-Diaz sitting there in a smart black button down shirt, unbuttoned just enough to be devastating but not inappropriate. Henry’s boss is there, too.

When Alex sees Henry, he smiles, but also gives a discreet look up and down. Oh, god. No.

We’ll Invite Something In by smc_27. E, 26k. Alex is grinning a little too hard.

This is absolutely idiotic and pointless and fun.

The cover of Hello UK with a photo of him pulled out and a photo of His Royal Highness Prince Henry Fox-Mountchristen whatever the hell the rest of his names are (Alex knows; he being a dick) with the admittedly stupid but flattering headline which reads: His Royal Highness: He’s just like us and crushes on Pres ACD.

Ignite My Heart by @absoluteaudacitywrites. M, 30k. “So, I’m making you an account and we’re going to swipe right on some men and you can thank me later,” Pez says.

The 'We met on Tinder' AU

RWRB YouTube Interviews series by @happiness-of-the-pursuit. M, 31k. Hot Ones, etc

Hashtag Soulmates by everwitch. E, 44k. Alex is perfect and handsome, the golden boy, everybody’s secret crush. So there is absolutely no way that he is the reader who screeches in caps lock every time that Henry posts as much as a drabble. There’s no way. Except Alex just closed his browser fast as fucking lightning, but not before Henry had gotten a good glimpse of the page Alex had open: AO3. ‘Don't Stop Me Now’, Henry’s current wip. The one that Henry literally just updated.

Sweet Jesus. Could it really be?

I only tag an author once per post, but I'm still figuring out firstprince author handles. If you see one I may not know or find a broken link, please give me a heads up!

Master List of RWRB FirstPrince Recs

Master List of Recommendations

#firstprince #rwrb fic recs #rwrb #alex x henry #red white & royal blue

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avatar-anna · 2 years

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do y'all remember those fics where mc is a daughter of the president or sm and harry is her wildly toxic bodyguard?

can you imagine if he like wasn’t toxic and lowkey annoying?

Like he’s still broody and glares at anyone who gets too close and she’s girly and loves chatting to people so they're total opposites

But she's also a total sweetheart to everyone, including Harry. She buys him meals on campus, and clips for his hair because she notices it always gets in the way, and makes him friendship bracelets, which at first she thinks he won’t wear but then the next morning she sees it peek beneath his uniform. She can't help but smile because the big bad navy seal was really a big softie

He wasn't really a big softie, though, he just had a teeny tiny soft spot for her, and for some reason it keeps growing.

And he doesn't keep her from going on dates or having fun, he just goes with and watches her from afar, though if anyone even looks at her the wrong way he's kicking their asses. And not just because it’s his job but because he wants to keep her safe for other reasons he can't explain.

And when she's having friend problems, whether that be she's not making any or they only want to be her friend because she's rich, he cheers her up by taking her shopping or to her favorite restaurant off campus or letting her paint his nails pretty pastel colors while they watch her favorite movies.

They grow so comfortable around each other that they have this unspoken language, like they can kind of just look at each other and know what the other is thinking. It’s mostly her wiggling her eyebrows at Harry when people ogle him while they’re in line for coffee or in one of her classes or crossing the street or—well, you get the idea.

They have their routine unintentionally memorized—he does yoga in his room while she says her morning prayers/meditates and uses the bathroom for her lengthy skincare routine, after class, she sits and does homework in the gym lobby while he works out, which she'll occasionally join in on from time to time, and every first Friday of the month they have dinner with her parents, which is Harry’s one night off, though as time goes on he realizes he doesn't really want to be doing anything else but hang out with her.

And so maybe one night she's studying for a test. She's wearing his crew neck because it was the first thing she found in the clean laundry pile and all hers had coffee or paint stains on them because she'd recently discovered that painting was her new favorite pastime. She's chewing on her pen and her glasses are slipping down her nose. Harry's trying to do a crossword puzzle in his copy of the day’s newspaper—something she teases him relentlessly for because, “that’s something my grandpa does”—but he can't focus.

She's attractive, obviously, but he's always been aware of that. She wears cute patterns and bandanas in her hair and puts kitschy earrings on before school. Her nose scrunches in the cutest way when she smiles and sometimes she snorts when she laughs. He was pretty sure she had a tattoo, but she swore up and down she didn't.

He knew all that before, but he's suddenly punched in the face by all her quirks, and he has no idea why.

“What?” she eventually asks him when she notices his blank stare in her direction. She knows he would never be into someone like her. He worked for her mother for one, a very important ambassador or congresswoman or something like that, but there's also the age difference. Harry isn't technically that much older than her, but the fact that she's in school and he isn't, and he's well...he's Harry.

He’s tall and strong and probably knew how to kill someone a number of ways and she wore panda bear themed pajamas to bed every night. Them being together was laughable.

And yet, neither of them looks away, almost like they can't. He's noticing she has a single freckle by her left eye and she feels like she can name the exact shade of his eyes. It feels like a cosmic moment, like everything is falling into place. But then her phone rings and the moment is over, neither of them eager to acknowledge whatever the hell just happened.

So both of them shake it off and go back to their normal business, only for the next few weeks they're extra careful around each other.

She thought she saw little hints and signs that Harry was into her, but he goes back to being grumpy and broody like when they first met, so she leaves it alone.

Maybe she even gets a boyfriend. Or at least starts seeing people. The first time she tells him why she's all dressed up, Harry wants to lock her in her room and, preferably with him in it, and not let her go. But that's a foolish thought, so he settles for a long lecture about the dangers of online dating that nearly makes her late for her date.

He can't do anything about it, so he just silently stews, praying that none of them stick even though he shouldn't.

But they don't, though she never tells Harry why. She can't tell him that none of them hold a candle to him, so she usually just shrugs and says, “he’s not the one.”

Except for the one time where a boy couldn't take no for an answer to the point where she hits her panic button, to which Harry replies to by storming into the back of the large house party and practically tossing him across the yard. He takes her home that night and makes her dinner, staying up with her to make sure she feels safe.

And when she finally falls asleep, she's cuddled up to him, her cheek squished from where it's pressed against his chest.

Harry looks down at where she's fast asleep, marveling at the mere contrast of their clothes. On paper, they absolutely shouldn't work, but somehow this person wiggles her way into his heart, melting his icy exterior. He knows he can't do anything about it, but it’s foolish to deny the truth at this point.

He's so gone for this girl, this girl who buys flowers for her dates and cries when she watches nature documentaries with him because, “The circle of life is necessary but so brutal.” This girl who took the time to sew his shirt up when he ripped a hole in it and offers to tie his shoes when they come undone. This girl who is destined to follow in her mother's footsteps one day but actually just wants to run an animal shelter.

She's special, there's no doubt about it. And if Harry can't be with her, then he'll do everything in his power to protect her from anything and anyone who tries to hurt her.

#harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing

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therealdisneyfan2319 · 1 year

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One Special Night | Wanda Maximoff

Summary: A blizzard leaves you and a stranger stranded on Thanksgiving

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Male Reader

Warnings: Language, angsty fluff? fluffy angst?, death

Word Count: 6.9K

Masterlist

A/N: This was requested by @joewatt111 on Wattpad. It’s based on the movie One Special Night starring Julie Andrews and James Garner (it’s one of my favorite Christmas movies!)

So sorry for the delay in getting requests out. I’ve been struggling through some writer’s block ever since I finished writing “Can’t Help Falling In Love.” But I’m working through it and I’m hoping to get caught up before the holidays.

Thanksgiving, 5:03 PM

“Any plans for Thanksgiving, Doc?”

“Oh you know, the usual,” you replied. “Get togethers with family you don’t really like, avoiding conversations that’ll spark arguments, and eating too many casseroles of who knows what.” You didn’t really like Thanksgiving. It held too many memories you’d rather forget: the years of being shuffled from house to house to spend time with your divorced parents, the subsequent arguments that you’d hear between your drunk father and sobbing mother as you buried your head under the covers in a feeble attempt to drown out the screams, endless holiday dinners ruined by shifts in the emergency room treating deep fryer burn victims, people slicing their hands while attempting to carve a turkey, and sprains, bumps, and bruises from people slipping on ice or grease, and, of course, the one Thanksgiving where your fiance dumped you before the heavy cream could even be whipped. Needless to say it wasn’t your favorite day of the year. So instead of subjecting yourself to the horrors of dinner conversation, you volunteered to work the holiday, collect the overtime, and treat yourself to your favorite Chinese takeout and watch whatever football game was on. Most people didn’t understand your disinterest in the holiday, so you fibbed and said you had plans. It’s not like anyone would figure it out anyways.

“But that’s the fun isn’t it? It only comes around once a year,” the tech posed.

You shook your head as you pulled on your coat. “Yeah, fun. There are lots of things you can classify as fun. I’m not sure this is one of them.” Slamming your locker shut, you grabbed your bag and headed for the door of the locker room.

“I don’t think it’s that bad,” the younger man responded. “But anyways, get home safe, Doc. The news was saying that we’re supposed to get one heluva of a storm today.”

“All the more reason to not go out,” you winked. You pushed the door open and trudged down the hall, backpack slung over one shoulder as you ambled down the corridor and towards the main entrance of the hospital.

“Dr. L/N?” you heard a voice call from behind you as you passed the emergency room’s front desk. You turned around to see who the voice belonged to and found Janelle, your intern, running towards you.

“Yeah?” you answered, cocking an eyebrow.

“You forgot to sign off on the papers for Mrs. Levin.” She handed you a clipboard with a pen clipped to it. You took it from her, scribbled on the appropriate line, and handed it back to her without much thought to what you were doing. “Thank you, doctor. And Happy Thanksgiving.”

“Yeah, same,” you responded. All you could think about after your ten hour shift was your steamed dumplings and lo mein, not some last-minute paperwork. But as you passed by the desk again something out of the corner of your eye caught your attention.

“You’ve got to be kidding me, right? What do you mean there’s no tow trucks available?” You saw a fiery redhead who was red in more than just her hair. She was leaning up against the front desk, yelling into her cellphone, a backpack sitting by her side. You watched as she rolled her eyes at whatever response she was receiving. “Well fine, I’ll just call a cab if you-what do you MEAN they aren’t running the cabs? How the hell am I supposed to get home?”

You eavesdropped on her conversation as you walked by, trying to make sure it wasn’t apparent that you were listening in.“Please, isn’t there something you can do? I’ve been at the hospital with my father all day and I need to get home.” You could hear the desperation in her voice as she pleaded with the voice on the other end. You felt bad for the stranger, but it wasn’t your responsibility to make sure she got home. You had no obligation whatsoever to be her taxi driver. But as you neared the door you felt a nagging in the pit of your stomach telling you to do something.

No, don’t get involved, you told yourself. You don’t want to do this. But you felt yourself turning around before you got to the front door, your legs carrying yourself over to the frustrated woman who had been placed on hold by the towing company.

“Excuse me,” you interrupted. She ignored you as she continued to tap her foot impatiently as she waited to be taken off hold. “Excuse me,” you tried again. Still nothing. She looked even more impatient as you attempted to interrupt her again. “Hey!” you yelled a tad more aggressively than you’d anticipated. She shot daggers through you as she glared into your soul.

“What?” she snapped, pulling the phone down to her chest.

“Do you want a ride?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Do you want a ride home? Look, the weather is shitty, it’ll be difficult trying to find a cab, and good luck trying to find an uber on Thanksgiving. I’ve got a truck with all wheel drive, I can get you back to wherever you need to be.” You had no idea why you were offering this complete stranger a ride back to wherever she came from. Maybe it was the spirit of the season warming your heart. “It’s okay, I’m a doctor here,” you added quickly, flashing your ID.

She looked at you with a combination of relief and apprehension. You were a complete stranger offering her a ride in the middle of a snowstorm out of the emergency room. “You’re offering me a ride?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

“Wow, okay then,” she said, hanging up her phone and grabbing her backpack. She followed you down the hallway. You could see the blizzard raging outside illuminated by the parking lot floodlights. It was going to be a challenge to drive in these conditions.

“It’s that one,” you said, pointing to the red truck parked down near the end of the lot. You zipped your coat up a little higher as you struggled across the uncleared sidewalk, grabbing your keys and unlocking the door so the two of you could hop right in.You pulled off your snow covered hat as soon as you sat in the driver’s seat after cleaning off the front of your car. The redhead was on her phone furiously texting someone. “Where do you live?” you asked.

“159 Collard Road,” she replied without looking up from her phone. You groaned to yourself; it was the completely opposite side of town, basically out in the sticks. It took you twenty minutes to drive out that way in good weather so you knew you were in for a long drive.

“Alright. Let me know when we’re getting close.” You started the car and looked over your shoulder as you carefully backed out of your spot. The radio kicked on, your favorite local Y/F/M station coming on as you turned left out of the parking lot.

“Y/F/M?” she scoffed, shooting you a look.“Is there a problem?” you asked. You should’ve left her at the hospital.“No, it’s your car, you control the radio.”“And what do you prefer?” You couldn’t hide the sarcasm oozing from your voice.

“Y/L/F/M.” You nodded, gripping onto the wheel tightly. There was no way in hell you were going to change the station for her, so you decided to turn it off. The two of you sat in silence as you continued to drive. The roads were absolutely awful. You were used to driving in nasty weather, but this was particularly bad. It was night, too, and you were having to drive without using your brights because of the reflection of the snow.

Halfway there, you thought to yourself. Just a little while longer and I can go back home. Why am I even doing this in the first pl-

Your internal musings were interrupted by a patch of black ice. The truck fishtailed into the oncoming lane as you pumped the brakes. Hard as you tried to correct the slippage, you ended up overcorrecting and swerving the other way right into a snowbank on the side of the road.

5:48 PM

“What the hell was that?” the redhead shouted. You threw the truck in reverse and tried to back out of the bank but it was no use: you were stuck.

“Black ice. We’re stuck. Damn it!” You slammed on the steering wheel, angry at yourself for getting distracted. It was not a good situation: you were stranded in a snowbank in the middle of nowhere on Thanksgiving night in a blizzard with a complete stranger who was getting angrier at you by the second.

“Great,” she sighed, pulling out her phone. “No service.” She slammed the phone on her bag, visibly frustrated at the situation as well.

You pulled out your phone, hoping you might be able to call your insurance company to come tow you out. Much to your dismay you didn’t have a signal. “Damnit,” you whispered.

“I literally just said there’s no service,” she huffed.

“Alright then, do you have a better idea? Because that’s all I’ve got.”

“I’m going to go look for help. There’s a gas station about two miles away from here.” She pushed the door open into the bank, the wind howling against the door as snow blew inside.

“Are you kidding? You’ll freeze to death out there. It’s pitch black, we are in the middle of nowhere, and you want to go outside?!” She must be crazy, that’s the only explanation you could think of.

“And what’s the alternative then, stay here all night?” she snapped back. “Yes! We stay here, run the heater periodically, and wait until either the snow stops or it’s daylight and then we should be able to either get out of here or get someone to come tow us out!” You were exasperated. Sure, spending all night cooped up in your truck with this crazy woman wasn’t the way you wanted to spend Thanksgiving, but it was better than becoming a human popsicle on this stretch of country backroad.

“Right, mmhmm, good idea there, doc. You stay here and do that, I’ll go and look for a way home.” She jumped down from the truck, sinking into the deep drift. You watched as she pulled one leg from the drift, trudging her way back to the road. You groaned, frustrated at the fact this woman was about to wander about in the middle of the night and that you were probably going to have to follow her against your better judgment.

“Hey wait! Wait a minute!” You unbuckled your seatbelt, sighing as you opened the door. Wind whipped against your face as snow fell through the air. It was an absolutely miserable night made worse by your miserable disposition. The stranger looked back at you. Her small figure looked even smaller as she hugged her coat against her chest. The snow was falling hard enough that it was difficult to make her out against her phone’s flashlight.

“Are you coming?” she shouted.“Only because I’m not going to let you wander around the woods in the middle of the night.” The wind was rushing against your ears, freezing your words as they left your mouth.

“I don’t need you to protect me if that’s what you’re thinking.” The look on her face, from what you could see, was one of disgust.

“Oh, I don’t care about protecting you. I’m only here to-” Before you could get your next thought out you found yourself flat on your face in the snow. The cold seeped through your clothes and chilled you to the bone. As you pushed yourself up and sputtered the powder out of your mouth, you heard a slight giggle coming from ahead of you. You looked up to see the redhead turning away from you. “Is there something you want to share with the rest of the class?” the sarcasm dripped from your mouth.

“Not at the moment, but I’ll let you know.” Her hidden glance revealed a smirk forming over her lips as she pressed on, not letting you see how amused she was by your current predicament.

Groaning, you attempted to jog through the knee deep drift to keep up with her. She had made her way over to the side of the road and was walking in what she hoped was the direction of the gas station. You fought the blizzard every step of the way, trudging through molasses as your eyes strained to follow the dim light. Your frustration built in your chest, causing one singular thought to race through your mind:

If we make it through this alive, I’m going to kill her.

6:11 PM

“Look, a mailbox!” The flashlight illuminated a snow-covered mailbox a few feet ahead of you.

“Let’s go ask for help.” The storm had intensified dramatically in the short time the two of you had been walking. The biting wind nipped at your red hands and ears. In that time you made a mental note to never leave home without a hat and gloves again. You scoured the area in front of you for a sign of a driveway, but any indication of one had been blocked by thigh-high drifts.

You watched the redhead struggle to carve a path through the snow only to befall the same fate you had earlier when you left your truck. As she face-planted into the mound in front of her, you let out a small chuckle. It was a sight to see: she flapped and struggled her way up like a goose in a most ungraceful fashion. A part of you thought you should make sure she was okay. “Are you okay?” you asked as you managed to push yourself over the drift.

“I’m perfectly capable, thank you.” She flipped her scarf around her neck as she pushed herself to her feet in the ankle deep snow that covered the long driveway. “I’m sure you are,” you mumbled under your breath. You followed her straight into the snow-covered woods, spotting what looked to be a small cabin nestled beneath a group of tall pine trees.

“It doesn’t look like anyone’s home,” she said.

“I’ll go take a look,” you shrugged as you eyed the enclosed porch.

“Wait!” You turned to see the woman clutching at her chest. “My necklace! I have to go back and find it!”

“You can come back after the spring thaw and look for it then. There’s no way you’ll find it now.” You couldn’t believe the ignorance of this woman…first getting out of your warm truck and now this. You turned back, reaching for the rickety screen door.

“It was a gift from my dad. I have to have it!” She walked like a goblin, crouching in an unflattering position as she combed the ground for a glimmer of the silver chain.

“Well I’m sure he can buy you another one. Come on, I’m going inside.”

She stood quickly, tilting her head as she stared at you angrily. “He’s dying,” she stated matter-of-factly. You fidgeted in place as she stared at you, eyes boring into your soul as she huffed by. Her frustration played out as she rattled the knob on the front door, slamming it down in dismay as it refused to open. “It’s locked.”

Your eyes wandered around the small room, scanning the dark corners for something to break you in. A pile of bricks caught your attention. You picked one up, feeling its cold weight in your hand as you turned toward the door. “Stand back,” you told her, pushing her back with your free arm.

“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me. You’re going to-”

Crash! The window cracked as glass tinkled to the floor. You reached in, feeling your way down the door to unlock it and push it open. “After you,” you bowed mockingly, extending your hand. She rolled her eyes, pulling off her hat as she stepped inside the dark foyer.

You felt up the wall for a light switch, flicking it on but the room remained dark. “Power’s out. Storm must’ve knocked it out.” A sharp crack and a small flicker of light lit up the table in front of you. The stranger found a pair of candles on the sole kitchen table. Her face was illuminated by their dim glow as you watched her emerald eyes take in her new surroundings.

“There’s a fireplace right there. I think I saw a pile of logs outside the cabin. Why don’t you go get some and I’ll look for more candles?” She rubbed her hands together over the small flame.

You managed to find some snow covered cords stacked against the side of the cabin and subsequently slipped on the ice covering the gravel drive. Rubbing the bruise on your hip, you regathered the logs and cursed the woman inside as you stumbled through the door. You were hit with an immediate warmth upon entering, the smell of smoke and crackling of fire creating an indelible sense of home. The redhead was crouched by the fireplace, a metal poker in her hand. You cocked your head at her quizzically. “How’d you get that started?” Grinning smugly she reached to the side to reveal a cabinet loaded with logs. “A heads up would’ve been nice.”

“What, and deny you the chance to prove your manhood?”

“Touché,” you nodded as you set the wood down. As you removed your sopping outerwear, you took a moment to take in your new surroundings. The cabin was small, only one main room. On one side was a small kitchen complete with an oven, sink, and refrigerator. A round table sat in the middle of the room, a chair placed on opposite sides. There was a sofa directly in front of the fireplace. Two end tables sat on either side, and a coffee table sat directly in front. There were two doors on either side of the fireplace: one led to the bedroom and the other to the bathroom. A chill ran down your spine as you blew into your hands. “Alrighty then, how about I try to find something to eat? You should go see if they have any clothes for you to borrow, you’re absolutely soaked. Maybe jump in the shower, too”

“Right, a cold shower and a stranger’s clothes. That’s the way I want to spend my Thanksgiving,” she rolled her eyes at your remark.

“It’s gas, the water should be hot.”

“Really?” Her eyes widened at the revelation.

“Mmhmm,” you nodded. “And if we’re going to be sleeping together tonight, I should probably introduce myself. I’m Y/N.”

“Wanda,” she replied as she opened the bathroom door.

“Did you ever watch the movie Psycho?” you posed.

“Yeah. Why?”

“No reason,” you grinned. The door slammed shut.

7:20 PM

“Hi,” a quiet voice said. It was Wanda. She was wrapped in a fluffy red plaid housecoat, her damp hair hanging limply behind her. “What’d you find?”

“You’re in luck. They happened to have half a box of spaghetti and a jar of sauce in the cupboard.” You weren’t a cook by any stretch of the imagination, but pasta was manageable. “And there’s a bottle of wine on the table.”

“And you managed to set the table. I’m impressed,” she joked as she observed your feeble attempt at making the sparse setting look nice.

“I am a man of many talents.” You carried the pot over to your table, spooning some pasta onto both of your plates as Wanda sat down.

“Well, it is edible. Barely,” Wanda informed you as she took a bite. “Please tell me you have someone else who cooks for you because otherwise this is just sad.”

“I eat out a lot,” you laughed. “That’s the whole reason I became a doctor…it’s easier than trying to learn how to cook.”

“So you work in the emergency room then?” She took a sip of the red wine she had poured for the two of you. You nodded, your mouth full of the overcooked spaghetti.

“Yeah. It’s crazy, but you’re always on your toes. That’s why I like it. You’ll never have the same day twice. There’s always something new, you’re constantly calling on everything you learned in med school, and I like the adrenaline rush.” She looked at you curiously. You couldn’t tell what exactly she was thinking or what she wanted to say.

“I don’t ever want to spend time in an emergency room again. I don’t know how you can do it day after day.” Her voice softened as her head dropped down to stare at the pasta she spun on her fork.

“You were in there with your dad, right?”

She sniffled, rubbing her nose with the sleeve of her housecoat. “Yeah. He’s got cancer. Stage four. I’ve been taking care of him for the last few weeks. But today he had a stroke. So they admitted him and told me that he doesn’t have much time left. The doctor said she’d be surprised if he made it through tonight. So I was trying to get home to get him the picture of our family that sits by his bed, but my car wouldn’t start. I tried to get a tow truck but all of them were busy with the storm.”

You felt your heart sink. “I’m sorry,” you murmured.

“I just don’t know what I’m going to do when he goes,” she sighed. “He’s all I have left. My mom died ten years ago and my brother was killed in a car accident last spring. I quit my job and gave up my apartment to move out here to take care of him. When he’s gone…” Her eyes filled with tears as she trailed off, staring across the room to the window on the other side. “Sorry, I don’t even know why I’m telling you any of this.” She shook her head, immediately redirecting her attention to her dinner.

“No, it’s okay. It sucks, cancer sucks, and I’m sorry that this is what you’re dealing with right now. I see it every day and it doesn’t get easier, believe me.” Images of your worst trauma cases flashed through your mind. You physically recoiled at the gruesome scenes. “Look, I promise that once we get out of this mess I will get you back to that hospital as fast as I can so you can be with him, okay? And I’ll make sure to come up and check in on him, too.” You reached out to grab her hand. Her skin was soft and warm. You felt your heart skip a beat as you grasped it, which surprised you. A soft smile spread over her face as she felt your hand in hers.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

10:43 PM

“And that is check, I believe,” Wanda boasted as her rook took your knight.

“Again?! Are you kidding me? What the hell, Wanda?” You threw your hands in the air. This was the fourth game she was beating you at. You weren’t a chess champion by any means but Wanda was on a completely different level.

“It’s just check, Y/N. You can still win,” she giggled.

“Yeah, right. Why don’t I just hand the game to you now and we’ll call it a night?”

“Oh you’re no fun,” she pouted, putting away the pieces. After dinner, she had found the cabinet where the owners hid their collection of board games. The two of you had finally settled on chess. It was one of her favorite games. Her father had taught it to her and her brother, who you learned was named Pietro, when they were kids. She had played on the chess team in high school, which you thought made her a bigger nerd than you and your middle school quiz bowl team.

“I know, I’m a party pooper.” You stood up and yawned, stretching your stiff limbs. “I don’t know about you but I’m ready for bed. You go take the bedroom, I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“No, I’ll take the couch, it’s okay.”

“Wanda, I’m a doctor. I’ve slept on countless gurneys and on-call beds before. I’m used to it. Take the bed.” She didn’t move, curling herself into a tighter ball where she sat instead.

“Fine. Give me a minute. I’m just resting my eyes,” she mumbled. She shut her eyes as she crossed her arms and snuggled into the back of the couch. You chuckled, pulling the blanket off your lap and placing it over her. As she drifted off to sleep her light snores echoed through the small room. You positioned yourself on the other side of the couch, watching as her breathing slowed and her face relaxed. Hopefully sleep would be kind to her, relieving her of the horrible reality she would face in the waking world.

Friday, 7:03 AM

You woke to the peculiar sensation of being squeezed. Looking down, you noticed that Wanda had made her way to your side of the couch and had wrapped her arms around your chest, resting her head in the crook of your shoulder. The sight startled you at first, but you quickly found it endearing. You were holding her with one arm wrapped around her. Your other hand was running your fingers through her soft red hair, teasing each strand as you traversed its length. Her eyes fluttered open at the tickling sensation, which quickly turned into a look of horror.

“Oh god I’m sorry.” She recoiled as soon as she released the compromising position she was in.

“It’s okay, I don’t mind,” you reassured. The truth was you really hadn’t minded it. You liked the feeling of comfort her body provided as it wrapped around yours.

She sat back on her knees, looking out the window. “Looks like the storm stopped,” she noted as the sun streaked through the window.

“I’ll try calling a tow truck again, see if they can get us out of here.”

An hour later the two of you were in the cab of a tow truck headed back into town. You’d left a note and some money for the owners to explain why you broke into their apartment and ate their food. Once you got your truck back, you dropped Wanda off at the hospital before driving back to your apartment to grab a quick shower before heading back for your own shift. While holidays were normally busy in the ER, you were hoping that today might be relatively quiet. It wasn’t so much about not having to rush from bay to bay dealing with patients as much as it was being able to slip away to check on Wanda and her father. Your palms began to sweat as you gripped the steering wheel, pulse quickening at the thought of seeing Wanda later in the day. You shook your head to clear the images of the redhead from your mind. After all, you were only concerned about how her father was doing, right?

6:22 PM

You collapsed onto a gurney in the trauma bay, groaning as you rubbed your throbbing temples. All you wanted was a beer and the chance to rip your shoes off. You hadn’t stopped moving since you stepped foot in the hospital almost ten hours ago, even forgoing your lunch to help the ortho attending reset an elderly lady’s dislocated hip. It was also the first time all day you’d allowed your mind to wander back onto the woman who was in the forefront of your mind. Glancing at your phone, you panicked slightly as you jumped off the gurney and raced to the elevator. Your heart was pounding with anticipation as you pushed the down arrow. You bounced your knee up and down in the agonizing moments it took for the elevator to pull up to your floor. When the doors opened you rushed in and pressed the button for the ICU.

“Come on, come on,” you muttered, slamming the button as fast as you could. The doors didn’t close quick enough for your liking, and you spent the entire ride pacing around. You were on a tear down the hall as soon as the doors opened, vaguely remembering a conversation you and Wanda had earlier in the day about the room her father was in. You mumbled numbers to yourself as you jogged down the hall until you found the right one a few yards ahead of you. Slowing down to a walk, you tugged on the lapels of your white coat and attempted to smooth out your scrubs before you turned into the room.

It was empty.

Your heart sank as you realized what it meant: he was gone and Wanda was all alone. The cold emptiness of the room enveloped you, creeping into your very soul as an overwhelming sense of sorrow invaded your heart. You felt a lump in your throat as you thought of her alone, trying to pick up the pieces of her life. You threw your hands in your pocket, shuffling out of the room as you wondered how helpless she must feel. All you wanted to do was find her and hold her until she realized that you weren’t going to let her world end. But you had no idea where she even was. Besides, why would she want to see you at the worst moment of her life?

Sunday, 11:19 AM

Taking a bite out of your bagel, you thumbed through the pages of the local Sunday Times. You scoured the headlines for the one you were looking for: obituaries. It had already been two days since Wanda’s father had passed, more than enough time to write a simple summary of his life. More than once you’d wondered whether or not you should drive to her father’s house to check in on her, but your nerves got the better of you. As you sipped your coffee, your eyes settled on the word you’d been looking for: Wanda. You quickly skimmed the obit, looking for the information you wanted.

There will be no services as per the deceased’s wishes.

You sighed, throwing the paper down. The funeral would’ve been the perfect excuse for you to check in on her. Your stomach churned with feeling that you should’ve been there for her that day. You paced around the room furiously, mind racing a thousand miles a minute with different ideas, excuses to see her and make sure she was okay. But the more you thought about it, the more you realized that the only real option you had was to go and see her.

2:49 PM

Carrying a bouquet of flowers in one hand and a bag of Chinese takeout in the other, you shifted your weight from one foot to the other as you stood outside the front door. The way your stomach twisted up in knots surprised you. You could stay completely calm in the most stressful of work situations, but the thought of facing her again made you want to run away screaming. The deep breaths you took did little to quell the churning feeling growing inside you as you raised a shaky hand to knock on the frosted window.

The moments between you rapping on the door and Wanda answering felt like eternity. Time came to a screeching halt as your mind raced through different what if scenarios. The bag started to slip from your grasp as your palms moistened with anticipation. It was far too late to turn around by now.

The door opened slightly at first, a single eye peering out from the crack. You gave a halfhearted smile as you saw the outline of Wanda’s face in the dark room. Her eye widened as she realized it was you, opening the door fully as she stared at you in amazement.

“Y/N?” she asked incredulously. In a moment her world turned upside down again. A small part of her hoped that you would show up at the hospital before her father died and she was hurt when you hadn’t.

“Hey,” you said weakly. When she opened the door fully you saw how much of a mess she was. Her eyes were sunken and hollow, highlighted by deep bags. Her hair was falling out of a messy bun on top of her head. She wore pajama pants and an oversized hoodie, both of them wrinkled by hours spent curled on the couch. “I, umm…can I come in?” She nodded as she stepped back to give you space to come in.

Wanda shut the door behind you as you stepped in, slipping off your sneakers and placing them off to the side. The house was chaotic. Boxes and garbage bags were piled all around, the remnants of a life complete tossed carelessly inside. Unopened cards were scattered around the table between drying bouquets of flowers. Dirty pots and plates were stacked high in the sink while a half-empty pizza box sat on the counter.

“What are you doing here?” Her meek voice broke your train of thought. The redhead stood before you, looking like a shell of the woman she was three days ago.

“Well, for starters I brought Chinese food to make up for that pitiful Thanksgiving dinner I made the other night,” you stated while holding up the bag. “Orange chicken, steamed dumplings, and veggie fried rice.” Wanda stared at the bag. You couldn’t read the vacant expression on her face that made her very soul look hollow. “And I wanted to express my condolences about your father.”

A spark brightened her eyes as you handed her the flowers. She grabbed them from your outstretched hands, holding them tenderly and examining them carefully as if she’d never seen something so beautiful before. She inhaled deeply, basking in their sweet scent as she pulled them to her chest. “Thank you,” she murmured. She didn’t make eye contact with you as she spoke.

“Do you want to eat?” She nodded. “I’ll go grab some bowls.”

“No it’s okay. I’ve got it. Why don’t you go sit in the living room?”

You wandered your way through the darkened house, the living room illuminated by the glow of the TV. You cleared some papers from the couch, stacking them off on the coffee table as Wanda rejoined you with two bowls and two sodas. The two of you sat in silence as you watched her scoop some rice into her bowl with her chopsticks. Her eyes were glued to the television as you ate. You sensed she wanted to avoid conversation as the energy of the room shifted. She became cold and withdrawn, oblivious to the world outside of the flickering screen. But you didn’t want to interrupt her. If she wanted to drown her grief in old sitcom reruns then so be it.

You watched The Dick Van Dyke Show for a couple hours, her occasionally chuckles interrupting the program. As much as you wanted to talk you didn’t mind just existing in the same room as her. It was comfortable and familiar. But after five or so episodes, Wanda was the one to break the silence.

“I hoped you’d come up to see him before he died.”

You sat in stunned silence, unsure of how to respond to her confession. Friday night was still eating away at you, the fact you hadn’t been able to make it up to the ICU in time.

“I tried to. I saw patients for over ten hours straight that day and I didn’t have the chance to sneak away all day” It felt like a pathetic excuse, but it was the truth.

“I understand.” She turned her head away from you slightly. It did nothing to hide her sniffles as she started to cry again.

“But the first chance I had I ran up there as fast as I could. He was already gone by then.”

Wanda turned back to you, her face streaked with fresh tears. “I waited all day for you, you know? I kept hoping and praying that maybe, just maybe, you’d show up. It was stupid of me to think this random guy I just met would show up for my dying dad. Because you didn’t show up so now on top of being sad that my dad just died I’m upset that a complete stranger wasn’t there, too.” She wiped her face with her sleeve as she choked out her words through strangled sobs.

“Oh Wanda,” you sighed. “Come here.” You opened your arms and reached out for her. She crawled into your chest as you pulled her close, her chest heaving as she sobbed into your shirt. You wrapped your arms tightly around her. Her cries were muffled against your body. You traced your fingers up and down her back as you held her, rocking ever so slightly back and forth in an attempt to soothe her. All you wanted to do was take her pain away. It was odd how much you found yourself caring for this stranger. In that moment she was the most important thing in your life. That terrified you. “I’ve got you,” you soothed, drawing your hand up her back and pulling her head closer to her chest, as if your enveloping touch would heal her wounds.

“I miss him so much,” she gasped between sobs.

“I know.”

“They’re all gone. My entire family is gone and I don’t know what to do,” she sniffled. She was living her own worst nightmare, completely alone for the rest of her life. No parents to bring a boyfriend home to, no brother to help take care of aging parents, no core group to celebrate the small things with. She had friends, of course, but that didn’t erase the trauma of losing one’s entire family at such a young age.

You wracked your brain trying to find the right thing to say. Wanda was deep in the throes of grief and you wanted to help steady her. But what could you say? You’d never lost a parent before. “Wanda I- '' You swallowed the lump in your throat, leaning your head down to rest next to hers. The world stood still as your heart pounded in your ears. “You’re not alone,” you whispered in her ear.

She pulled away from you, her bloodshot eyes widening as she studied your face. They darted back and forth searching for anything that might reveal the hidden secret of your words.

“The truth is I don’t want to leave,” you sighed. “I can’t stop thinking about Friday and I’m so, so sorry I wasn’t there for you. I wanted to come see you sooner, but I didn’t think you’d want to see me.”

“Why would you think I wouldn’t want to see you?” She grabbed your face and pulled you in until your lips were millimeters apart.

“I don’t know. I guess I kept trying to tell myself that you didn’t want to see me so I could convince myself that I didn’t want to see you,” you admitted. It was hard to swallow your pride in front of her, but you couldn’t deny how she’d absolutely captivated you in the short time you’d known each other. “I’m sorry, Wanda. I should’ve been there sooner.”

No sooner had the words left your mouth did Wanda close the gap between the two of you. The tender brush of her lips against yours was absolute bliss. They were soft as you kissed her back, losing yourself in the remnants of her cherry chapstick. You felt your heart pounding as her hands started to tangle in your hair, causing you to smile against her lips. You felt her smile back when you hugged her closer to you.

She was the one to break away from the kiss first. You watched as her face lit up for the first time all day. All of her worries had seemingly melted away. “And here I was thinking that what happened between us was just one special night,” she smiled. It made your heart skip a beat.

“As much as I enjoyed it, Wanda, I could do without the whole getting stranded in a blizzard thing again,” you joked. Wanda giggled as she rubbed the back of your neck, her touch sending shivers up your spine.

“Why don’t you stay tonight so we can try again?” she teased.“Are you sure?” You brushed your thumb over her chin as you looked at her with concern.

“Please. Stay with me.”

You sighed as you looked into her eyes. They were pleading with you to stay. Your brain was telling you that staying might not be the best idea, but your heart wouldn’t let you leave. You had to stay with her: there was no other option. So you wrapped her close again, pulling her close enough that she could feel the way she made your heart pound against the confines of your chest. “Okay, I’ll stay,” you murmured against her head, giving her a quick peck as the two of you sat on the couch. “We’ll get you through this, I promise.”

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