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cherienymphe · 11 months

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Borderline (JJ Maybank x Reader)

Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, jealousy, seemingly unrequited feelings, secret relationship, semi public sex, non canon ages, underage drinking

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | divider by @silkholland

summary: The three times you had sex with your best friend...and the one time you didn’t.

JJ’s hips pressed into yours, his bare chest brushing against your own with every thrust. His blond hair was damp from both water and sweat, not an unusual look for him, but seeing him from this angle? Yes, that was pretty unusual for you. You gasped when his cock hit a sensitive spot in you, clenching around him and pressing your fingers into his arm. The action made him hiss, and he leaned in to nip the skin of your chin with his teeth.

Having sex with your best friend in the back of your other friend’s van was not planned.

Ever.

You and JJ were as thick as thieves, and partners in crime were all you had ever been. Breaking into buildings together, jumping off of boats together, and even getting into fights together. If he couldn’t count on anyone to back up whatever stupid idea he’d concocted, JJ knew he could count on you. You were always happy to go along with whatever…except for this.

As he pressed a hand into your stomach, holding you down and in place to take his thrusts, you fought to remember how you’d gotten in this position in the first place. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to wrack your brain and think about what you’d been talking about only an hour ago. It was so hard to do with JJ pushing into you and making you lose your train of thought.

You’d been talking about some Pogue, some Pogue you’d been seeing and the way he’d practically begged you to take him back at the ice cream shop. He was nice enough and cute enough, but the relationship, if it could even be called that, hadn’t been going anywhere. JJ wasn’t supposed to be listening in, but he’d never done what he was supposed to a day in his life.

“That sounded awkward,” he’d said, glancing at you and taking his eyes off of the road. “Poor guy was basically offering his soul to get back together with you.”

You’d rolled your eyes, grumbling to yourself and annoyed with him for eavesdropping.

“You got the holy grail between those legs of yours or what?” he’d teased, poking your side with a chuckle and you’d slapped his hand away.

“Don’t be gross,” you’d complained. “Believe it or not, but I’m actually a great girlfriend, JJ. Sometimes people are sad to see me go.”

You hadn’t had the chance to hear his response because one of the front tires on the Twinkie blew, forcing JJ to pull off of the road and into the grass. Between his anger at discovering John B.’s lack of care to keep a spare tire and John B.’s anger at discovering JJ blew one, your ex had been the last thing on either of your minds then. At least, that was the case for you.

You were both sitting in the back of the van and waiting for John B. and Pope to show up with his dad’s truck and a tire when JJ brought it up again.

“Pervert comment aside, I was serious, you know.”

You’d turned to him, a questioning look in your eyes. Seeing that you had no idea what he was talking about, the blond had rolled his eyes, pushing his hair away from his face and trying to keep cool in this heat.

“Any guy you date always acts like it’s the end of the world when you break up with them,” he’d explained, and your mouth had fallen open in offense.

“That’s not true,” you’d scoffed. “I resent that.”

JJ had chuckled to himself, shaking his head.

“It’s so true. We talk about it all the time,” he’d laughed.

You’d straightened at that, frowning at him. We? Did he mean ‘we’ as in him and your friends sans you? That was news that you found hard to believe, and you told him, and JJ shook his head.

“No, we do,” he’d drawled, half laying down with his head against the inside of the van and one leg bent. “Not all the time obviously, but sometimes to just laugh at the lovesick fools you leave in the dust.”

“You make me sound like some kind of man-eater,” you’d mumbled. “…and I’m not. I just… I don’t know.”

You’d shrugged, not liking this conversation.

“When I’m not happy, I leave. I’m not one of those people to stay just to say I have a boyfriend or something. Sorry,” you’d pointedly said, thinking hard about what he’d told you.

It was then that JJ could tell you were genuinely a little bothered, and he’d sat up, hurrying to move closer.

“Hey, hey, no. It’s meant to be funny,” he’d assured you. “We don’t mean anything by it.”

You knew that. It still didn’t stop it from bothering you a little though, wondering if that was how other people viewed you since your own friends did.

“I know you don’t,” you’d sighed. “I’m being silly, I know, but now you’re just making me rethink my methods, I guess.”

JJ huffed, scooting closer to you until his shoulder brushed yours.

“It’s not your methods we’re laughing at, I promise,” he’d lightly said, bumping your shoulder with his. “We just think it’s funny how you seem to give these guys the best time of their lives that they’re always ready to beg for you back on their knees.”

You’d given him a look at that, and JJ wiggled his eyebrows.

“I’m not talking to you about that,” you’d chuckled. “Who do you think I am? Pope?”

“I’m just saying,” he’d dragged out. “I don’t think I’ve ever slept with any girl that had me down that bad.”

JJ was laughing to himself, and your smile fell a bit, eyeing him with a frown. You could feel it deepening the longer you stared at him, and you’d suddenly reared back a little.

“You sound almost curious,” you’d blurted out, a light laugh in your throat as you shook your head at him.

You knew that wasn’t true, but the thought had been funny, nonetheless. However, you hadn’t expected there to be any truth to that, let alone the actual truth.

“Maybe I am.”

JJ’s words had shocked you, making you freeze in place, and his even expression didn’t match your horrified frown, at all.

“Be serious,” you’d said after a while, feeling like you were in the midst of some elaborate joke.

Your best friend tilted his head at you, arms resting on his knees as he ran his gaze over your face.

“What makes you think I’m not?”

The lack of humor on JJ’s face had stumped you, and you blinked at him. For a moment, words escaped you, and the van felt entirely too small and entirely too quiet as you just stared at each other.

“JJ,” you’d slowly said, lightly hitting his arm. “Come on…”

He’d taken your hand, making your stomach drop, and your eyes widened as he fully turned to face you. There was a glint in his eye that you’d never seen before. At least, not directed at you.

“Come on what? I can’t be curious?” he wondered, voice dropping.

“No, you can’t,” you’d almost yelled, pulling your hand away and looking away in disbelief. “You’re my best friend. I bet you don’t wonder what John B. is like in bed.”

“I might! You don’t know that…”

You’d rolled your eyes at him, prepared to pretend this weird turn of events had never happened when you felt his fingers brushing your jaw. You had turned to face him in shock, eyes wide as he touched you with a gentleness that felt strange. JJ was your best friend, and his blue eyes were drinking you in in a way that felt suffocating.

“JJ…”

You could see him leaning in, and you hadn’t exactly done anything to stop it. In truth, you didn’t know why. JJ had never been anything but your best friend, never even tempted to think of him in that way. Finding out that wasn’t the case for him was shocking, sure, but not enough to keep you from pushing him away at the very least.

His lips brushing against yours had your heart skipping a beat, and for a few seconds, you didn’t kiss him back. You just sat there, letting him kiss you and getting the feel of his skin on yours in a way that was foreign. You’d blinked just as JJ deepened the kiss, clearly taking your lack of action as the okay, and you hadn’t been able to swallow down your gasp. When you hesitantly kissed him back, you’d felt JJ’s hand on the small of your back, the other fingering the strap of your top.

Everything after had been a mess of lips on lips, hands pulling at clothes, and finally skin on skin.

Your eyes flew open at a particularly hard thrust, JJ’s cock stretching you out so addictingly. Sweat clung to your skin, your clothes thrown somewhere in John B.’s van, and you couldn’t even find it in you to care about how hot it was. JJ’s hands were wrapped around your calves now, your feet pressed against his stomach as he slid into you over and over.

It was so hard to breathe for multiple reasons, but especially because you were having the best sex of your life and it was because of your best friend. The thought was enough to completely drag you out of the moment. It felt weird and good at the same time, and you couldn’t understand how that was. You couldn’t even find it in you to feel guilty over making a mess of your friend’s vehicle, feeling yourself dripping around JJ and smearing down your skin.

You’d actually almost forgotten that your friends were on the way with help and another tire. You’d almost forgotten they existed entirely until you heard JJ’s phone vibrating. You were on top of him, now, hands pressed into his shoulder and pushing yourself down onto his cock, fucking yourself onto him and chasing your high.

“They said they’re down the street,” he panted, one hand pressed into your waist while the other held his phone. “They’re close.”

As he said that, you could feel yourself getting close too, and your eyes rolled as you circled your hips.

“Fuck,” JJ breathed, and you could feel his eyes on you, but you were too preoccupied with coming.

When you finally did, you literally froze, lips falling open and a choked moan escaping just as you felt JJ’s hands tighten on you. Your nails were pressing into his skin, but if the way he deeply moaned was anything to go by, he didn’t seem to care. You could feel him stilling too, twitching inside of you, and the feel had you shuddering.

He was lazily moving your hips over his as you milked him, and you literally whined when you were forced to move off of him. Your back met the floor of the van, and you stared up at the ceiling, blinking in disbelief. You could faintly hear JJ hurrying to get dressed, but you couldn’t move.

You’d just had sex with your best friend…and it was great.

You felt yourself frowning, a myriad of emotions washing over you as you tried to process this. It didn’t seem real, and yet, the evidence was quite literally on you and in you. JJ called your name, and you realized he’d called it several times. You looked at him as he put your clothes in your hand, hurrying to help you sit up, and you felt like you were in a daze.

“Hey, hey,” he said, touching your face and making you look into his eyes. “We gotta get dressed, okay?”

He was right, and yet that still didn’t stop you from running your eyes over him, drinking him in. He both looked and didn’t look like your best friend, and it was an odd thought to wrap your head around. You couldn’t believe what you’d just done, and deciding that now was not the time to analyze your actions and the ramifications of them, you got dressed.

“Fuck, baby…”

JJ’s breathless voice in your ear only made you wetter, and you pushed back to meet his thrusts.

It had been weeks, almost three months actually, since the incident. That was what you liked to call it because what else could you possibly refer to it as? How else would you identify the day in which JJ had convinced you to sleep with him in the back of the Twinkie? What could you possibly call the day in which you realized that JJ’s feelings about you weren’t always so platonic, and that sometimes, just sometimes, he was actually very curious about what his best friend was like in bed?

You had thought that it would be weird, disastrous even. You had actually cried yourself to sleep that same night, so scared that you’d made a huge mistake and that it would ruin your friendship with JJ forever. You’d told yourself that you should’ve spoken up, been the voice of reason when you were both careless and clearly delirious from heat.

After all, some moments of pleasure were never worth the loss of a friendship.

However, when JJ had shown up at your door the next morning, dressed and looking like his normal self as he offered to drive you to John B.’s like he often did, you got the sense that maybe you’d overreacted. Nothing about his words, tone, or expression had even hinted at what had taken place the previous day, and you’d actually frowned.

Somewhat dazed, you had nodded with a small okay, telling him you needed to get dressed. You had given him a strange look when he came inside, flopping on your couch and scrolling through his phone like everything was normal. Like shit was sweet.

Shit wasn’t sweet.

You and your best friend had quite literally rocked the van, and he was pretending like it never happened.

“Um…JJ,” you’d said when you followed him outside.

He’d been in the process of climbing onto his bike, and he’d turned to look at you, face inquiring. You had actually scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Are you just…going to pretend like yesterday never happened or…?”

He’d blinked at your words, features softening some as he climbed off of his bike. You’d swallowed at his close proximity, kind of unsure of how to act around him, now. He looked the same as he always did, but it was so different, now. You’d held that blond hair as he kissed down your frame. You’d looked into those blue eyes as he’d pinned you between him and the floor of the van. You’d held onto those arms as you came around each other.

You didn’t know how to pretend like you hadn’t.

“I didn’t think you’d want it to ruin our friendship,” he’d finally said.

“I don’t,” you had spoken up, straightening. “That’s the last thing I want, but…I don’t know. You’re pretending like it didn’t happen. Aren’t we going to at least talk about it?”

“…and say what? That it was great? That you were great?” he’d moved closer, looking at you from beneath his lashes. “…because you were.”

You’d swallowed at that, glancing away and feeling heated.

“Look, I know that it wasn’t your idea of how to spend the afternoon, and I just feel a little bad.”

You’d frowned at his confession.

“JJ, I’m an adult. If I didn’t want to have sex with you, I could’ve said so,” you’d told him, shoulders sagging. “No…it definitely wasn’t my first choice of how to pass the time, but I don’t think I regret it. Not unless it’s going to make things weird…”

You were trying your hardest to prevent that from happening, and when JJ chuckled, you did too.

“We were friends, and we’re still friends. Just friends who had sex one afternoon in a hot van,” he’d said with a shrug.

The way he’d worded it had made you feel better, and you were relieved when he pulled you into a hug. After hugging him back, you’d happily climbed onto the back of his bike, writing the previous afternoon off as that weird day when you and JJ decided to have sex.

He was right, of course.

You and JJ were still the best of friends who just happened to fuck each other one time. Once you were around the rest of your friends, it was easy to relax and sink back into familiar dynamics. You were teasing each other and throwing things at each other and finishing each other’s sentences again in record time. While there’d been the stray thought or two that your friends would be able to tell what went down between you two, that had soon passed after about a week.

After a month, it really did seem like nothing even happened.

You couldn’t deny that it had crossed your mind on occasion. After all, it was hard to look at your best friend and ignore the fact that you’d had sex with him. It was usually a stray thought in passing, like a little reminder notification in your head, and sometimes it was accompanied by the afterthought that it was the best sex you’d had. That was still something you had a hard time grasping, but it wasn’t long before even that fact didn’t feel weird to you.

Nights at The Chateau and on boats had accumulated into literal months since that day. It was something that you really didn’t even think about, now. Not when JJ hugged you or when he pinched your side or even when he held you close with an arm around your neck. Why would you? Nothing about your friendship had changed, something you were beyond grateful for.

So, it was kind of a shock to you when JJ had cornered you against John B.’s fridge one evening.

You were getting something to drink, and you’d gasped when you felt a chin suddenly resting in the crook of your shoulder, a chest pressed to your back. He’d startled you more than anything, and JJ had laughed to himself at your reaction.

“Anything good in there?”

Your answer was on the tip of your tongue when you felt his hand on your waist, fingers kneading into your skin where your shirt had ridden up. You’d frowned to yourself, stomach twisting a bit before slowly pushing his hand away.

“Just the usual,” you’d dragged out, slipping from between him and the fridge.

You were making your way past him when he reached out, a finger hooking in your belt loop as he gently pulled you back. You’d given him an odd look as he pulled you closer, a nervous chuckle escaping. His blue eyes were fixated on you, and he’d pulled his lip between his teeth as your frown deepened.

“JJ…what are you doing?” you’d slowly asked, worriedly eyeing him.

Your question had made him pause, pressing his lips together as he stared at you. You’d watched him blink, his face pinching together just a tad before he’d let you go. If you had known better, you would’ve noted how reluctant he’d seemed to do so. The air had felt so weird as you studied him, and just like that, he’d chuckled and broke the spell.

You had watched him scratch the back of his head.

“I don’t know,” he’d confessed, shaking his head before brushing past you, throwing a small sorry over his shoulder.

That had been days ago, and as much as the interaction had concerned you, you’d forced yourself to let it go. You’d been glad you did because in the days that followed, it was like it’d never even happened…

…but then JJ had driven you home...and he’d gotten off of his bike with you, and before you’d been able to thank him…he’d kissed you.

So shocked by it, you had stumbled back, looking at him with wide eyes. It was hard to place the look on his face, like he was confused by his actions just as much as you were, but it didn’t stop him from reaching out and gently taking your arm.

“JJ, what-?”

“I don’t…I don’t know,” he’d softly mumbled, moving closer as he pulled you closer. “I don’t know.”

He kept repeating that as he leaned in, kissing you again, and his breath was shaky as he did. You’d placed your hand on his chest, and he reached up, holding it there as he moved his mouth against yours. Before, you’d told yourself you should’ve been the voice of reason, recalling how scared you’d been that night that your friendship as you knew it was over. You didn’t want a repeat of that, nor did you want that to come true, and so you’d pulled back.

“JJ, we can’t-.”

“Why?” he’d breathed, licking his lips. “…because we’re friends?”

“Yes,” you’d slowly told him. “…and I want to stay friends.”

The desperation in his gaze threw you.

“We did it before, and we’re still friends…”

You’d faltered at that, looking away when JJ had forced you to look back at him. One of his hands slid down to your waist, trailing over your back and side, and you shuddered at the feel. You could hear how uneven his breathing was.

“I…haven’t really stopped thinking about that day,” he confessed, making your heart skip a beat.

“What? Y-you said…”

“I know what I said,” he blurted out. “I know, but…”

JJ leaned in, nipping at your bottom lip before kissing you again.

“I want you so bad,” he breathed against your lips. “You get me so hard, and you don’t even know it.”

All of this was overwhelming news to you, and when JJ deepened the kiss, you could feel yourself traveling back to that afternoon in the Twinkie. The voice of reason in your head was fighting against the heated feeling that was slowly consuming you. You were thinking of what his skin had felt like on yours, what his hands had felt like on you, and what he’d felt like inside of you.

This wasn’t supposed to happen again.

Never mind the fact that you and JJ were friends, but you weren’t this kind of girl. Casual sex was never and had never been your thing. You liked relationships, always had. You liked having boyfriends, and getting flowers and gifts, and having sex with someone you could call yours. You’d written that afternoon off as the one wild thing you’d do for the next three years.

It wasn’t supposed to happen again.

…and yet, you found yourself leaning on JJ’s bike, one leg raised with your knee resting on the seat as he pushed into you from behind. Your shorts were around one ankle, your underwear long ripped off, and JJ’s hands were curled into your hips as he dipped his cock into you.

You couldn’t even stop yourself from gasping and moaning, trembling at the feeling of him fucking you from this angle. The bike shook from his movements, and one of his hands moved to hold it steady. His lips grazed your ear, and despite the fact that he was literally inside of you, you were still supposed to be just friends, but the words he whispered didn’t indicate that, at all.

“You’re so tight,” he groaned, cursing when he sank into you again. “I’ve been thinking about this all week, you know that?”

You suddenly thought about that day at John B.’s, JJ’s weird behavior, and you frowned through the haze.

“Just wanted to feel you wrapped around me…choking me…sucking me dry…”

A high-pitched gasp escaped your lips, and you struggled to stay upright. The sound of skin slapping against skin could be heard in your yard, and you prayed to whoever was listening that your neighbors didn’t decide to get curious today of all days.

JJ’s free hand traveled along your frame. Kneading your waist, squeezing your breast, curling around your throat. It was too much, and to your surprise, you could feel yourself coming. If JJ was shocked too, he didn’t show it, fucking you through it and turning you into a babbling mess. You were so wet, the sound of it meeting your ears every time JJ pushed his cock into you, completely sheathing himself inside of your walls, determined to find his release there.

You were meeting him thrust for thrust, determined to come again. You felt like a woman possessed, fucking yourself onto him and squeezing his cock. You didn’t even care that you were fucking your best friend again, only concerned with wanting to feel him come inside of you. The aftermath was something you couldn’t focus on, right now, and you knew you’d come to regret that line of thinking. When JJ came, he came before you this time, spilling into you and pushing into you so hard it jostled his bike.

The feel of him coating your walls sent you over the edge, squeezing him so tight that he cursed over and over, hand tightening on your neck as you struggled to breathe. You saw stars, and unlike last time, there was no rush to get dressed. JJ remained inside of you for a while, just holding himself there and basking in the aftermath of what you just did…again.

When he finally did pull out, you weren’t as dazed this time.

Instead, you frowned.

You were still shaking as you pulled up your shorts, a million thoughts running through your head. What did this mean? What were you? Were you friends who just happened to have sex twice…or did JJ intend for this to be a regular thing? You couldn’t stomach the latter, knowing the kind of girl you were and hating yourself for going against what you knew you were comfortable with.

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him.

One time could be a mistake, a lapse of judgement or just an afternoon of fun, never to be repeated. Twice? Twice was a choice on both your parts. JJ for making the move again, and you for allowing it. You stepped away from him when you were fully dressed, and you didn’t know what to say. You could still feel him in you, both figuratively and literally, cringing at the way he dripped out of you and into your shorts.

He was saying something about hanging out at Sarah’s place tomorrow, but you couldn’t really focus on it. You were too in your own head, but JJ didn’t seem to notice, leaning over to place a brief kiss to your lips before starting his bike. You watched him drive away, and you found yourself feeling incredibly…alone.

You sipped on your drink with a frown, heart clenching at the sight before you. The sound of partygoers would’ve normally been music to your ears, but all you wanted in this moment was some time with your own thoughts. That and to be far away from JJ Maybank.

Realizing your cup was now empty, you forced yourself to look away from the sight before you. You turned your back on blond and blonder, stumbling across the beach to get another drink. You almost tripped over your own feet and probably would have if it weren’t for Kie.

“Woah, hey! You okay…?”

She steadied you, and when you glanced up, the concern in her eyes was evident. You’d never been much of a drinker, and especially not to the point of inebriation, but you weren’t exactly yourself. You hadn’t felt like yourself for a while, now.

“I’m fine,” you told her, but it was a lie.

You weren’t fine.

You were in love with your best friend…and it was all his fault.

JJ had always been attractive. Even if that had never meant anything of consequence to you, you could still admit it. He was funny, charismatic, kind, and way too forgiving for his own good. He was always the life of the party, and he’d never failed to make you smile. He��d always been that way, so none of that was enough to make you fall for the guy, but then he had to go and start having sex with you.

Granted, it only happened twice, but twice was enough.

You weren’t a casual girl. You didn’t even know how to go about being a casual girl, and now that he’d added sex to your dynamic, it was hard to keep seeing him as your same best friend. It was hard not to stare, not to linger on the way his laugh traveled through the air or the way he shook his hair out of his face when it got wet. You’d found yourself drinking him in on more than one occasion when he was fixing his bike, swallowing at the sight of his stomach when he used his shirt to wipe his face.

In the months since the last time you’d had sex, it had snuck up on you.

You felt more excited to see him more than any of your other friends. You found yourself hanging onto his every word, and when you weren’t with him, you’d absentmindedly wonder what he was doing…and who he was doing it with. The thought always made your stomach turn, and you’d get the feeling like you’d be sick.

Like now, for example.

You poured yourself another drink, frowning at how close he and some girl were standing. They hadn’t stopped smiling since they met, and you wondered to yourself just what was so damn funny. You blinked back tears as you downed the drink in seconds, quickly getting another. You ignored Kie’s voice as you disappeared into the crowd, wanting to be as far away from JJ as possible.

You felt so stupid…because you knew this would happen.

You knew yourself, and you knew this would happen, but no. You just had to listen to JJ and let him in your head and convince you that everything would remain the same. Now, here you were, months later and dreaming about and sulking over your best friend. Every time he so much as touched you these days, it was almost enough to do you in. You were torn between feeling grateful you hadn’t had sex with him again since that evening in your yard or feeling sad that you hadn’t.

“Woah, hey, where…where are you going?” John B. wondered as you moved past him and Sarah.

“Home,” was all you said.

You could hear footsteps behind you, and you grumbled when the brunette stopped you.

“Like this? Y/N, you’re so drunk,” Sarah said from beside him, reaching for your drink.

You gave her a look as you held it out of reach, daring her to try and take it. She threw John B. a pleading look, and he sighed.

“It’s getting late,” he said. “Why don’t we all just call it a night, and you can crash at my place…”

You both loved and hated the sound of that, but your desire to collapse and cry yourself to sleep won. You reluctantly nodded, allowing Sarah to take your hand as John B. disappeared behind you. You weren’t in a talkative mood, and you were so glad that Sarah respected that. She was helping you into the van when you heard the last voice you wanted to hear.

“Why did you let her drink that much?”

“I’m not a child,” you answered before John B. could.

Everyone seemed shocked at your tone, but you couldn’t find it in you to care, opting to lie down. You closed your eyes, ignoring everyone until you felt a jacket being placed on you. The smell of it was familiar, and you didn’t even open your eyes as you shook it off.

“Y/N, it’s like 60 degrees-.”

“Why are you even here?” you wondered, opening your eyes and fixing your gaze on JJ. “What happened to your girl of the night?”

The blond didn’t respond right away, looking at you strangely, and for a moment, you almost thought he could see right through you. It made your heart skip a beat, and he slowly shook his head.

“That wasn’t…that wasn’t anything. Besides, even if it was, you’re drunk,” he said, like you were more important or something.

You rolled your eyes at that, closing them and forcing back tears.

This wasn’t like you. At all. You didn’t cry over guys and get so drunk you could barely stand and snap at your friends. JJ was turning you into someone you didn’t recognize, and you hated it. A year ago, your friendship was as strong as it could’ve been, and now…now you could barely look at him. Before, you wouldn’t have even given a second glance to JJ and some girl, but now the thought was almost enough to send you spiraling.

Why did JJ even have sex with you in the first place?

Everything was fine.

When you blinked, you took in the change of scenery, and it wasn’t hard to guess that you’d fallen asleep somewhere along the way. You were in a familiar living room, and you didn’t need to sit up to know you were on a familiar couch. How you got there was a mystery, and you could faintly hear the voices of your friends from down by the water.

You wouldn’t be joining them, preferring to isolate yourself, and the thought made your eyes water. This thing with JJ was even affecting your other friendships, and you sniffed, sitting up. Your mouth felt so dry, and you were just about to journey to find some water when you were startled.

“You wanna tell me what’s wrong with you?”

You jumped at the familiar voice, and you pressed your hand to your chest. You hadn’t even noticed JJ to your left, lounging in the dark like some creeper. You didn’t answer him, simply huffing and attempting to stand. You probably would’ve collapsed if it weren’t for the blond.

“Nothing is wrong-.”

“I don’t think I can ever remember a time when you were drunk…especially this drunk.”

“Why do you care?” you loudly wondered.

You didn’t miss the frown that covered his features, and you knew you were being a bitch. JJ was your best friend…of course he cared, but you were so lovesick and frustrated and drunk and angry that you weren’t thinking straight. Sleeping with JJ had changed too much for you because now you wanted him to care about you the same way you cared about him…and because he didn’t…sometimes it felt like he didn’t care, at all.

…and that wasn’t true.

“Of course, I care,” he softly said, forcing you to sit down.

He sat down with you.

“You’re my best friend…”

Those words had you closing your eyes, and you couldn’t stop your head from dropping.

“Hey…” you felt his hands on you. “What’s wrong?”

You could only shake your head, and you felt his hands on your face, now.

“JJ…”

You always told each other everything, but your relationship with him was so different, now, and you genuinely didn’t know how he’d react if you told him the truth. You didn’t think you could take it if he got that look on his face, the one where he looked both sheepish and in pain all at once, before telling you he didn’t feel the same. You knew it was true, but you couldn’t handle it if he told you outright he’d only wanted you for sex.

In your drunken state, you couldn’t handle that…so you kissed him instead.

If JJ was surprised, you couldn’t tell. Especially not with the way his hands tightened on your face. The presence of your friends right outside and down by the water was so far from your mind. Your drunken brain could only focus on JJ’s hands running down your sides and pulling at your dress. He seemed just as eager to be inside of you as you were to feel him there. You let out a sharp moan when his fingers brushed over you, and the blond shushed you.

“You have to be quiet,” he whispered, fumbling to release himself.

You pulled on his shirt as you laid down, pulling him on top of you, and you shuddered when you felt the tip of him poking against you. He was so hard already, and your heart clenched as you wondered if that was for you or leftover from her. JJ’s lips were hungry against yours as he reached down to push your panties to the side.

Your mouth parted into an O shape against his lips as he slowly pushed into you. It had been months since he’d stretched you out this good, and you almost couldn’t contain yourself. When he was fully inside, hips firmly pressed to yours, he held himself there for a while. It was as if he was basking in something he’d missed too, and you were too impatient, lifting your hips against his and letting out a small whine.

At that, JJ pressed his hand to your mouth before pulling his hips back. Only the tip of him remained inside of you before he surged forward, pushing into you with a force that made your eyes roll. Your fingers tightened in his shirt, and you breathed through your nose.

Every push of his cock had you shuddering and clenching around him, missing this and him so much. You felt so full when JJ was fucking you, more than you had with any of your previous boyfriends and the thought had you faltering.

JJ wasn’t your boyfriend.

He never would be, and as he fucked you against John B.’s couch, a few tears escaped. You wanted him to be, but this was just sex. That had been established since the beginning, and it was your fault for giving into something you knew you weren’t cut out for.

You felt like you couldn’t get close enough to JJ, wrapping your legs around him and lifting your hips to meet his thrusts. His fingers were digging into you and holding you so tight there was no doubt they’d bruise. His face was in the crook of your neck as he curved his hips into yours, breathing labored as he stuffed you full of his cock.

When he lifted his head, he removed his hand, kissing you on the lips before his lips traveled to your cheek and then jaw and then neck. He was kissing you and tasting you, and you couldn’t stop yourself from shuddering at the words that escaped his lips.

“You feel just like heaven,” he breathed. “You always do.”

You softly moaned his name, wrapping your arms around him and holding onto him.

“Always keep this pretty pussy nice and tight just for me,” he mumbled. “…always fit me so perfectly.”

He was murmuring incoherently, fucking you and kissing you and biting you. You could hear the squelch of him plunging into you, gasping as he hit something inside of you that made your back arch and toes curl. You were so drunk and he felt so good and you were on cloud 9.

“JJ…” you breathed. “I have… I have to tell…”

You trailed off, sinking your teeth into your lip to swallow down a moan. You were shaking beneath him, legs falling from around him, now as you let him fuck you. You moved your hand, reaching under his shirt too run your fingers across his torso.

“Oh my God,” you gasped, head thrown back as he grinded against you. “JJ, I have to tell you something.”

He cursed, looking down to where he disappeared into you.

“Fuck,” he hissed, slowly pushing into you. “You can tell me tomorrow.”

You wanted to tell him, now, but you could feel yourself hurdling towards the edge, and your drunken brain was too focused on trying to remain quiet. JJ’s hand covered your mouth again as he felt you getting close, his face buried into your neck as he became determined to make you come.

You kept your eyes on your drink, the same drink you’d had for the better part of an hour. Ever since that night a few weeks ago, you’d been kind of scared of alcohol, and ever since that night days ago, you’d been scared of JJ. Not genuinely, of course, but you couldn’t bring yourself to be around him and act the same around him.

You still remembered the feel of his hand on your waist in the water. Everyone else had gone inside, oblivious to your pleading gaze as the last thing you wanted was to be alone with JJ. Not because you were afraid you’d have sex with him again, but because of the opposite.

Waking up alone and still in your clothes from the previous night on John B.’s couch hadn’t made you feel as worse as knowing that you’d had sex with JJ again, and this time, you were the one to initiate it. The level of disappointment you’d felt had been astronomical, and you’d wanted to cry for being so weak and pathetic and cowardly.

You’d had sex because it was easier than telling him you were in love with him.

It was easier than facing rejection.

You’d officially hit rock bottom, and it was that morning that you’d decided something had to give. You’d gone straight home to shower, and you’d developed some resolve by the time you got out, telling yourself that this couldn’t go on like this forever.

Seeing JJ after that third night had definitely felt like a punch to the gut, but you told yourself you needed to get over this. He acted the same as he always had, you guessed, and you swallowed down any feelings that arose when he hugged you or grabbed you. You reminded yourself that once upon a time, you’d felt nothing at all at his touch, and that it needed to be that way again.

You’d been mentally preparing yourself to have the inevitable talk whenever that came up again.

You hadn’t expected to have it so soon.

Before, where there’d been literal months in between, this time, it was only mere weeks. His hand on your waist in the water after everyone else had gone inside had startled you, and while the sight of his wolfish grin did elicit butterflies, it also made your stomach churn in a negative way too. It was hard to miss the slight from on JJ’s face when you’d pulled away.

You’d been able to hear him following you to the edge and out of the water.

“What’s wrong?” he’d wondered, and you’d swallowed, slightly miffed because you thought you’d had more time.

JJ had never wanted to have sex again so soon, and you didn’t want to linger on what that could mean. It was just sex to him, anyway, and you didn’t doubt that he’d be disappointed, but you knew he’d get over it. For the sake of your friendship, you both needed to get over it.

“I don’t really want to do that anymore, JJ,” you’d slowly murmured, grabbing your towel.

The silence that met you was loud, and when you looked over, you confirmed that he was deeply frowning at you. It was hard to place the look on his face, but the surprise was easy enough to spot, and you wrapped your towel around you as he came near. Water dripped from his blond hair and down his face and onto his chest.

“I don’t… I don’t get it,” he lightly chuckled, but it lacked humor. “I thought everything was fine. Did I do something-?”

“No,” you had assured him, shaking your head. “You didn’t do anything wrong, trust me.”

You’d watched him run his hand through his hair, pushing it out of his face as he studied you. His blue eyes hadn’t looked so warm then, and he’d scoffed.

“The old ‘it’s not you it’s me’ thing, huh,” he’d drawled, rolling his eyes towards the sky. “I thought we were friends.”

“We are…”

“Then why aren’t you being honest?”

“I am,” you’d firmly told him. “I don’t want that anymore, JJ.”

You’d shrugged, glancing away.

“It was fun…sure, but we knew it couldn’t last and…”

“That’s the best you’ve got?” he’d wondered, tilting his head. “It couldn’t last so might as well end it, now, right?”

If you hadn’t known better, you would’ve said that he was angry, and his reaction confused you. You’d shaken your head at him, holding your towel around him.

“Why does it matter? It’s just sex to you, right?”

JJ had blinked at that, like he’d forgotten that, and you’d pulled your lip between your teeth. The whole ordeal was hard enough, and you hadn’t understood why JJ was making it harder. When he hadn’t said anything more, only nodding, you’d finally decided to join your friends inside.

That had been days ago, and your hopes that things would go back to normal had been squashed when JJ had been giving you the equivalent of the cold shoulder ever since. He wasn’t cruel, of course, and it certainly wasn’t noticeable by anyone else…but you knew.

You knew it in the way he didn’t direct his jokes towards you or in the way he didn’t hug you anymore or how he didn’t even offer to drive you home. It was little changes that completely flipped what you knew of your friendship, and it had taken you by surprise.

…because JJ was mad at you.

…and you didn’t know why.

Your friendship had wound up in the one place you hadn’t wanted it to be, and more than you ever had before, you desperately wished you had never slept with him in the first place. Here you were, at a party and fighting with your best friend, only you couldn’t understand why. To add insult to injury, you had to leave your other friends in the dark about it. You couldn’t even imagine taking it from the top with them, dreading to hear Pope go on a whole ‘I told you so’ rant about Pogue on Pogue macking.

Feeling utterly alone and filled with regret, you decided to just cut your losses and go home.

You wondered if JJ took the whole thing personally, like it was specifically him you were rejecting and not the casual sex of it all. Surely, he had to understand that this whole thing should’ve never started to begin with. Had things been so peachy from his side? Had he had none of these thoughts, none of these doubts about what you were doing? At all? You found it hard to believe, and then you remembered Kie saying something once about men being simple creatures.

Maybe JJ really had thought that everything was perfect, and why wouldn’t he? He could sleep around with whoever he wanted and still turn around and get it from you too. From his point of view, he was probably on top of the world.

You were halfway to your house when you heard it, the sound of a bike, and you really didn’t think much of it until it started to slow. Looking over, the last person you expected to pull up beside you was JJ, and you paused. You eyed him as he stopped, and you watched his shoulders heave with a heavy sigh.

“Hop on,” he said.

You opened your mouth to say something when he continued.

“It’s late and…you shouldn’t be walking home…”

He wouldn’t look at you, and you found his behavior so odd. Still, as weird as he was being, he was right. It was late, and no matter how much of a weird place your friendship was in, you weren’t going to turn down his offer to take you home.

You swallowed at the feel of wrapping your arms around him. It reminded you of both the simpler times of your friendship, and the more complicated where your feelings for him were literally making you miserable. When he parked at your house, you were surprised to see him getting off the bike too, and you eyed him, watching him sigh again before looking away with a taut jaw.

“Can I come in?”

You blinked, taken aback, but unable to refuse.

“Of course,” you softly told him.

You had a feeling this conversation wouldn’t be light, and you wondered if you should play pretend at first and offer something to eat or if you should just tell him to get right to it. You turned to face him just as he locked the door, and you blinked at him.

JJ looked…troubled as he leaned against the door, just frowning at you.

“I don’t…I don’t want to break it off…”

That admission didn’t really shock you, and you nodded.

“Yeah, I gathered as much,” you mumbled, recalling his reaction that day.

“I thought things were good,” he quietly said.

“For you, maybe,” you scoffed. “Not for me…”

You crossed your arms over your chest, plopping down onto your couch.

“So, that’s it,” he said it more like a statement than a question. “Just like that you decide its over.”

You swallowed down the words you really wanted to say, confessing to him how you felt, but you knew it would only hurt you. You reached up, rubbing your temples as you stood. JJ was still leaning against the door, staring you down, and you shook your head.

“I don’t understand this, JJ,” you whispered. “You can and do sleep with whoever you want. Why does it matter that I don’t want that to be me anymore?”

“…because the thought of you sleeping with anyone else makes me sick,” he sneered, shocking you.

The vitriol and malice in his tone had your eyes widening, and before your eyes, it was like a mask dropped, revealing the angry guy underneath. You scoffed, glancing away with a shake of your head.

“We’re not together, JJ,” you slowly started. “…and besides you don’t have to worry about that anytime soon.”

Only God knew how long it would take you to get over your best friend, but as he approached you, you wondered if that day would come sooner rather than later. You gasped at the way he grabbed your arm, and again, there was that troubled look in JJ’s eyes, like his own actions shocked you just as much as they shocked him.

“I didn’t…”

His voice was quiet, and he trailed off, releasing a shaky breath through his nose as he stared at you. You watched his blue eyes rake over you, drinking you in and studying everything about you. You watched his face fall some, and he stepped closer. His hold on you kept you from taking one back.

“I thought I could sleep with you and that would be it,” he started, huffing to himself. “I didn’t know I’d be thinking about you almost every day since…fighting the urge to fuck you in front of all out friends…”

Your eyes widened.

“I didn’t think I’d drive myself crazy thinking about the day you finally got another boyfriend, and you wouldn’t…you wouldn’t be mine anymore.”

You were at a loss for words, somehow both hearing what you wanted and what you didn’t.

“I tried to just let it go, fight it, but I couldn’t…and I…I had to have you again, and I tried to fight it again, and then you…you kissed me this time,” he said through clenched teeth. “You wanted me and then you just broke it off.”

You furiously blinked, trying to gather your thoughts, but JJ kept talking.

“I wanted to break something. I wanted to break someone’s neck,” he spat, moving closer. “Now, that I’ve had you… I don’t think I can just let you go.”

Both of his hands were on your arms, now, and you pressed your hands to his chest.

“JJ, wait-.”

He swallowed your words, kissing you, and any fight against him was futile. Your mind was trying to make sense of this turn of events. There wasn’t anything to be happy about because you didn’t know if JJ actually felt something for you, or if this was pure possessiveness. Ownership. You wanted to talk about this, but the way he ignored your protests and resistance had you rethinking everything.

JJ wouldn’t let you get a word in, keeping his lips on yours, and you yelped into his mouth when he tore at your shirt. You sucked in air when you turned your head away, pushing against him.

“JJ, stop-! What are you…?”

You gasped when he shoved you onto the couch, and you felt like you were having an out of body experience. The very same best friend that you loved was pinning you beneath him, pulling your skirt down because you dared to put a stop to whatever this casual fling was.

Any thoughts entertaining the revelation that maybe he actually felt the same way this whole time was gone. This wasn’t love. This was about a guy feeling like you owed him something, owed him a part of you, and you yelped in pain when his teeth sank into your chest.

“JJ, stop,” you tearfully pleaded, pushing against his face.

“Why? Huh?” he wondered, hovering over you and holding you down.

His blond hair hung into his face, and his blue eyes were hard, staring you down like you’d done something wrong.

“So things can go back to the way they were before we slept together? If I say I don’t want that then what?”

You sniffed, trying to close your legs, but it didn’t prevent him from pushing into you, stretching you out in a way that was so familiar. You shuddered at the feel, and JJ pressed his tongue to the inside of his lip, watching himself slowly disappear into you.

“You don’t have half a clue what you do to me,” he murmured, leaning down and pinning you beneath him. “You don’t even get how you’ve ruined me for anybody else.”

He snapped his hips against yours, a harsh grunt leaving him, and you gasped. One of his hands had your wrists pinned to your stomach, the other forearm was pressed into the couch beside your head, holding himself up so that he could alternate between looking at your face and looking down to where you two connected.

“I…I’m sorry,” he whispered, brushing his lips over yours. “I’m sorry, I really am, but I can’t… I can’t let you go.”

You turned your head away.

“I can’t let you end this.”

Your face crumbled at that, wondering if you’d just told him how you felt, if it would have ever come to this. Then again, it was better to know what JJ was really like, wasn’t it? Wasn’t it better to know that he wasn’t the sweet and caring guy you always thought he was? Surely, it had to be better to know that he was capable of anything under the right circumstances too.

That was what you told yourself, but as he plunged into you, sliding his cock into your now slick walls, you almost wished you’d remained in blissful ignorance. As you shuddered beneath him, you wondered if this was where you would’ve wound up eventually even if you had refused him that day in the van.

“Fuck,” he cursed, slowly thrusting into you and forcing a whine to climb out of your throat. “Just imagine…”

He pushed into you to the hilt, holding himself there and reaching up to brush his fingers along your jaw.

“If you had never shown me what I was missing.”

#jj maybank x pogue!reader #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #dark!jj maybank #dark!jj maybank x reader #outer banks #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks imagine #obx imagine #obx #obx fanfiction #jj maybank imagine

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seeingivy · 10 days

Text

death by a thousand cuts

satoru gojo x f!reader

**part of my satoru as taylor swift songs series

an: a wild taylor as gojo has appeared. enjoy. satoru as taylor swift anon who is always in the asks, this is for you. i see you and i hear you.

“holy shit. there’s no way you’re on his fucking linked in during class?” megumi whispers.

you feel your eyes widen as you look to your left to find a very, deeply distraught megumi staring at you. and it’s almost like clockwork, the way he abandons his accounting spreadsheet – and quickly slides into the messages app on his laptop.

the three consecutive buzzes of your phone thrum under your thigh come before you see nobara and yuuji turn their heads back, two rows ahead of you in the lecture hall, and looking awfully more distraught than megumi.

“you’re kidding.” nobara mouths.

“freak!” yuuji whispers, earning you a set of weird glances from the group at your right.

you glare at the two of them, before turning to megumi and bringing your foot down on top of his. megumi winces, giving you a very characteristic and unbothered eye roll, before he returns to finishing up his spreadsheet.

you pull your hood up over your ears, cheeks warm and pink from embarrassment, before you focus back on the screen.

you know that he’s right. that there is really no point at looking at his account – not when you have all of the details memorized.

Satoru Gojo Senior Data Science Student @ Tokyo Technical Institute

three work experiences. data analytics intern for the justice project. hackathon project lead. meadow investments development engineer.

two degrees under his education. because he’s dual enrolled and set to get a bachelor’s in computer science and a masters in engineering by the end of his term next year.

and one organization. alpha kappa psi, the business fraternity.

the only reason you were at the scene of the crime.

it was all miwa’s fault. and partially yours, for being so willing to come to her aid – at all times. when she asked you to accompany her to the bid party – just because she wanted to support mechamaru fresh in their new relationship and didn’t do too well in social situations – you had all but obliged. at the most, you would get a cheap shot and brownie points to get miwa to run the errands for the entire month.

except when it came to it, miwa wasn’t nervous at all, only because mechamaru had spent the past few weeks hyping her up to his pledge class. which left you alone, stuck to roam around until she was ready to leave at the end of the night.

the floor was sticky with beer, there was an almost rancid, putrid smell lingering in the air that you couldn’t pinpoint, and you were stuck with sixty of your peers – shitfaced to a point you didn’t even know was humanly possible.

and with miwa long gone, doing god knows what with mechamaru and you were stuck leaning against the fridge, bored out of your mind. that’s when he found you – pawing your way through the food.

his smell was the first thing that caught your attention, second to the fact that he was hovering over your shoulder, cheeks brushing against each other. it was almost minty and stark – almost eradicating the lingering smell of weed that was burning your nose.

the skin on his cheek was soft, featherlike when it brushed against yours.

“whatcha doing, dollface?”

you immediately curl your nose, turned off by the unnecessary sweetness. you had your fill of dirty frat boys during orientation week, three years ago, and knew damn well that you had to steer clear of whatever was happening here.

“playing where’s waldo, genius. i’m obviously looking for food.” you state.

you reach for the closest box, a perfectly cut slice of cake, encased in a wrap. the plastic is covered in messy scribbles on the top – spelling out satoru in loopy letters.

“you’re just going to eat someone else’s cake?” he asks.

“how do you know it’s not mine?”

“intuition.”

it’s only then that you stop yourself to look up at this stranger whispering in your ear, only to find glimmering blue eyes, peering over the top of a set of sunglasses. the sunglasses are god awful – even worse with the combination of the tanktop and the snapback he’s wearing backwards.

you swear there’s a faded, glittery pink lipstick mark indented at the top of his cheek.

“you-you’d be shocked.” you stutter, as you pull the box out of the fridge and place it on the counter.

he momentarily walks away – which is when you take the second to ogle him in full. a toned back, a tattoo on the top of his shoulder that you can’t entirely make out. white hair, veiny arms, and a silver necklace hanging against his collarbone.

he returns back, two forks in hand, before making a dramatic display of handing you one.

“for you, my sweet lady.”

“i’m not sure why you brought two forks. who said i was going to share with you?”

he grins, leaning his head back to laugh like a little kid, before he scoots closer to you – the sweet scent coming back.

“c’mon.”

he reaches for your hand, before lifting it to place it against his chest. you can feel his heart beating under the feeling of your fingertips, his eyes wide and expectant as he waits for and answer.

“do me a favor, yeah? let me share my cake with a pretty girl at a party. there’s only a limited amount of joys in this life.”

you scoff, before pulling your hand back.

“you’re corny.”

he shrugs.

“you’ll get used to it.”

you groan, as you slam your computer shut – the image of his shiny headshot staring back at you getting burned into your eyes.

stupid. stupid, stupid, stupid.

one stupid joke, a slice of cake, and somehow you woke up in his bed the next day being spooned by him. and one thing led to the next because he was somehow taking you to brunch, then settling his head in between your legs before dinner, and then back at your house the next day.

it was an arrangement at that point. the dinners, what happened in between, and the morning after.

you’re not sure what the terms and conditions are in a predicament like yours – with a guy like satoru. you know for a fact that he still flirts with other girls, because you’d see him walking with a different one every time you stopped at the coffee shop. but then he’d invite you to dinner, honey sweet words falling from his lips before he tucked you in for bed each night.

friends with benefits. but he buys you gifts and takes you to dinner. and calls you beautiful. comes to your house after frat parties, with the faintest scent of a flowery perfume on his neck that you swear you’re imagining.

letting him walk out of your apartment was your own personal tourture, of death by a thousand cuts, because every step farther away from you was closer to someone else.

and that sinking, deep rooted dread, only got worse as time went on.

you feel a hard smack against your head.

“do your fucking homework.”

satoru gojo has distinct features that you always find yourself staring at. a mole on his shoulder, a scar on his pointer finger, and the rings he wore. sometimes, you find yourself asking them about him.

you reach forward, locking your fingers in on the chain around his neck, and using it to pull him closer. it's of a little postage stamp, though the silver looks rusted – like he’s worn it to death. he’s quick to oblige, a warm kiss on your cheek, before you yank again.

“what, baby?” he whines.

“where’d you get your necklace?”

he leans back, looking down at the chain, before his eyes meet yours again. there’s a dim fluorescent glow coming in from the blinds of the window, sun far gone in the horizon, and it’s the only thing that makes this bearable.

that his piercing blue eyes somewhat subdued from the lack of light.

“you want it, princess?”

“what? no. i just like it. i wasn’t –”

it’s a boyish giggle that comes out of satoru’s mouth as he quickly unfastens the clasp from his neck before tangling it in his fist.

you’re not an idiot – because it’s his freezing cold fingers pulling your shirt over your head – before he pulls you into his lap.

this was one of satoru’s favorite things to do. pull you close, till you’re straddling him in his lap, and you can feel his breath tickling against his collarbone as he whispers sweet nothings to you.

you wonder if he can see your blush in the dim light. if that’s part of why he likes it – seeing the effect he has on you.

he reaches forward, pulling your hair to the side and pressing a kiss to your collarbone, before he fastens his silver necklace around your neck.

“you know. when i said i liked your necklace, i said i liked it on you. i wasn’t asking for it.”

“but i like seeing you wear it more.”

satoru’s eyes are focused as he fixes the tangles in the chain, letting the little charm hang right in the little divot where your collarbone ends. and then he brings his hands in around your face, nearly squishing the softness of your cheeks together, before he presses a kiss to your forehead.

“will you wear my hoodie?” he jokes.

you scoff.

“are we in sixth grade? also, it quite literally says ‘yuuta’s big’ on the sleeve. that’s not obvious at all.”

satoru rolls his eyes.

“you would love yuuta, though. he’s your pseudo little brother, because you’re with me, you know?”

you shake your head, as you crawl out of his lap, and reach for the water bottle on the side table. you try to ground yourself, head spinning as you try to decipher what that means – and tap your feet on the floor.

you can feel him at your side, his observant blue eyes burning holes into your skin, as you note the steady, almost cautious tone in his voice.

“you okay? something i said?”

you shake him off.

“yeah, yeah. sorry. got out of the mood there for a second, just have a lot to do this week.”

satoru hums, before bringing his hands around your torso, leaning his entire weight against you as he settles his chin into the crook of your neck.

“you ever think you work too hard, pretty girl?”

“working hard or hardly working?” you joke. even his corny jokes were rubbing off on you.

you hear satoru scoff, before he starts rubbing circles into the bare skin of your stomach, as the goosebumps start to trickle over your skin.

“oh, don’t be like that. you’re the smartest person i know.”

“is this a clever way to get into my pants?”

“no. it’s me telling you that i think you’re very intelligent, you’re very driven, and you don’t have to worry about if you’re working hard enough. i know the only breaks you take are to go to that dumb movie theater downtown with your grumpy friend or when you scream my name every –”

“satoru.” you whine.

“don’t say my name like that. it turns me on.”

you grin.

“satoru.” you hum, teasing him.

“fuck off.”

he pauses, before pressing a lingering kiss to the side of your neck.

“but really. you’re a clever, you’re pretty, and irritatingly very accomplished. slow down so i can catch up, okay?”

“that’s rich coming from you. mister three internships, two degrees in four years.”

it’s quiet.

“how’d you know that?” satoru asks.

you can hear the smile in his voice. and the dread pooling in your stomach.

“what?”

“how’d you know it was two degrees?”

“you-you told me.”

“no, i didn’t. i just got accepted a few weeks ago, i haven’t even told some of my friends yet.”

you groan, before bringing your hands up to your face. you bury your eyes into the sockets of your eyes, getting caught embarrassedly red handed.

“where?”

you sigh.

“i stalked you on linked in.”

satoru grins wide, before pulling you back onto the bed and into his embrace. you can hear his giggling in your ear as you try to pull away.

“oh, baby you didn’t.”

“i had to make sure i didn’t apply where you worked!”

“no, you didn’t. we don’t even work in the same field.”

“you don’t know! i could change my mind!”

satoru laughs, before leaning forward to press a quick kiss to your lips.

“you have a crush on me! angel, you should have just said so!”

you give him a hard push, before crossing your arms over your chest.

“quit teasing. so i’m a stalker! so what? i just want to make sure i’m not putting out for a loser. you could be coding some AI for the government for all i know and i don’t want to be –”

“okay, okay. relax. i’m just teasing, i just think it’s cute you keep tabs on me.”

you glare.

“i don’t like you.” you state.

he rolls his eyes, before flopping his head down on your pillow and tapping the space next to him. you crawl into the space, before nestling yourself into his arms. you can feel your brain spiraling – instant regret for saying too much, being too weird, too harsh, and not saying what you felt – as you focus on the feeling of his hands running through your hair.

“i can tell that the hamster in your brain is working overtime. just go to bed, okay?”

“okay, lock the door when you leave?”

“i don’t have plans tomorrow morning. if you could humble yourself to eat breakfast with me, i’d actually like that.”

you frown, stomach jolting in your guts.

he had never stayed for an arbitrary reason – like spending the night just to sleep next to you. you shut your eyes, burying your face deeper into the sweet smell of his skin, and throw the thought away.

“mimosas?”

“you want to drink that early in the morning?”

“it’s saturday. gives me a good kick to start my day.”

“aren’t mimosas made with champagne? i hate champagne. and it makes you really handsy.”

you smile.

“you like when i’m handsy.”

“i mean, yes. but we can just do pancakes and go to the library together so we can do work. i’ll keep you accountable and find you snacks when you get inevitably cranky. then when you come home all tired, we can be as handsy as we want. it’s more satisfying when you have to work for it.”

you groan, burying the complications of spending yet another day with him in the back of your head as you try to flutter your eyes shut – in futile attempts to quiet the thoughts racketing around in your mind.

“okay, okay whatever. we’ll see tomorrow, i just – i’m really tired right now and –”

“shut up, dollface. just sleep.”

you get invited to the alpha kappa psi formal. miwa – who found out from mechamaru, whose pledge class brother is very close with satoru’s little yuuta – said that satoru wanted you there.

then why didn’t he ask you?

you bite the bullet anyways, borrowing one of kugisaki’s pale blue slip dresses – and attend as mechamaru’s pledge brother – todo’s date – to get in.

he’s a strange guy, who doesn’t pay you too much attention. it’s one polite wave and a cardstock ticket he hands you before you don’t see him again for the rest of the night. and you’re stuck with miwa and mechamaru, who are bigger fans of pda than you are.

“how’s satoru, y/n?” mechamaru asks.

“ah. he’s good. you know as much as i do, right?”

you can feel yourself sweating.

would satoru leave if you said too much? if you embarrassed him in front of one of his brothers? did they know you guys had an…arrangement? was it an arrangement? were you seeing each other? why did they think he invited you?

“dunno. aren’t you guys really good friends?” mechamaru asks.

“um, yeah.”

“yeah, he was telling us you studied together at the library the other day. figured he’d want you to meet suguru and ieiri.”

suguru and ieiri.

“yeah. i’m gonna go get a drink. do you guys want anything?”

“i’m good, love. we’ll be here.” miwa states, giving a reassuring squeeze to your bicep before you drag your heels to the makeshift bar.

you walk over to the bar, straight to the open bottle of rosé that has your name on it, as you lean against the wall. you pour way too much into your flute, nearly spilling it over the back of your hand, as you curse.

“do you want help?”

you look up to find a boy looking at you, wide eyes, with his bangs sweeping down the side of his face. he has tired eyes, but it’s a seemingly bright smile he offers you.

“sorry, yeah. i’ll clean it up, i swear.”

“no, no. no problem.”

he hands you a handkerchief from his pocket, before he pulls your hand in his and wipes the excess pink stain on it. you cringe at the stain on the cloth before he tucks it back into his pocket.

“i’m sorry about that. that’s really kind of you, i just –”

“no problem! you seemed…kind of frustrated there. happy to help.”

you shoot him a polite smile, before nervously sipping – maybe a little too fast for comfort. but the warm feeling is enough to temporarily curb the nerves, which is perfect for your sake.

“are you a brother?” you ask.

“yeah! is this your first formal?”

“yeah. i’m seeing someone in your frat and he asked me to come. well, he didn’t ask me to come, he told someone else he wanted me to come so i came as one of the other brother’s date. but not really his date, because i haven't seen him since then. or the guy i’m talking to.”

he leans back, eyes wide.

“right. do you like him? if…if you mind me asking.”

“my date? i can’t even remember his name. he’s like a tall, muscular guy. man bun?”

“no, yeah. his name is todo, i figured that’s who you were talking about. i mean the other guy.”

“oh. well, yeah. but he’s so…i don’t know. he’s a frat guy. and a chronic flirt. the first time i met him he had a lipstick stain on his cheek. and he smells like girly perfume every time he comes to see me, so –”

he sucks his teeth in.

“idiot.” he murmurs.

“what?”

“no! oh my god, not you! i meant…me! just thought of something. gotta run for a second, i’ll be back.”

“wait, you didn’t even tell me your –”

you watch as he rushes off, in a speed walking fervor, as mechamaru and miwa join you at your side. they give you a polite smile, which you return, as you swirl the glass in your hand.

“mechamaru. do you know that guy who just walked away? tired looking, the long hair?”

“oh, yuuta. yeah, what about him?”

“yuuta?”

“yeah, you’ve never met him? he’s like gojo’s pride and joy.”

you sink against the wall, embarrassment coursing through you, as you down the rest of your glass. and then three more, which is accompanied by weary looks from miwa. and after finishing off the entire bottle – an hour and a half into the party without seeing satoru – you’re set on leaving.

and it’s only on your rageful stomp out the door, well past tipsy, that you find the godawful man of the hour, leaning against the wall.

it’s enough to fill you with a rage. because he’s leaning against the wall, shirt slightly unbuttoned, and smiling brightly at whichever girl he’s talking to. you’re almost positive that it’s probably her flowery perfume that you’re smelling on his neck at the time, that she’s who he sees when he’s not with you, and it’s like pins and needles in your stomach.

and you almost make your escape, before he catches you on your way out.

“y/n? wait, y/n!”

you’re one step out the door, before he grabs your bicep, and pulls back, giving you a bright grin.

“i didn’t know you were here yet. i’ve been waiting, come here, c’mhere.” satoru mumbles, quickly rushing you over to the group of three people standing by the door, who all turn their heads for you.

you groan as you turn to the group of them. it’s the same tired eyes as before – that you now know belong to yuuta – and two strangers you’ve never seen before. a guy almost as tall as satoru, with swooping bangs and a manbun, and the girl – who you can’t stand to look at, with perfect beach waves swooping past her shoulders.

and what you can’t help but notice is a sparkling, silver postage stamp necklace around her neck. the same one around yours, that you had been fidgeting with since satoru gave it to you weeks ago.

“here’s your drink, satoru.” the girl states, handing him a glass of white wine that he takes.

it’s enough to make your rage bubble to the surface.

“the lady of the hour, guys! this is y/n, she’s my –”

you scoff.

“are you kidding?”

“hm?”

“lady of the hour? for what, your jokes?”

you watch as satoru’s face drops, before he sets the glass of wine down on the closest table.

“huh? what do you mean? i wanted to introduce you to ieiri, i know you’re going to love her.”

you can feel the tears accumulating in your eyes, that you’re almost positive that satoru notices, because his face visibly droops even more, this time replaced with genuine concern that sends a pang in your chest that has you wrestling your wrist out of his hold.

“you…you’re so mean, satoru.”

“baby, what?”

“don’t…why are you calling me that? every morning you wake up next to me and you’re still not my baby. that’s not exactly fair. you smell like a different girl and you still…you still flirt with other people.” you whisper.

his eyes go wide.

“no, i –”

“every time you walk away i’m half convinced you’re just going to someone else you’re stringing along like me. i’m sitting there thinking about how you’ve walked hundreds of steps away from me hundreds of times and it feels like a thousand little cuts every time you do and it kills me that you don’t even care.”

you can feel that whatever is coming out is word vomit, like it’s started and now it won’t ever stop.

“i see you everywhere, because you literally come everywhere with me just to leave. any song you’ve sang is now our song, any movie, literally anything you’ve even touched. i can’t even wear certain clothes without thinking about how you complimented me in them and i’m stuck thinking about how you probably say that to everyone. you don’t even drink wine and you’re over here drinking some with this random girl at this party, when that’s my thing that we drink wine together. you gave her the same necklace as me, and you apparently asked me to come to but didn’t even tell me about to my face? then you sick your little frat brother to ask me if i like you just so you can….i don’t know, i don’t know what you’d do with that information!”

you watch as satoru pinches the bridge of his nose, only to turn to the three of them at his side, who are all shaking their heads dismissively.

“suguru. i fucking told you he had to be leaving something out.”

“well, i didn’t realize it was going to be like this, shoko. no wonder she won’t date him.”

you swallow hard, as you seem to sink deeper in the pits of your own embarrassment, which seems to be a record low.

“fuck. you…you said her name is shoko?”

geto offers you a smile.

“that’s right.”

“like satoru’s hometown friend? the…the lesbian?”

“that would be me.” she confirms.

you cringe.

“oh my god. i’m really sorry, i’m really drunk. i drank an entire bottle of wine after i accidentally talked to yuuta and i just –”

“well, i’d get drunk if i were you too. he smells like other girls? and flirts with them?” shoko asks.

“i do not! i don’t even know what you’re talking about. i didn’t even know she even liked me back till twenty minutes ago.”

“the necklace is a nice gesture. satoru, geto, and i all have these matching postage stamp necklaces from this shitty place in our hometown. we got them together when we graduated so we wouldn’t forget about what was important when we all go to college.”

you turn to satoru.

“and you just gave that to me?”

“well, i knew you’d take care of it.”

“that’s like…that’s like sentimental, satoru. you literally gave me your childhood best friends memento and that’s so-”

“well, obviously that seems like a little much if you think we’re just friends with benefits!”

you scoff.

“you’re the one who wanted to be friends with benefits.” you clarify.

“what are you talking about? you literally cringe away from any affection i give you!” satoru retorts.

“because you flirt with other girls!”

“not since you! why would i flirt with other people?”

“you tell me. i smell the perfume.”

satoru groans.

“that’s your perfume, dipshit. you left your hoodie at my house and it smells like you so sometimes i sleep next to it and then i smell like it. how do you not recognize your own smell?”

you pause.

“you do what?”

“not in a fucking weird way. i just miss you when you’re busy. you smell nice, it’s –”

“hopeless.” yuuta states, earning him a nod from suguru.

“you didn’t even ask me to come here with you.” you state.

“shoko had to be my date so she could come. i had to make yuuta drag maki in through a window because geto was his plus one. i just wanted you here so you could meet my childhood friends, who i care about. they’ve heard about you for so long that i just thought –”

“you talk to your friends about me?”

“an insufferable amount. though most of his agony seems self inflicted now, because he’s a fucking idiot.” shoko confirms.

“okay, let’s get y/n some water, yeah?” yuuta suggests, before shuffling the two of them off, to which satoru sends a grateful smile before turning back to you.

he crouches down a little, just so your eyes are level, as you frown at him.

“is this what that hamster in your brain is doing up there? overthinking literally everything?”

“you –”

“if you asked, i would have clarified for you. we’ve always been exclusive and if you talked to someone else while we were talking, i��m going to have to kill him.”

“don’t be stupid.”

“i’ll just send a threat! sign his emails up for scientology. he was talking to my girl!”

you glare at him.

“you…you’re so stupid, satoru. you confuse me so much and i just…you take up too much space. you’re everywhere – literally no part of me that you haven’t taken up and i just…”

satoru frowns, before pulling his hands around your face, and angling up by your chin to look at him.

“don’t give up now. it just got good.” he whispers.

“satoru.”

“cmon. let me lick all thousand of your cuts clean.”

“ew. you’re…you’re so gross, satoru.”

“okay, that was just a dirty joke. but let me make it up to you, really. i didn’t realize you…you were thinking all that. i thought you just liked me because i was sexy and because i eat your –”

“satoru!”

“please. let me into that hamster ball in your brain. i deserve some space.”

“it’s all boarded up. the hamster ball house burned down.” you groan.

he leans back, like he’s inspecting your face, before he presses a kiss to your forehead.

“dunno. i’m seeing some flickering lights in there. i can tell your hamster in there really wants me.”

“quit….quit calling me a hamster! you’re so…ugh. i have a headache and i’m drunk and i’m really confused and i just –”

satoru mimics a little salute, before he loops his hand around your waist and walks you towards the little bar.

“okay, test run. i’m on boyfriend duty. if this goes well enough, you give me a chance tomorrow.”

you squint your eyes at him.

“okay, water first. then i have two baby aspirin for you in my pocket. three kisses on the cheek if you won’t insult me after and a compliment if you won’t kill me.”

“really?”

“yuuta told me you downed a whole bottle. since you’re too mad to be handsy, you have a headache. but don’t worry, i came prepared. meaning i forced yuuta to find some baby aspirin or else. and also, kisses because you smell good and you’re wearing this pretty blue dress that’s the same color as my eyes and you’re about to meet my favorite people ever and you’re my favorite person ever, so this is a big deal.” satoru responds.

he’s rambling so hard that you feel like you can see the hamster in his mind working overtime.

“what’s the verdict?”

satoru’s voice is like a thousand bullets in your head as you smack him in the face, trying to silence the chattering coming out of his mouth.

“satoru. what…what time is it?”

“six in the morning. but it’s the next day and i need to know how my test run went.”

“your….what?”

satoru whines.

“no, no don’t tell me you’re too drunk to remember? my test run! to be your boyfriend?”

you groan, flickering your eyes open to the alarm clock on your bed, spelling out the time. 6:07 am.

“no, i remember. you need the answer at six in the morning when i’m hungover?”

“this is agony! i really get this whole thousand cuts thing now, this hurts. tell me.”

you push his face into the pillow, before mumbling it as quietly as you can.

“you pass.”

“huh?”

“you heard me. you passed. just…shut up, please.”

it’s his giggles you hear before sleeping and a warm kiss on your forehead, before you pass out again.

satoru as taylor swift songs masterlist

taglist: @invisible-mori @porridgesblog @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @skzismyhome @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @luna0713hunter @shotenvinsoot @itzmeme @gojoswifeyyys-world @cutiejg @chilichopsticks @torureadz @dreamxiing @mamamamamarga

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apomaro-mellow · 3 months

Note

For bingo; incorrect d&d acronym please? I just love how exasperated and endeared Eddie would be even if he seemed annoyed on the outside.

"You're still going to play that dungeons and demons game, seriously?"

"It's Dungeons and Dragons, Stevarino and yes, I am", Eddie put one foot on the coffee table and a fist to his chest as he proclaimed, "For if I forsake a passion that has brung me out of my of my darkest times, then the naysayers and venomous peoples of the world win."

"Okay, okay, get your feet off my table. That's precious wood."

Eddie was struck with too many quips about precious wood that by the time he thought of one, Steve was already in the kitchen, making a snack spread for game night.

-------------------

"How'd your Damsels and Dragons game go? Did you win?", Steve asked, leaning against the door of his car in Dustin's driveway.

"Dungeons and Dragons and it doesn't work that way. You don't really win in the traditional sense."

Steve shrugged. "Too bad. When I would win anything, my parents would take me to town and let me pick where we went for dinner and let me get what I wanted."

Eddie's tuned changed so fast it was like a record scratching. "I want chili cheese fries from that new place and a hot fudge sundae too. I totally kicked their asses Steve, Mike almost cried."

---------------------

Steve watched with great interest as Eddie painted a little toy, presumably for an upcoming game. "So with this Devils and Duckies game you have to make your own pieces? Seems pretty cheap of them."

"Making your own is part of the fun. And come on, I know you know it's not called Devils and Duckies", Eddie chuckled, keeping his eyes on his work. So he couldn't see just how intensely Steve was looking at him.

"Erica was talking about this one duck that threw a wrench in this one campaign though-"

"Ha!", Eddie gestured with the hand holding the brush and made paint splattered a little in Steve's room. "You know they're called campaigns!"

Steve rolled his eyes. "I'm not absolutely clueless you know."

-------------------

Steve's little game was exposed when Eddie was spending a lazy morning in Steve's room and found something just out of sight behind a hamper. A dictionary. One bookmarked to the D section.

"Stevie, have you been looking up D words just to make fun of DnD?", he accused with a smirk when Steve came back from his morning jog.

"And if I say yes?", Steve tilted his head.

"Then I would say it is incredibly amusing and endearing and downright adorable that you would go on to such lengths all in the pursuit of a bit." Eddie wrapped his arms around Steve's shoulders, unperturbed by the sweat and smell.

"Would you say that it was decidedly delightful and dandy even though you found the damning evidence to my dalliance?", Steve smirked, hands going to his boyfriend's hips.

"No, I'd say 'holy shit that was hot, say more words'."

Steve beamed. "You think alliteration is sexy?"

"Definitely, my dashing darling."

Steddie bingo under the cut

#find you someone who commits to the bit #thanks for the ask!#apo writes #stranger things #steddie #fanfiction

247 notes · View notes

auras-moonstone · 9 months

Note

hi! i love the way you write and was hoping if you had time for this rec :) ethan x reader

it's inspired by 'the summer i turned pretty'

y/n is the bailey's childhood friend, she was very close to ethan and quinn growing up, but when she comes back to newyork, richie is suddenly very interested in her and the shitty brother that he is, he know that ethan had a thing for her.

"You think she's pretty?" richie asked ethan one day.

"Yeah, and you do too," ethan replied already annoyed, trying to brush it off.

"I hadn't noticed, really," richie said, smirking.

"Come on, man. I've noticed you noticing"

richie is the it-boy of the town, always gets what he wants, cocky and arrogant. y/n was the only thing ethan had for himself only.

sorry if its long 😭😭 its mostly angsty id say, y/n is surprised someone like richie likes her but her heart has always been yearning for ethan whom she thinks will never see her that way.

childhood best friends to lovers is one of my favorite tropes so i really had a lot of fun writing this! hope you like it💓🫶🏻

you’re my best friend — ethan landry

word count: 2,465

pairing: ethan landry x fem!reader

summary: when y/n goes back to new york city she finds out two things—she’s still crushing on ethan and richie took an interest in her.

WHEN Y/N AND HIS FAMILY HAD TO LEAVE NEW YORK FOR LONDON, THE BAILEY’S WERE LEFT HEARTBROKEN, ESPECIALLY QUINN AND ETHAN. Both of their families had been close since forever, so Quinn, Ethan, Y/N and Richie grew up together and the first three developed a really close friendship.

Y/N’s dad got a promotion, so they had to move to England, where Y/N finished high school and started college. Now, though, her dad had been offered to go back to New York if he wanted. And because he missed the city and his friends, he said yes.

The first thing Y/N did when she found out was text her best friends—Quinn and Ethan, with whom she had kept contact with despite the distance. She was excited to see them, and wondered what she would feel when she finally saw Ethan again. She’d like to think she got over her crush, but that’s because they hadn’t seen each other in four years.

And there she was, about to find out. Y/N was standing in front of the Bailey’s house with her parents behind her. The door opened and Y/N’s chest grew tight in anticipation, and then she held a sigh of disappointment when Wayne’s face appeared.

The older man greeted her parents with enthusiasm, and when it was her time to say hello, the man opened his mouth in shock “Oh my! You’ve grown a lot! It’s nice to see you again, Y/N”

“You too, Wayne” she hugged him awkwardly. Y/N wasn’t his biggest fan, she still remember all too well the way he treated Ethan. Always comparing him to Richie, making him feel like garbage.

“Quinn and Richie are in the kitchen” he informed her. She nodded and made her way to said place.

As soon as she set foot on the big kitchen, she was attacked by a hug. “Oh my god! You’re here!” she recognized the voice of Quinn.

“I’m here! I missed you” she broke the hug to take a look at her friend’s new hairstyle “Red is definitely your color, Q. You look so good.”

“And London certainly benefited you, holy shit. You look hot. Give me a chance?” the red-head joked.

“Absolutely” she laughed, hugging her once more. “I can’t believe I’m back”

“Hi, Y/N” Richie finally managed to find his voice. He had been completely entranced by the girl. Quinn was right, she got hot. He had never noticed her, because well, he had always seen her as his sibling’s friend and because she had been 15 when she left. Now, she was 19 and super attractive.

“Oh, sorry. Hi, Richie. Nice to see you again” she gave him a little wave. Y/N wasn’t sure she liked the way Richie was shamelessly checking her out. “Where is Eth?” she tried not to sound so excited.

“Oh, he’s in his room, as always. Drowning himself in text books and having no social life whatsoever” Richie rolled his eyes in annoyance.

“He doesn’t know you’re coming today, so go surprise him” Quinn said, eyeing the way Y/N’s knuckles turned white. She had always hated when people talked badly about Ethan, and apparently, it didn’t change.

Y/N walked up the stairs, anguish filling her stomach and her heart beating so fast it made her cheeks turn red. She stood in front of the door, trying to gain the courage to knock. There was just one door separating her from Ethan, the guy who had been her first crush ever. Her best friend in the entire world.

“Come in” she heard, and almost fainted. Not because she was seconds away from seeing his face after four years, but because she noticed the change in his voice. It was deeper, raspier and… hot.

Y/N took a deep breath and opened the door. There he was, lying on his bed, headphones flattening his perfect curly hair and book open on his lap.

His round brown eyes found hers, and he jumped off the bed so fast he got dizzy. Y/N laughed and ran into his arms, that were instantly wrapped around her lower back to pull her up and against his chest. Her legs locked around his waist.

“Please tell me you’re real and I’m not making you up” Ethan said, face between her neck and shoulder blades.

“I’m real” she laughed. “And I’m back to stay. Holy shit, you got so fucking tall”

“And you have not grown and inch” he joked, letting her feet touch the ground again.

“Mean” Y/N punched his arm playfully. “Where is your Justin Bieber haircut?!”

“That was a phase I don’t want to remember” he shook his head. “What, you don’t like my curls?”

“No… I love them. You have amazing hair” Y/N complimented.

Ethan blushed, and took his time to let his eyes take in her face. Her factions were more defined, her lips were fuller, eyes a little darker but still very bright, and smile as warm as ever. She had grown a bit, but she was still short compared to him, her head barely reached his shoulders. She looked even prettier than before, and Ethan couldn’t believe he would be able to see her everyday.

The tall boy had also changed a lot, and Y/N needed to figure out how to stop looking at him before she weirded him out. His jawline was sharp as a diamond, his cheekbones more defined, and surprisingly, he had muscles. Enthralling, captivating muscles. He was pretty, adorable and hot at the same time and Y/N’s doubts faded away—her crush on him was still very much intact.

“You look stunning, Y/N/N. I missed you” he said in a low voice. They were so close, his arms still around her, and the moment felt intimate and cozy. It was at that moment Y/N realized how much she had missed her home.

“I missed you too” she smiled, happiness was radiating off her. Y/N was so happy she could cry. “Can I hug you again?”

“You don’t have to ask. You know I love your hugs, and I missed them. So, you’ll have to hug me a lot to make up for the lost time” Ethan answered, chest almost exploding for the amount of adoration he felt for her.

None of them knew for how long they stayed in each others arms, if it had been just minutes or hours, but they did know that either way, it hadn’t been enough. They could’ve stayed like that forever.

SAYING THAT Y/N CAUGHT THE ATTENTION OF EVERY BLACKMORE STUDENTS WOULD BE GOING A LITTLE TOO FAR, but she certainly had the attention of the people she had classes with. Not only because of her looks, but also because she entered in the middle of the semester, which was extremely unusual. Y/N hated the twenty pairs of eyes on her, but she was thankful she at least had Ethan by her side.

The nerdy boy felt a little uneased by the reaction Y/N caused. She had always been someone only Ethan used to notice—thought he never understood why, because she was the most amazing girl in the world—, and the thought of that changing made him panic. Because there were so many guys who were better than him, and now that she had options, Ethan knew Y/N would never choose him.

“How is your first day going?” to her surprise, Richie asked.

“Um, good?” she said, unsure. It was weird, Richie and her had never been friends. He had never cared about her well-being, what was his deal now? She didn’t know.

But Ethan did, he could see it in his brother’s eyes. Richie was interested in Y/N and it made his blood boil. He knew Ethan had feelings for her, but of course he didn’t care.

“Great. If you need anything, feel free to tell me” he said, winking at her before leaving.

“That’s the weirdest thing that has ever happened to me. Is he okay? Did he fell from the stairs and hit his head or something?” Y/N asked Ethan.

The brunet laughed “He kind of became the ‘it’ boy of college, which fed his ego and makes him brave enough to flirt with every hot girl that crosses his path. You’re his next target.”

Richie had always been popular amongst girls—he was attractive, had that attitude girls found hot, and was sometimes funny—and exactly the type who would never look at Y/N’s way, or so she thought.

She couldn’t imagine herself with him, not only because ‘it’ boys weren’t her kind of boys, but also because her heart yearned for Ethan. Even when she knew he would never look at her as more than a friend.

“Well, time to damage it boy’s ego” Y/N said.

Ethan looked at her surprised “You are not into him?”

“Ethan, what the actual fuck? No!“ she laughed in shock. Wasn’t it painfully obvious that she had a crush on him and not Richie? Guess not. Or maybe Ethan was way too oblivious.

“Okay” wasn’t she imagine it or did she actually hear relief in his voice?

ETHAN AND RICHIE SAT ON THE BEACH CHAIRS NEXT TO THEIR POOL, THEIR EYES ON THE VOLEY MATCH HAPPENING IN FRONT OF THEM. It was Quinn and Y/N vs. Tara and Mindy, and Ethan’s eyes were specifically focused on Y/N’s figure. Richie couldn’t pass the opportunity to tease him.

"You think she's pretty?" Richie asked him, sarcasm present in his voice.

"Yeah, and you do too," his brother replied, already annoyed, trying to brush it off.

"I hadn't noticed, really," Richie said, smirking. He enjoyed seeing his brother angry so much, and he knew Y/N was his weak point.

"Come on, man. I've noticed you noticing. And she did too” Ethan said, frowning.

“She does? Maybe I should ask her out, then.” Richie said, hoping this would make Ethan fume.

However, the nerdy boy gave him a smile. “Do it.” he tried to suppress a smirk at his brother’s confused reaction.

“Hey, enjoyed the game?” Y/N asked. They had been so sumerged in their conversation they hadn’t noticed the match ended.

Ethan flashed her his sweet pretty smile, which she mirrored “You’re good, Y/N/N.”

“Thanks, Eth” if her cheeks hadn’t been already red from the heat and the exercise, Ethan would’ve noticed the effect his words had on her.

“Do you want water, gorgeous?” Richie asked, with a sly grin. Ethan clenched his jaw and Y/N tried not to make a disgusted face.

“Yes, but I’ll go get it” Y/N said walking to the kitchen before Richie could beat her. Ethan followed her, feeling Richie’s eyes on the back of his head. “Does he not get the hint? I have given no signs that I like him”

“I should probably warn you, he’s going to ask you out” Ethan told her, leaning against the counter and she poured water in a glass.

“Oh god, you know what? It’s fine, I’m just going to tell him he’s not the one I’m interested in” Y/N said.

Ethan stiffened “What do you mean by that? You’re interested in someone?” his chest contracted.

Y/N then realized what she had said. “Oh… well, yeah.”

The boy nodded, trying not to show how much it hurt “Are they from London?”

Y/N shook her head “No, he is from here.” she admitted.

“Oh… you met him at college?” he asked. Why was he asking? He was a fucking masochist.

“No… but he goes to our college”

“So that means you met him before you moved to London” Ethan deduced.

Y/N nodded “Waay before I moved. I have known him my whole life” she said. He’s got to figure it out now.

“I have no fricking idea” Ethan laughed. “I don’t remember you hanging out with someone who wasn’t Quinn or me.”

“Ethan are you serious?” Y/N groaned. Guess he really was oblivious. Ethan looked at her, very lost. “I’m talking about you, you idiot. Honestly, for someone that smart you can really be dumb sometimes.”

“Me? You like me?” Ethan pointed at himself in disbelief.

“I have liked you since we were fourteen, Eth. Never stopped liking you” Y/N smiled nervously. What was going to happen next? Rejection or reciprocation?

“Are you sure?” he asked in a low tone.

Y/N let out a giggle “Yes, Ethan, pretty sure I know my emotions. Do you know yours?”

“I win” Ethan said, making her frown, not understanding what he meant. “I have liked you since we were thirteen. So I won.”

The girl rolled her eyes, smile painted on her face as she walked closer to him and hugged him. “Well, guess the loser is the one who has to ask the question” Ethan raised his eyebrows in amusement, liking were this conversation was going. “Ethan, would you like to be my boyfriend?”

“I would love to be your boyfriend, Y/N” he replied. Y/N could feel his heartbeats through his shirt as his arms were wrapped around her lower back. “Can I kiss you, girlfriend?”

“Yes, you can, boyfriend” she closed her arms around his neck and brought him down to meet her lips. Mint got mixed with cherry, and their soft lips danced with each other in one perfect and very awaited kiss.

The slow and calm kiss turned into a rougher and wilder one. His hands went under her white tank top as hers messed with his soft curls. Ethan turned them around, so that she was now pressed against the counter. But soon, he lifted her up and set her on it. She opened her legs so he could step between them and deepened the kiss.

“You’re my best friend” Y/N whispered breathlessly against his lips.

Ethan smiled “You’re my best friend, too. I love you”

“I love you” she said back, before kissing him once again.

Quinn, Richie, Tara and Mindy entered the kitchen and stood still at the scene happening in front of them. The two teenagers were so engrossed in their lustful kiss that they didn’t notice them until Quinn yelled “Not in the counter, we use it to cook!”

“Kids nowadays have zero respect” Mindy shook her head.

“This is a family house!” Tara exclaimed. Richie just stood there completely dumbfounded, which made Ethan feel even more victorious.

“Oh, we have been waiting this for years, leave us alone” Y/N rolled her eyes, but got off the counter anyways. Ethan draped his arm around her shoulders and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

“They’re cute, you have to give them that” Tara said to Quinn.

“Are you two official?” Quinn asked, now unable to hide her smile.

“Yes” they said in unison, smiling to each other.

#ethan landry #ethanlandry #ethan landry fluff #ethan landry fic #ethan landry oneshot #ethan landry x you #ethan landry x y/n #ethan landry x reader #jack champion oneshot #jack champion #jackchampion #jack champion x reader #jack champion x y/n #jack champion imagine #jack champion fluff #jack champion fanfic

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farfromstrange · 2 months

Text

I Want To Fuck A Priest | Matt Murdock x AFAB!Reader

PART 6 of The Vault

See this post for more information on my Valentine's Day Special & Follower Celebration, but these fics can be read separately!

Pairing: Matt Murdock x AFAB!Reader

Summary: You have a thing for the priest you met at a farmer's market. Thankfully, he has a thing for you, too.

Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI), porn without much plot, Priest!Matt, blasphemy (!!!), church setting, improper use of a priest's collar, improper use of a confessional booth, improper use of the act of confession, praise, prayer, oral afab!receiving, slight Dom!Matt, Catholic guilt, Fleabag reference, seriously if you are religious or triggered by the improper use of religion DO NOT read this!

Word Count: 2.8k

A/n: This is for those who watched Fleabag and then saw all the 'Imagine Matt as a priest' and 'Charlie Cox once played a Spanish priest' posts and thought, "Same!" when Fleabag said, "I want to fuck a priest." I see you, and I feel you. I wrote this after re-watching Fleabag one night, but I added a little poetic twist while editing because before, it was just completely plotless oral sex. While that isn't bad, I needed to add some vibes. You're welcome.

Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.

The church bells ring as the clock strikes midnight. The night sky is void of dark clouds. In the darkness above the massive walls encasing the holy ground, the stars shine brighter than the city lights. New York City, the city that never sleeps, makes an exception for the house of God in the dead of the night, it seems.

It’s been…several years since my last confession.

The graveyard attached to the church looks threatening in its vacancy. It’s void of human souls except for the dead ones buried there. A raven claps its wings in the distance, following the gush of wind that brushes through the trees.

The bell rings twelve times before it stops, but the echo bounces off the stone walls and shakes the stained-glass windows, which seems to drag on for an eternity.

The last time I confessed my sins was before my communion. I don’t know if that makes me a bad Catholic, but lately, I’ve been having sinful thoughts, and I need to get them out of the way before I collapse under the weight of them.

You considered for the longest time whether or not you should come here. Faith has been your enemy for the longest time. You don’t believe in the Catholic Church, and yet you have found your way here, in the middle of the night, when everyone should be asleep in their beds.

This isn’t a normal night, by any means. You often lay awake at night and question your purpose in this life, but lately, you’ve been feeling like you’re drowning. Sins are subjective, and you never paid much mind to the term until now.

The thoughts you find yourself having late at night when you’re awake and lonely are far from holy. They aren’t ideal. They make you wonder just why you are thinking this way now.

But no man has ever been like him. And the worst part about it is that wanting him alone is an unholy train of thought you should have never submitted to.

You tried ignoring it, carrying it all by yourself, and trying to heal whatever complex you may have that could have led to this obsession in the first place, but your life has been a mess for long enough that it doesn’t even surprise you anymore, and no matter what you tried to do, you couldn’t stop fantasizing about him.

He is the reason you came to church tonight to confess your sins. But you’re not here to find your way. You’re not here to ask for guidance from God. You told yourself that the unholiness of your thoughts needs to be cured and that is why you came here—to make this situation better for yourself—but the thought is ancient; it’s the twenty-first century and you’re the kind of person who knows exactly what they want and how to get it. The truth is, you’re here to get what you want, even if it will land you in the pits of hell for all eternity. And even if it kills you.

“You don’t do this kind of thing often, do you?” the low voice asks from the other side of the confessional booth.

You shake your head. “Not at all, Father. When I went to Sunday Mass this weekend, it was my first time in a church in a very long time,” you admit to him, “and this is my first confession since I was a child. I…I’m not really a devoted Catholic, you understand. I’m merely struggling right now, and I…I am in desperate need of guidance.”

Your lip quivers. Your voice resembles a tidal wave that comes and goes as nature pleases.

He can’t see you. It’s not the curtain that is separating you and is starting to feel like worlds apart—he can’t see you. He can only hear and smell you, and that alone makes your thighs clench with need.

Should you be doing this in a church? Should you fantasize about a man of God and want to claim him, coming to his sanctuary to tell him the truth and mess with his head? You know that it’s wrong, but the wrong thing often feels too right to stop.

When you met him at the farmer’s market the other day, he was so endlessly kind to everyone, including yourself. He invited you to Sunday mass, and you went. You went on a walk with him afterward, and there seemed to be something there, but he couldn’t act on it because he is who he is and what he is. He made a vow. He can’t have you, no matter how badly he wants to, and one look into his unfocused hazel eyes when he took off those red glasses he always wears told you that he does want you. It led to another sleepless night among many, and now you’re here.

You’re so utterly selfish, but God, you can’t stop it. When you want something, you would do anything to get it. He makes you feel things you never felt before. It’s terrifying, but you have to allow yourself to jump into unknown waters if you want to learn how to swim.

He clears his throat, and you can hear the chair creak under his weight as he shifts. Is it possible that you’re doing the same to him that he is doing to you?

“I want to start by saying that you’re really brave,” he says. The sound of his voice is enough to make you shiver. “But God offers people guidance in a symbolic sense. I can take your confession, tell you how to repent for your sins, but I can’t tell you what to do.”

You sigh. “I wish you would though.”

A chuckle passes his lips. “Why don’t you start by telling me what’s weighing you down, sweetheart, and we will go from there?”

Sweetheart.

Yes, you think, this is your one-way ticket to hell.

“I’ve been having thoughts,” you confess.

“Thoughts?” he asks.

“Yes. Unholy thoughts.” Your breath comes in weak puffs of air. The booth seems to cave in on you. You wish he would step out of his booth into yours and stuff his cock into your mouth. For him, you would shut up. You would do whatever he tells you to do, and you would do so gladly.

Fuck. You want to fuck a priest.

But lucky for you, Father Matthew wants to fuck you too. He’s here, at midnight, because you were lost and he was still there—he told you he spends his nights at church sometimes because the city gets too loud for him. You couldn’t go anywhere else because any place where he isn’t doesn’t seem worth visiting.

Matt sucks in a sharp breath. You imagine him swallowing, his white collar constricting his labored airflow. You imagine him pulling at it to free himself, but he can’t. Those sinfully thick fingers of his would feel even better on your skin.

“Unholy thoughts,” Father Matthew asks, “about whom, sweetheart?”

He’s pushing your buttons with that nickname. It’s so not professional. The lines are starting to blur.

“A man,” you tell him.

“A man?”

“A man of God.”

The confession causes a bout of silence. You could have heard a hairpin drop.

His chair creaks again, and his voice reminds you of an animalistic growl right before an apex predator attacks its prey. “And what unholy thoughts have you been having about this man of God?” he inquires.

Your inner walls clench around thin air. Sweat drips down your temples, and the arousal soaks your underwear. Your nipples strain against your shirt. If you grip the seat any harder, you will soon find wooden chips under your nails.

You lick your lips. “I’ve been thinking about him touching me,” you whisper. “And I want to touch him.”

“Where?”

“Everywhere.”

“And in your thoughts, does he satisfy you?”

Your answer comes promptly, “Always.”

There is not a scenario in which Father Matthew could possibly leave you unsatisfied.

The chair creaks again. Something in the air shifts.

Your voice is breathless and needy, and so fucking desperate when you speak into the silence, “Just tell me what to do, Father.”

“Okay,” he says. His leather shoes drag across the floor of the booth and toward the curtain that marks the exit of his side. The next word out of his mouth knocks all the air out of your lungs, “Kneel.”

You don’t even have time to question his request. Within seconds, the curtain through which you’ve stepped into the confessional booth is torn to the side, and there he is, in all of his glory, right in front of you, and his thick cock is straining against his black slacks.

You pinch yourself, but you’re not dreaming. This is real. This is what you wanted, and you weren’t imagining the mutual attraction due to delusions. He does want you, and he is about to break every rule in his book—and the lord’s book.

You sink to your knees. The only thing you can see on his face is pure, unbridled lust and the ugly truth of Catholic guilt. He must loathe himself for wanting you.

Matt removes his glasses, revealing his beautiful eyes to you. In the dim candlelight, they appear almost black.

“What’s my sentence, Father?” you ask.

His hand brushes your cheek. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me,” he breathes.

“I’m sorry, Father.”

“No.” He steps into the booth and closes the curtain behind him. “Tonight, call me Matt.”

That is the last thing he says before he gets on his knees before you, and he captures your lips in a bruising kiss that is strong enough to make the angels howl.

His hand rests around your throat, feeling your pulse. He may not be able to see you with his eyes, but the way he touches you paints a perfect picture of your presence, and you feel every last ounce of his devotion.

He explores the depth of your mouth with his tongue, tasting you, loving you. His hands feel beautifully rough against your skin, just like you imagined they would be after years of praying. He sees himself as the hands of God. A messenger. His goodness makes your heart swell and your core flood with more than unbridled arousal—this is human nature in all its emotional glory, and you no longer feel ashamed. You can’t possibly when he is holding you like this.

He exhales into your mouth—no, he breathes life into your soul. “You’re the most sinful yet purest thing I have ever laid my hands on,” Matt says.

You gasp against his luscious lips. “I wouldn’t want to make you turn your back on God, or–”

He cuts you off, “I did that when I first thought about your body on mine and coming so deep inside of you that you’ll carry me with you for days. I don’t care about God because if having him means that I can’t have you,” he says, “I don’t want him anymore.”

You swallow his words with a kiss. Turning a priest against God was never your intention, but you are not in charge of his feelings, nor will you ever be. Matt wants you badly enough to abandon religion, and you will carry that with you until the day you die.

He lifts you back onto the edge of the wooden chair, pulling at your clothes and your undergarments. The moonlight hits his face as the cold air of the church hits your bare pussy. He looks ethereal like this, on his knees for you. His hazel eyes bore into your soul. He wears his heart on his sleeves and a collar around his neck.

Your priest crosses his chest. He asks God for forgiveness. And then, with one gentle tug at your thighs, he buries his face in your wet cunt, and he feasts as if your sex was the last supper. As God’s disciple, he is determined to eat up every last bite offered to him. Every last drop from your cunt is his, and your lips part in a moan that echoes through the church like the bells did when it hit midnight.

“Fuck,” you cry out.

He flattens his tongue against you, licking a long stripe over and then through your folds. He twirls the tip of his tongue over your clit, stroking the sensitive bundle of nerves with such precision, your walls clench at the sheer explosion of pleasure. You have never felt anything like it. He turns something unholy into heaven, and you’re drowning in the river to the Garden of Eden.

His lips suction around your clit. The obscene squelching of your velvety walls fills the booth. It sounds deadly noisy to you. You want to cover your mouth to stop the moans from traveling, but he traps your hand with his, guiding them to his hand, telling you to guide him.

Instead, one of your hands moves to his collar. It’s his turn to moan. You tug at the symbol of his priesthood, forcing his tongue deeper into your hole. He laps up your juices as though his life depends on it.

“Forgive me, Lord, for I have sinned,” Matt murmurs against you.

You moan again, louder this time. He is repenting for wanting to dive into your pussy until he gets swept away by the tide, but it is far too late to back out now. Your pleasure has become his priority.

“Lord God,” he repeats, “in your goodness have mercy on me.”

The pleasure is turning into a tight knot in your lower abdomen. You can feel it consuming you and your senses. You’re floating. The light at the end of the tunnel is not so far out of reach anymore. Every suck and every lick at your folds, and every thrust of his tongue into your tight walls pushes you closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy.

In your goodness, have mercy on me.

He bites down lightly on your clit. Your toes curl, and his name comes out in a groan.

Do not look on my sins, but take away all my guilt.

Right now, you are his God. By drinking your arousal like holy water and pushing you toward an orgasm he is repenting. The symbolism makes your heels dig into his back as you buck your hips against his mouth, and when he adds one of those thick fingers, curling them up against that sweet spot inside of you, you can barely stand it anymore.

Create me in a clean heart and renew within me an upright spirit.

“God, Matthew!” your moan interrupts his plea for penance only briefly.

He swats your thigh. “No blasphemy when I feast at the altar,” he says. The vibration of his voice adds to the knot, tightening it, and threatening it to burst.

You’re almost there. Almost…

“Have mercy on me, a sinner,” he continues. His tongue slides between your folds once again, gathering your slit. His fingers curl upward again. He’s mixing different prayers, or maybe these are his own words, but you are not sure how much longer you can hold it. But he wants you to hold it. You don’t want to disappoint the man who is worshiping at your feet, your pussy, his altar, and you are his salvation as much as you are his saving grace.

“In choosing to do wrong and failing to do good,” he prays, “I have sinned against You whom I should love above all things—but fuck, I don’t.”

Does that mean he loves you? It is too soon to tell that, but he is devoted, and devotion can be just as sinfully sweet as the rawest feeling of love.

“Have mercy on me, God. Amen!”

His collar is starting to tear under your vice grip.

Matt thrusts his digit into you until it disappears, and he finally decides to show the mercy he was begging for to you. “Come for me, sweetheart,” he says.

Your thighs lock around his head as the knot breaks in two. You come, hard, and the wave tears him down with you, shooting his cum into his slacks like the good Catholic boy he is.

You let go of his collar when your orgasm has done its damage.

“No,” he stops you.

“No?” you ask, still breathless.

“No,” he says, lifting his head to grin at you, not like a man of God but the Devil himself. “I have not done nearly enough penance.”

As a priest, Matt is used to being on his knees until they’re bruised; until he can’t stand straight anymore, so he has to remain there, cowering before a God he more often than not does not believe in.

Before you can protest, he dives back into your endless ocean, and you have no choice but to lean back and take it.

He is not the only one doing penance tonight, after all—you both are.

Matt Murdock Smut Tag List: @acharliecoxedfan @gpenguin666 @linamarr @mcugeekposts @itwasthereaminuteago @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @etanordoesbullsh1t @thychuvaluswife @harleycao @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch @sya-skies @amberritonicole @ravenclaw617 @pigeonmama

#matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock smut #matt murdock x afab!reader #pwp #afab!reader #matt murdock x you #no y/n #priest!matt #matt murdock priest au #daredevil #daredevil x reader #charlie cox #from the vault #reader insert #inspired by fleabag #because who doesn't want to fuck a priest

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genericpuff · 4 months

Note

Hello :) Same brush anon as before. I actually forgot a few brushes! Silly me. I wrote that up at midnight and forgot to double-check. Let me amend that.

Watercolors used primarily for backgrounds/transitions (all found in Kyle's Watercolor pack)

Puddle Brush

Soft Irregular Wash Variant

Soft Wash Edgy

Splatter Versa (used in early LO episodes because they look like flower petals)

Pastel, Gouache, and other textured brushes (used either for FX or backgrounds):

Creamy and Creamy Variation (Kyle's Megapack) (These two were used for Eros' abstract wings in early LO)

Gouache Wet (Kyle's Megapack) (This would also be used for Eros' wings)

Gooey and Gooey C (Kyle's Megapack) (used sparingly to create abstract foliage in the background or to add background texture)

Gouache Supreme, Gouache Supreme Opaque, Natural Feel, and Natural Feel Super (all Kyle's Megapack) (used for background texture, the texture on Persephone's fur coat, and occasionally "painting" the clothing onto the characters)

Additional notes:

Any of the seasonal drops (the Fall, Winter, Spring, and Summer collections) include various one-off brushes she's used such as abstract shapes and a few additional foliage brushes. These are unnecessary for consistency but are fun to have if you want to experiment and/or to use for yourself!

Both Kyle's Impressionist pack and the Paintbox section of the Megapack have some interesting oil/impressionist brushes that were used once or twice as background textures in early LO. Again, they are not needed for consistency but can be useful to have on hand.

The Halftone pack is only used sparingly in LO as texture for clothing/fabric. Again, they are unneeded for consistency but can be useful to experiment/use for your own needs.

Happy drawing!

i'm literally so overwhelmed by this, all that time hunting down these brushes and speculating on what we were missing and you just. you have the LO brush manifesto. the holy grail of this community. hiding in plain sight.

i'm so grateful to you anon, please take all of my thanks for sharing all these in all your apparently infinite wisdom, this means so much to me and everyone in this community.

at the risk of asking god for too much, with all the brushes you've shared here paired with the brushes that we know of from what Rachel has shared herself ...

... does this mean it's done? we've found them all? the search is over?

because if that's what you're saying then all that leaves for us now is to just. create. and learn. and create more. and even if these aren't all of them, they're more than we've ever had access to before and you made that possible in ways you can't imagine. i know i'm sounding really fucking sentimental here over what's literally just a bunch of photoshop brushes but every find so far has been like digging up breadcrumbs one by one and you just. you just dropped the whole gingerbread house in our laps, right in time for the new year.

i don't know who you are and i don't know if i ever will, so from the bottom of my heart, thank you. thank you so fucking much.

#the anon who saved christmas #ama #ask me anything #anon ama #anon ask me anything #lore olympus critical #lo critical #anti lore olympus

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upsidedownwithsteve · 2 years

Text

Steve Harrington x fem!reader[4.1k] that nick millar line that's like "stop being mean to me i'll fall in love with you." scoops!steve, record store!reader and some weird drabbles about how steve gets flustered i don't like this i'm sorry

Steve knew he was a goner when he spotted you stacking shelves at the record store. He’d asked Eddie your name and the boy had cackled, slapped him on the shoulder and said, ‘Harrington, she’d eat you alive.’

“That’s what I’m hoping for,” Steve had answered.

You wore boots with laces that were never fully tied, fishnet tights, bike shorts and too big T-shirts that served as dresses, gold rings on your fingers and ruby red lipstick on Saturdays.

You looked like trouble, like a whole lot of fun and Steve took Eddie’s warning as a personal challenge.

The first time he spoke to you, it was on his day off and he shoved some dollar bills at Dustin, Lucas and Max, told them to go to the arcade and stay in the arcade.

He found you behind the register, perched on a tall stool and flicking through records, cassettes littering the desk and your foot tap, tap, tapping against the wooden legs. Your store was quieter than the rest of the mall, so Steve tried to act casual, thanked everything holy that he wasn’t wearing his scoops uniform and browsed the boxes of music.

He kept letting his eyes flicker to you, the store dimly lit and smelling like old books and smoke, a stark contrast to the sweet sugar and bright lights of Scoops Ahoy.

It was nice, Steve noted, cosy, warm, a strange kind of quiet despite the music that played overhead. He didn’t even own a record player, not anymore, not since he’d been gifted a shiny new Walkman for his Christmas after his parents were out of town on his birthday.

But still, there was something calming about thumbing through the sleeves, some pre owned and fraying at the edges, arranged in their own box that was labelled ‘already loved.’ The handwriting was neat and romantic looking, big swirls and loops in the L’s and Steve wondered if it was yours, if you were sweeter than your big doc martens suggested.

But then he took his choices to the cash desk and you looked up from the price labels you were sticking to each record, a smile that was like sunshine and sin on your lips. You looked him up and down, one eyebrow raised and now that he was closer, Steve could see a gold hoop in one nostril.

He swallowed, tried to say something cool, something flirty, something alluring, but his throat was sticky like honey and he was suddenly speechless. Steve Harrington had lines, he knew how to flirt - sometimes it didn’t work, he could admit that now - but not a single word came from his mouth.

You were really something. A smirk rather than a smile, jewellery making you glitter, eyes lighting up at the sight of him and Steve felt like he had a neon sign above him, a shiny big arrow saying ‘fresh meat.’

He suddenly knew what Eddie had meant. He was out of his depth.

“Hey, pretty boy.”

God, scratch that, he was drowning.

Your voice was sweet, lined with a laugh, like you knew something he didn’t and Steve Harrington had never been shy in his life but your words had his cheeks tinted pink and he could feel the same heat at the tips of his ears.

“Did you find everything you needed?”

He stuttered, stammered, licked his lips and nodded instead. It was that magic kind of flirting, the kind where no one really spoke but the idea was heavy and thick and tension in it made your head spin. And maybe you weren’t as affected as Steve was, but the boy felt a little giddy with it, eyes nervously dancing between yours and your hands, watching the way you bagged up his records.

He didn’t even know what he’d bought.

But he took the bag from you with a smile that made him look really soft, hand warm as it brushed your own and he didn’t even wait for his change, he just backed out of the store with a dazed look in his eyes and the sound of your laughter following him.

—————

The second time Steve saw you, was half way through his lunch break, his hands full of soda cans and wrapped up sandwiches for himself and Robin, ‘cause there were only so many tubs of rocky road he could have instead of real food.

You were rounding the corner the same time as he was, barely managing to avoid colliding, shoulders bumping and a can of Dr. Pepper falling to the floor and making a break for it. It rolled enough for Steve to deem it a lost cause, telling himself he’d share his drink with Robin instead of trying to juggle it back into his already full arms.

But then you were catching it, wiggling it at him between a finger and a thumb as you carefully tucked it in the free space under his chin. He gaped, realising who he’d bumped into too late. You were a pretty painting, black lines above your lashes all cat like, lips coloured in a soft rosy shade. The sweater you wore was too big, bike shorts barely peeking out from the hem and you made music as you moved, necklaces catching against each other.

You were lovely. But your smile was dangerous.

“Thanks, uh, thank you- for that,” Steve managed, trying to gesture to the soda but almost losing two sandwiches and a bag of chips in the process. “Shit.”

“S’alright,” you told him softly and Steve had almost forgotten what your voice had sounded like, because after the first visit to the record store, he’d been too embarrassed to return.

He’d kept watch from behind the ice cream freezer, sighing over you as he refilled mint chocolate chip and scattered more sprinkles on floor than he did atop of cones. Robin thought it was disgusting.

“Lunch time?” You asked and it was obvious, the way you were making conversation, seemingly actually wanting to talk to him but Steve couldn’t wrap his head around why.

He nodded, too fast, hair flopping into his eyes and he had no free hands to smooth it back. Was he red again? He felt warm. You were smiling, eyes on his, scanning his face, taking in each of his features without any shame, bold in each of your actions.

Fuck. You were really pretty.

“Uh yeah, yeah,” Steve managed, “for me and uh,” he looked back, saw Robin leaning over the cash register with a grin on her lips as she watched on, more than amused. “And uh…”

“Your girlfriend?” You prompted. You sounded intrigued, voice still soft. “The pretty one in the hat?”

“Oh no, god no,” Steve replied and you grinned at how quick he spoke. He shook his head, fumbled another sandwich was still gazing at you from behind his messy hair. “I mean, fuck, she’s pretty and yeah, she’s wearing a hat but— no, not my girlfriend.”

“Oh,” you were smiling, arms crossed as you tried not to full on grin at the way the boy was floundering, trying his best to assure you that his co-worker was definitely not his girlfriend.

“I mean, we’re friends,” he was telling you, “best friends but like, super platonic. So platonic. I’m single.” Steve swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing nervously. “So single.”

You didn’t miss the little ‘fuck,’ he whispered into the lunch he was still clutching to his chest and his cheeks went from rosy to ruby, a flush across the high points of his face that you would adorable.

You didn’t say anything, not yet, but you leaned a little closer and pushed yourself onto your toes so you could sweep a hand through the front of his hair, pushing back the locks that had fallen into his face.

Steve wondered if he had stopped breathing.

“That’s better,” you hummed and you couldn’t help but huff out a laugh at his stricken expression. He looked panicked in the best way.

Steve nodded and you took it as a thanks because his lips were parted and his brown eyes were turning into honey and he looked a little wrecked. It was fun, you realised, watching the way he reacted to you.

“It’s Steve, right?” You tapped at his name badge, still standing too close for what some people would consider polite but Steve smelled like sugar and mint and the forest, like cedar or pine.

Steve cleared his throat, tried not to stare at your lips when you said his name and he nodded, “yeah, uh— Steve Harrington.”

Another grin from you, wide and bright and fucking magical, because Steve decided that every time you smiled at him he felt like he was turning inside out.

“Okay, Single Steve Harrington—” he cut you off with a groan and it was suddenly your new favourite sound. “—I need to get back to work, enjoy your lunch.”

“Right, yeah, shit,” he winced at the way his voice cracked and Jesus Christ, he thought to himself, what was he? Sixteen again? “Uh, do I get to know your name?” It was a lie. He knew your name. He’d asked Eddie weeks ago.

And you must’ve been thinking the same because you laughed, reallt fucking cutely, Steve noticed, nose scrunched and eyes bright as you said, “don’t play coy, pretty boy, I know who your friends are.”

You left him standing there, cheeks still flushed, soft hair perfectly rumpled from how you’d pushed it back and you couldn’t help yourself. You turned, a head over your shoulder, lashes lowered as you looked him up and down, doing the least you could to try and hide it.

“Hey Steve?”

The boy's head snapped round to you, eyes wide as ever. His pretty face was a question mark.

“Nice shorts.”

—————

The third time, Steve was almost confident enough to say you sought him out.

Because it was a slow Tuesday and the summer outside had reached its peak, the sun warming the mall through the glass roof like a greenhouse, the air stifling and hazy. It was too warm for even ice cream, most of Hawkins had seemed to decide, and even the kids had passed up on free samples in favour of spending a day at the pool.

But there you were, record store lanyard missing from your neck which told Steve it was definitely your day off. And besides, if he happened to have remembered your shifts, well, that was just a coincidence.

You swaned into Scoops with your usual confidence, a glint in your eye and a surprisingly bright sundress on your frame. You were still glittering with jewellery, chains and trinkets on your neck, delicate rings on each finger, tiny gold daisies hanging from your ears. Your dress was a startling red, cherry coloured and all the bare skin on show meant that Steve could see fine black lines of ink peeking out from beneath the cotton.

He smiled at the way you still wore your boots, laces undone and rolled socks peeking out the top. You had spent some time talking between shifts now, “accidentally” bumping into each other when the mall was still closed, early morning starts spent standing in line together for a coffee as Steve tried his damn hardest to remember how to speak in your presence.

It got a little easier and Steve could hold a conversation without his voice cracking, but every now and then he’d spot you already gazing at him and you had a look on your face that could take a man down to his knees.

And god, did you know how good you looked in that dress? Did you understand what you did to him? Steve thought that maybe you did because you were leaning over the counter on your elbows and invading all of his personal space with the smell of your perfume and cocoa butter body lotion.

You tapped out a beat with your fingernails, Ruby red to match your dress, hands dancing in gold, rings that Steve knew woild look so fucking pretty wrapped around his—

“Hey, pretty boy.”

The boy dropped his ice cream scoop and from an empty table behind you both, Robin snorted.

“Hey, hi… hi,” he settled on, ducking behind the counter to retrieve his scoop and he tried not to wince at how decidedly unsmooth he was around you.

He’d panicked to Robin more than enough times about it. How he managed to trip over his words, even his own feet, when he was around you. But, despite his friends usual teasing and unsupportive behaviour when it came to his dating like, she’d surprised him with:

“Well shit, Steve, she keeps coming back, doesn’t she?”

“Hi,” you repeated, grinning. “How’s it going?”

Steve smiled back, wider than he’d have liked, too happy, too pleased that you were here on your day off, in his store, standing talking to him whilst you looked like that.

The hem of your dress swung at your thighs as you tapped your foot to music only you could hear and you were looking up at him with the most wicked expression. Steve had realised you seemed to save those looks for only him, the rest of your time spent in the record store ignoring the boys who tried to chat you up with cheap lines and shit chat.

Steve sighed and looked around the empty store. “It’s going,” he replied. “What’re you doing here? Aren’t you… off today?”

“Keeping tabs?” You grinned and Steve flushed.

It was your favourite thing.

“What? No, no I—” if Steve could get away with volleying a ball of raspberry ripple at Robin right then, he could’ve. She was hiding her face in the pile of delivery notes but he could hear her laughter. “I just— yeah, shit, maybe I am.”

His admission made you preen, straightening up to catch the ends of that stupid, little sailor scarf between your fingers. You lifted one brow, looked at the boy through your lashes and wondered if you listened carefully enough, would you be able to hear the thumpthumpthump of his heart.

Steve was almost certain you would.

“That’s cute,” you mused, sighing dramatically, wistful almost, as you tugged at the scarf. Steve jolted closer, lips parted, eyes hooded as he tried his best to keep his gaze on yours. But your lips were right there. And so were your tits. “It’s a real shame you don’t use that knowledge to work out when to take me out on a date.”

Even Robin stilled.

“A date?” Steve asked and you were so close, closer than you’d ever been ‘cause he could tell your lipgloss was cherry flavoured, he could smell the artificial sweetness, could count the freckles on your nose.

You nodded, smiled, let your eyes flicker down to where he was licking at his lips and you felt the way he sighed. He had a knuckle white grip on his side of the counter, arms flexed as he leaned in, letting you hold him as close to you as you dared.

“Y’know… dinner, maybe a movie, a hot little fumble in the backseat of your car before you kiss me goodnight and go home to take a cold shower?”

“Christ,” Steve breathed and you watched the way he flushed, eyes drooping prettily as he seemingly thought out your scenario. “Yeah— yeah, I can do that, fuck, we can do that.”

The grin that took over your face was more than pretty and Steve was about done for when you finally let go of his sailors scarf, only to reach up and brush back his hair again. He let you, eyes full of sticky fondness, a little awe as your fingertips brushed across the top of his forehead.

“Great,” you told him, backing away, boots scuffing across the parlour tiles. “You can pick me up at eight on Saturday.”

—————

Steve had never been so nervous on a date.

The good kind, an excitement he’d almost forgotten about and he revelled in the way his stomach tumbled, cheeks flush and lips bitten as he waited for you to appear from your front door.

You’d smiled at his shyness, ducked your head in a similar fashion when he told you how pretty you looked and then it was a night of feet touching under the diner table, stealing the crispy fries from his plate and Steve pretending that he cared.

He eventually calmed down enough to talk about everything and anything with you, his job, education, his parents, his friends. And when he’d finished making you laugh like it was his new hobby, you both realised too late that you’d missed the movie.

But you didn’t seem to care, happy to walk shoulder for shoulder with the boy through the emptying mall, watching him with a smile as he worked up enough courage to hold your hand.

You let him, hands tangling, a finger gently prodding his pink cheek and he swatted at you with a smile, a fond roll of his eyes and then that was it.

You didn’t leave his side after that.

The windows of his car were rolled down as he parked up near the water tower, wheat fields and the forest hiding you both from the rest of the down. The summer air smelled sweet, like leftover barbecue smoke and wet grass and Steve had the radio on low as you teased him about his music taste, the way he’d bitten his bottom lip raw from being so close to you.

He could take it better now, your little mean streak, the one that liked to push his buttons and turn him pink. He still flushed when you called him pretty boy, heard his breath hitch when you stretched your bare legs over his, back pressed to the passenger door as you let the wind pick at your hair.

But he got a little braver and let his hands smooth over your shins, eyes flickering from yours to the way your sundress was played messily across the tops of your thighs. Steve was a gentleman about it though, listened when you spoke, asked you questions and got to know you, making those eyes at you, even if he didn’t realise.

“Did you come in that day just to buy those records?”

Steve snorted, let his cheek turn and press against the headrest so he could look at you with those big brown eyes, wild hair that you ached to brush away.

“I don’t even have a record player anymore.”

Your laugh was a whole other type of song and it warmed Steve more than the summer night did.

“You don’t?” You grinned, nudging a foot into his thigh. “Steve Harrington, you’re a damn fool.”

“If you keep bein’ mean to me,” Steve grinned, voice full of tease and sticky sweet affection, “m’gonna fall in love with you, you know?”

And he did.

—————

You didn’t grudge Robin for the way she rolled her eyes at you upon seeing you walk into Scoops. You couldn’t. She knew, she knew that you knew. So you just smiled.

“Is Steve….?”

“In the back,” she groaned good naturedly. “You’re lucky we’re dead.”

You grinned, blew the girl a kiss and slipped through the staff only door. The door to the walk-in freezer hummed and music came from the break room, quiet and crackling with static from the old radio. You found the boy at the table, feet kicked up on a stool as he played with his empty bottle of soda.

Steve lit up when he saw you, an unexpected visit as you were on a late shift at your own store, the chances of you both getting lunch at the same time slim. But you’d bartered with your boss, promising that all of the new stock that had been delivered would get done before close. He’d rolled his eyes and grudgingly agreed, muttering about your new boyfriend and how he was affecting your work ethic.

You hadn’t used that word yet. ‘Boyfriend.’ And neither had Steve, but that was okay. You were enjoying that inbetween stage that came with uncertainty and butterflies, second guesses and kicking your feet in your bed at night when he dropped you off, each new kiss feeling like another first.

And you were still making the boy blush, the prettiest pink across his cheeks, stealing reasons to touch him whenever you could, playing with the ends of his hair as he spoke, pressing a hand to the skin under his shirt when you wanted his attention.

Which was a waste of time, if you asked Steve - you always had his attention, whether your hands were on him or not. Not that he ever complained.

In fact, he looked downright ecstatic when you dropped yourself in his lap, pleated skirt hitching up your thighs as you grinned down at him, pink cheeks, messy hair and sailor boy uniform to boot.

“Hey, pretty boy.”

“Hello to you too, trouble,” he’d gotten better at that part, talking to you without falling over his own words, more flirt and confidence in his voice than the first time you’d met. “I didn’t think I was gonna see you until after work.”

“Sold my soul for you,” you pouted, lifting his little hat and placing it atop your own head. “Promised that a full delivery would be finished before close.”

Steve tried to pout back, but he couldn’t help but smile at how you bargained just to be able to come see him. The sailor hat was perched adorably on top of your head, a little squint and with a cherry ice cream stain on the side. His hands palmed at your hips, squeezing gently and you lifted a brow to gaze down at him questioningly.

“Robin already isn’t happy I’m back here distracting you,” you smiled, “don’t start something you can’t finish - or win.”

“Win?” Steve scoffed, “sweetheart give me a little cred-”

The boy’s words died in his throat as you stood only to swing a leg over his lap, straddling his thighs with your own, fishnet tights stretched over your skin. You brought your hand to his chin, caught it between finger and thumb and smoothed the pad of it over his bottom lip. You tugged a little meanly, let it fall back with a cute ‘pop’ and grinned at how he was already flushed for you, eyes a little glassy and unfocused, cheeks turning pink.

“You’re too easy, Steve,” you whispered, stretching your arms over his shoulders, fingers tugging through the messy curls at the nape of his neck. You leaned in as if to kiss him, turned before he could catch you and pressed your nose to his cheek instead, letting him feel your smile against his jaw before you mouthed at it.

“You smell so good,” you sighed, voice hitched a little higher than normal, a little breathier. “Could just eat you up.”

“You’re a demon,” Steve huffed, canting his hips up into yours, hands squeezing more tightly at your waist but he did nothing to stop you from tugging at his hair. He let his head fall back, exposing his throat to you and your mouth. “Baby.”

“Baby. Love when you call me that,” you cooed, planting a line of kisses along the column of his neck, nipping at his ear lobe as you pressed yourself against his chest. “Makes me feel so sweet.”

Steve groaned, barked out a laugh that ended in a hiss because you rocked yourself against him, grinding down and grinning. “Yeah? You’re anything but,” he lied.

“Mean,” you teased, bringing your mouth to hover over the boys, lips just grazing his. “You don’t think I’m sweet? That’s not what you said the other night.”

You were pouting, pushing your lips to Steve’s in a barely there kiss before pulling away, running a hand over the front of his hair, pushing it back so you could see the way his eyes glazed over at your words. He knew what you were referencing, of course he did. How could he forget?

“I distinctly remember you telling me that you thought I tasted real sweet in the back of your car,” you grinned, wicked, cupped the boy’s face and smoothed your thumbs over the high points of his cheekbones. “There is it,” you whispered.

A blush, pink and warm and rosy, just for you, even after Steve had spent countless times between you legs, lips sucking, mouth too busy to do anything but moan. He was pink even then. But this? Now?

“I think you’re the sweet one.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington blurb #stranger things fic #stranger things

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the-fandom-is-now-my-life · 1 year

Text

Universal language

Or incidents that make kaveh think and fully believe that his landlord/friend is dating the new translator

Wc: 1,2k

Cw: kaveh thinks reader and al-haitham have sex but their interactions are taken out of context

Notes : I wasn't thinking of doing a second part part but whatever sjsjjs

Got inspired by @alezayku

First proof. Why would you call him lovey dovey names if you two weren't dating? He has called al-haitham stingy and mean but calling him honey bunny?

Kaveh was about to lose his head, he is sure that his friend/landlord was dating the new language scholar that came from mondstrat, he had very few proofs but he didn't have any doubts

Al-haitham sits next to you and is showing you a page in a book

" There seems to be a usage of these terms in certain casual literature found in the records, most of them are usually referring to people. If you can identify their meanings it would be helpful" he lends you the book and sits up walking to the kitchen "I'm going to serve myself tea. Do you want?"

Pointing towards 'Cielo ' you start " well, this one directly means sky, but you couldn't say it's like saying ' you are my whole sky'"

Grabbing the book you look to his direction " Oh, i would love some of the tea you were drinking a few days ago" now looking down to the page he marked you scan the words " oh, these are endearment terms"

You see Al-haitham pour a jar of cold tea in two clay cups " oh? I wouldn't have guessed that there were such things in the holy language" he brings the two cups to the table and grabs a piece of paper and a pencil " what would be their meanings

And carefully Al-haitham writes down your words and you keep translating each one

Amor means love

Querido means dear or dearest

Dulzura is close to saying sweetie

And so on

Neither of you notice the sound if the wooden planks give under kaveh's weight but he does notice you two in the living room, creeping near the edge of the arch separating the hallway and the living room he listens carefully, trying to make up for the poor angle that only let him see the big plant al-haitham bought

Lying your finger next to the word 'Conejito' you drink a sip of the tea to soothe your throat that was already pretty dry from talking so much "honey bunny. I don't know how you can drink your tea so sweet, I would have guessed you liked your tea bitter" kaveh almost falls backwards from the surprise, you called him honey bunny?!?

He scribbles it before answering "It isn't sweetened, that is the taste of the leaves. I appreciate things done correctly, if it was bitter as you say it means that i burnt the leaves or those were cheap leaves"

Looking at 'Cachorrita' you try and test Al-haitham, you already taught him the meaning of cachorro, this is just the diminutive " If i take this off, does it look familiar?" You are covering the 'it' making it look like cachorra

Al-Haitham takes a second to remember but gets it at the end " Oh! Puppy!" He is so busy trying to hide how proud he is that neither of you notice kaveh gasp, misunderstanding the situation completely

looking at the last word you blush slightly, even if it wasn't exactly sexual in your language there wasn't any other translation that would fit 'Papito' better.

Stuttering slightly you look towards the window " D-daddy" Al-haitham was about to write that down until both of you got startled by the sound of the front door slamming closed but Al-haitham brushed it of as the wind slamming windows and badly closed doors

Second incident, sure people could argue that maybe it was a misunderstanding but kaveh swears he heard a straight up confession

Al-haitham is sitting on the floor, writing closely to what you translated from the book, it was barely 6 in the morning, the sun peeking from the horizon and slightly warming the room.

Al-Haitham had borrowed one book from the archives, supposedly this was one of the first leather bound books that they had ever found. The name of said book being pride and prejudice, a beloved book of yours.

Slowly scanning through the pages you start saying the words out loud, feeling the soul of a frail regency era lady enter you

"In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you. -''

"What do you want?" Al-Haitham speaks suddenly, stopping you from continuing reading. Looking up the book you see the blond standing in the kitchen "Shouldn't you be working? At least for a change of pace"

"I was running late and I- I- I'm leaving. Sorry" and he leaves as if the devil was chasing him

The third and last incident. And kaveh's strongest theory

Having to deal with confidential information lead to many awkward moments, from having to be escorted to Al-haitham's apartment by 5 emerites to ensure the information wasn't counterfeited or stolen. Even when his apartment is a 10 minutes walk from the akademia.

Or having to stay cooped up inside his room for the sake of confidentiality when kaveh started staying in the same room you two were in to avoid 'scandalous things' from happening.

At one point it got so out of hand you started sleeping in Al-haitham's apartment more than yours stipulated accommodations, to the point of almost kicking kaveh out to let you sleep in his room, but after thinking about it you settled with his couch

" Pss, al-haitham" you hiss at him from the couch, from where you were you could only see his back and hair " are you up?"

He only shushes you " it's 11 pm, go to sleep"

" Tomorrow we don't have anything to do, right?" He mhm's lightly " can you take me to the carnival, there are acrobatic slimes"

" Why don't you go alone, I'm planning to sleep all day"

Walking up to his bed and jumping over him " c'monnn don't be boring!" You grab his arm and tug as you jump "You owe me"

He held the hand grabbing his arm by the wrist "why do i even owe you for?!"

" Because you are boring and we never leave! C'mon~ just one evening"

" Yn, I. Don't. Want"

" GOODNESS GRACIOUS CAN YOU TWO GO YOU SLEEP?" kaveh yells from the room next door

" Do you see what you cause?"

" Can we go to the carnival tomorrow?"

" … No."

" C'mon~ you scheduled a show of the manuscripts the same night I had a ticket to the carnival! You owe me a carnival night"

" It was the only date available!" He sits up suddenly, both of your faces meeting at your foreheads "if I say yes will you go to sleep quietly?" His cold hands gripping your cheeks

You answer a simple "Yep" and a toothy smile

" CAN YOU TWO GO TO SLEEP?!" Kaveh swings the door open ready to throw a pillow but sees you two " Oh. OH. Ohmygod, I'm sorry" and leaves

" Okay, i can see how this could be misunderstood" al-haitham falls back into his bed " go to bed now"

" Soo, did we agree?"

" Whatever"

#genshin impact #gi #self aware genshin impact #genshin sagau #sagau #genshin isekai #many parts can be read as #al haitham x reader #alhaitham x reader #al haitham

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hopelesslygaysstuff · 8 months

Note

If it is possible, I would like to request a smut from Agatha using a magic strap in reader pls

pairing: agatha harkness x reader

summary: pure smut. keep some holy water nearby.

content warnings: smut, choking, magic strap-on, overstimulation, passing out, magic restraints, throat fucking, use of the word mommy, slight sadism - Agatha ofc

word count: 3.2k+

masterlist

Photo Cred: Me

Desperation

A hand wrapped around your neck, squeezing as a pair of swollen lips chased your own. You were panting, the sundress you’d picked out that morning was bunched around your hips as a sturdy body pressed against you.

“So desperate tonight, aren’t you?”

Agatha’s voice was teasing, but you heard the undercurrent huskiness that signaled her own arousal. Groaning, you reached your arms around her neck, burying your fingers in her curly hair. Pressing your lips against hers roughly, you sucked harshly at her bottom lip, smirking at the strained gasp that escaped.

“I don’t see you complaining.” You remarked, slightly breathless as you pulled away briefly. Agatha made a noise of frustration as your lips disconnected from hers, and pushed you further into the wall, trapping you between it and her body. You decided to stoke the fire, tugging sharply at her hair before attaching your lips to her neck.

A low moan ripped from Agatha’s throat, and her hand tightened around your throat dangerously. You couldn’t be bothered to respond, though, and nibbled gently at the skin you’d just marked. Running your tongue up the column of her neck, you gathered the slightly salty taste as you made your way towards her ear.

“Besides, you’re to blame for my desperation.” You said, biting softly at the sensitive spot below Agatha’s ear and smiling at the shaky breath she took. You knew that you were a few words away from further punishment, but couldn’t bring yourself to care. You’d been in a constant state of arousal for the entire day, and now that Agatha was here, you could barely hold yourself back from humping her leg as you sought relief.

Before you could continue, a single hand snaked its way up your body, leaving behind a blazing trail over your sensitive skin before it found purchase on the back of your head. Tugging harshly, Agatha wrenched your lips from her skin, pressing your head firmly against the wall as her hips pinned the rest of your body.

The touch nearly drove you insane, your eyes rolling back slightly as waves of arousal shot through you. Your nerves felt like they were on fire, as each puff of hot air that Agatha let out seemed to wrap around your skin, sending bolts of electricity straight to your core. The fingers at your throat sent your brain into a wonderful state of fuzziness, and the weight of her body pressing against your own caused a high pitched whine to escape you.

“Look at me.”

Your eyes shot open, and the sight of Agatha’s darkened blue eyes staring at you nearly made you orgasm on the spot. You felt a rush of wetness pool in your already dampened underwear, and were suddenly grateful for Agatha’s body keeping you standing. Without her, your knees would have already buckled, and the night had only just started.

“Yes ma’am.” You replied, your response time slightly delayed.

Blue eyes narrowed at the tardiness of your words, but the sight of your lips parted as your pupils rapidly dilated was enough for her to forgive you. Quickly releasing your throat and hair from her hold, Agatha gripped your wrists from where they rested on her shoulders, leaving crescent shaped indents in the soft skin as she moved them above your head. The new position allowed you some movement in your upper body, and as Agatha looked down at you with lidded eyes, you arched your back.

At the sensation of your breasts brushing against her own, Agatha growled. You smirked, and her eyes flashed. Your smirk disappeared, your eyes widening as Agatha gripped your wrists with a single hand, using the other to grip your hair tightly and tilt your head up.

“Fuck.” You breathed, gasping for air as her teeth sank into your skin. She chuckled, a low, dangerous sound that had you whimpering for more. Her hips rolled against yours as she alternated between biting your skin and running her hot tongue over the sensitive marks she created.

Jerking your hips against her as she bit into a particularly sensitive spot near your collarbone, you gasped at the feeling of a bulge. Rolling your hips once more, you felt Agatha smirk against your overheated skin as your clit grazed the sizable package nestled in her pants.

“Are you packing?” The words got stuck in your throat as Agatha pressed her hips firmly against your core, the damp fabric of your underwear making it easy for you to rub yourself against her bulge. This time, Agatha pulled away before you could relieve some of the unbearable aching between your legs, and you stared at her with wide, pleading eyes as a tendril of her magic twisted your wrists behind you.

Pointing towards the ground, Agatha uttered a single word. “Kneel.”

You dropped to your knees so quickly that you felt the bruises form almost immediately. Wincing, you looked up at Agatha. Your breath caught as you felt another wave of arousal shoot through you. From this angle, she looked practically regal, with her strong jawline and deft fingers undoing her belt as her darkened eyes pierced your own.

“Do you deserve this, hon?” Agatha asked, her voice raspy as she pulled the thick strap-on from the confines of her slacks. She groaned slightly as she slowly pumped it in her fist, and your eyes widened as you realized that she’d enchanted the strap.

“No ma’am, I don’t deserve it.” You said, your eyes glued to the strap-on as Agatha lewdly stroked its length. You licked your lips, glancing up to see her lips parted as she watched you. “Let me make it up to you? Please?”

Evidently, your answer was enough, and before you could register what was happening, the strap-on was pressed against your lips. You opened your mouth, moaning around the warm silicone as Agatha slowly pressed her length further inside you. Her fingers gripped the side of your head, her other hand on the wall supporting her as she watched her strap disappear down your well-trained throat.

Moaning openly at the sensation of your hot mouth taking her, she raised a single eyebrow in a silent question. At your responding smile, which looked absolutely adorable with her strap inside your mouth, she started moving.

The sound of her soft grunts filled the space between you, and you let out a moan of your own as you looked up and saw her scrunched up face. The sound of her strap sliding in and out of your throat sounded almost pornographic, and if the increased speed of Agatha’s thrusts told you anything, she loved it.

Gagging slightly, you struggled against the magic holding your wrists behind you. You wanted to rest your hands against her thighs, or around her waist, really anything that would offer you some stability. However, with a single sharp glance, Agatha let her disapproval be known at your attempts to escape her hold. The hands in your hair tightened, and within seconds you felt tears well up at the brutal pace she set.

Your head was gently hitting the wall with each thrust, and you breathed through your nose as Agatha used your throat for her own pleasure. Her head was thrown back, and you admired the strong muscles of her neck as you gazed up at her with watery eyes. She kept you there for a few solid minutes, only pulling out once your need for air overcame your desire to please her.

Coughing slightly, you bowed your head. “Did I do a good job?”

Agatha reached down, cupping your jaw as she tilted your face back up. “Yes, hon. Mommy’s very proud of you, and she thinks you deserve a reward.” She smirked at the light that entered your eyes. What an adorable little pet she had, one that jumped at any opportunity to please her and melted at the barest hints of praise.

Pulling you to your feet, Agatha released the tendril of magic that bound your wrists. You sighed in relief, placing your hands around her shoulders for balance as she walked the two of you backwards. Leaning in, your swollen lips found hers, and you kissed her like a woman starved. Nevermind the dull ache in your jaw, you simply couldn’t get enough of the woman.

Pressing a firm hand against your sternum, Agatha pushed you away after a brief but passionate kiss. Her eyes glinted as she silently spun you around, your gaze drooping to the table in front of you. At the nudge between your shoulder blades, you gulped as you lowered yourself onto the cool wood.

“Stay.” Agatha ordered, her voice raspy with need.

Sharp nails traced the backs of your thighs, and you shuddered as wisps of purple magic guided your hands to grip the edge of the table. Without any warning, your sundress disappeared, and you briefly wondered where Agatha had magicked it off to before probing fingers distracted you.

“God, you’re so wet for me.” Agatha said, mostly to herself as her eyes watched her fingers pull away from your pussy, a glistening strand of arousal stretching between them. You moaned, and her eyes snapped up towards your head, taking in your submissive pose with pride.

“Is this all for me?” Agatha crooned, waiting until you’d opened your mouth to respond before thrusting two fingers into you harshly.

A gasp left your aching throat, and you rested your damp forehead against the rapidly heating wood below you. “Yes mommy, it’s all for you. Only for you.”

Agatha smiled widely at that, her fingers curling against that sensitive spongy spot inside you as a reward for your good behavior. She let her other hand wander up your bare back, playing with the baby hairs at the nape of your neck before dragging her fingernails across your skin. She admired the red lines that stretched from your neck to your hips, tracing over them with soft fingertips as you moaned unabashedly below her.

“Please, mommy.” You didn’t really know what you were asking for. The only thing you could think of was how good it finally felt to have some of the aching pressure between your legs disappear. And the only person who could make that happen was Agatha. Then again, she was the reason for the aching pressure in the first place, but whatever.

A sharp thrust returned your wandering focus back to the present moment. You could feel Agatha’s hot breath against your dampened skin, her lips tantalizingly close to your marked neck. “Please… what? Mommy can’t help you if you don’t communicate clearly, hon.”

Her words were teasing, and you whined. It was becoming increasingly difficult for you to think, much less form a proper string of words together, and she knew that. Then again, Agatha had a sadistic streak a mile long, so you should have seen it coming.

“Please,” You interrupted your own sentence with a drawn out moan as Agatha’s other hand started rubbing fast circles over your clit. You let your head drop with a clunk against the table as you felt a wave of wetness coat her thrusting fingers. Agatha laughed cruelly, and you took a soldiering breath.

“Your cock.” You moaned, feeling the beginnings of an orgasm creep up. “I want your cock mommy, please.”

Agatha’s fingers slowed, and you tried not to show too much relief when she pulled her fingers fully from you. Hearing a low moan from behind you, you panted at the thought of her cleaning her fingers of your juices. The thought was too tempting, and you twisted your head around.

Catching a glimpse of Agatha, you admired her muscular torso, realizing that she must’ve pulled her shirt off at some point. She had her fingers in her mouth, her eyes slightly closed as she sucked. Her other hand stroked her strap-on with languid strokes, and you whimpered at the sight.

Blue eyes shot open at the sound, and Agatha’s gaze hardened at your change of position. Reaching out, she roughly grabbed the back of your head, pushing you back down against the table. You strained against the pressure, wanting to see her, or even just catch a glance of her.

“Good girls stay still when their mommies order them too,” Agatha hissed, lining her strap with your soaked pussy. She admired your swollen lips briefly before glancing back up at your head. She moved her hand down to the back of your neck, applying enough pressure to keep you in place, but not enough to make you uncomfortable.

Pressing the tip of her strap into your pussy, Agatha held back a moan. “Don’t you want to be a good girl for me?”

You nodded as best you could, feeling tears well up at the thought of displeasing Agatha. “Yes mommy, I’m a good girl. I’ll do whatever you say, just please keep making me feel good.” You nearly bit your tongue as Agatha suddenly entered you in a single thrust. You felt the table rock beneath you, and you let yourself relax as Agatha began fucking into you with earnest.

Blue eyes watched you carefully, a purple wisp entering your mind as you entered into a comfortable lavender haze. Agatha was always proud whenever you trusted her enough to drop into subspace, and now was no exception. That being said, she had no qualms about being rough with you, and quickened her pace.

The pleasurable heat of your slick pussy nearly sent Agatha over the edge, but she held back her orgasm as she moved both hands to grip tightly at your waist. Moans tumbled from your lips as she left fingerprint sized bruises on your hips, her pace never faltering as she brought you to the edge of an orgasm.

“Gonna come, mommy. Please, I’m so close.” You panted, hearing the sloshing sounds of your arousal as Agatha fucked into you.

“You can come as many times as you want, sweetheart. Do you want to come?” Agatha asked, angling the strap until it hit your g-spot perfectly. You jolted, a high pitched whine escaping as you nodded frantically, nails scrabbling for purchase against the wooden table as you felt your muscles tighten.

Agatha bent down, still fucking roughly into you as she licked the shell of your ear. “Come for mommy.”

Your orgasm washed over you like a never-ending wave of lavender and electricity. You spasmed, feeling your muscles expand and contract as you shook against the damp table. Your breaths came out in short, quick bursts, and your ears rang as you felt yourself relax.

Then, you tensed up again. Agatha’s pace never slowed. If anything, it sped up as she reached out for your hair. Wrapping her hand in it, she pulled your head back until your back was flush with her front. Your hips hit the table with each thrust, and you moaned at the feeling of her slick skin sliding against your own.

“Thank you mommy.” Your words sounded distant, foreign almost. Agatha’s deep chuckle, however, reverberated through your brain until the only thing you could think about was her.

Your second orgasm crashed through you like a raging wildfire, and you’re pretty sure you screamed at some point, the sensation of Agatha’s strap deep inside you and her hands roaming your sweaty skin too much to handle. The last thing you remember is Agatha’s worried blue eyes locked on your own.

—

“Hon? Are you awake?” You stirred, mumbling something as you felt soft fabrics all around you. Your eyes feel gunky, and you realize that the tears you’d shed had caked up around your eyelids. Reaching up, you notice that your arm feels strangely heavy. You can’t understand why, until you clumsily wipe at your eyes, and see Agatha fully wrapped around you.

A relieved sigh escapes Agatha’s lips, and you smile groggily down at her. “What happened?”

A hand strokes along your bare stomach gently as Agatha responds. “You passed out during your second orgasm, from the overstimulation.” She turns her wide blue eyes on you, and you’re surprised to see unshed tears in them.

Reaching down, you swipe your thumbs over her cheeks lovingly. Smiling softly, you whisper, “I’m not upset, Aggie. I promise. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Agatha blinks, her eyes still laced with worry. “Are you sure?”

“Of course,” You say, pulling her up for a brief kiss. You pour all of your gratitude and reassurances into the kiss, smiling when you feel Agatha relax against you. “Besides, now we can take a nice long bath.”

Pulling away slightly, Agatha looks at you in confusion. You laugh, pushing some of her wild curls away from her face and behind her ear. “Now it's your turn for an orgasm. I’m not the only one in need of release.”

You reach down, your fingers grazing the sides of the strap-on still attached to Agatha’s hips. She jolts, having forgotten that she was still wearing it. Groaning, she feels her arousal return tenfold, and pulls you from the bed after making sure that you were alright.

As you prepare a bath, filled to the brim with bubbles, Agatha pulls you into a tight embrace. After a deep kiss, your lips now bruised from her never-ending bites, she pulls away and swipes a finger through your still-slick center. Pulling you into the water, Agatha looks at you with blown pupils, her arms wrapping around you as she guides your hand to where she needs you most.

Pressing your front against her back, you let your lips graze her neck gently. Your hands grip her hips as you pull her flush against you. You briefly consider teasing her, but at the sound of water sloshing when Agatha cants her hips upwards in search of stimulation, you decide against it.

You wrap your fingers around the strap, squeezing slightly as you begin to slowly pump your fist. You nearly come for a third time when Agatha lets out a drawn-out moan, her head dropping onto your shoulder as her hands grip the sides of the tub.

Admiring the taunt muscles of Agatha’s neck, you let your tongue drag a long swipe up the column of her throat before murmuring in her ear, “You’re doing so good for me mommy.”

“Don’t you dare stop.” Agatha responded, her voice tight as her eyes clenched shut. You smiled against her neck, sinking your teeth into the soft skin near her collarbone as you moved your hand faster.

Frantic hips rose rapidly to meet your hand, and you heard Agatha’s orgasm before you felt it. The water in the tub sloshed as Agatha’s body went completely taunt, her muscles seizing as you pumped your fist rapidly up and down her length.

A breathy moan sounded in your ear, and one of Agatha’s hands moved quickly to grip your wrist. Her fingernails dug into your soft skin as she began speaking incoherently. “God, you’re so… fuck. Right there, don’t stop baby. I can’t… holy shit. So go- so good for me.”

With a few final pumps of your fist, Agatha came. Her body spasmed, and you wrapped an arm around her waist to keep her still as you drew the last drops of ecstasy from her. After a few long seconds, her body fully relaxed against you. Pushing your hand away, Agatha twisted her fingers as purple wisps danced around the strap, whisking it off and towards the sink to be cleaned.

Agatha sighed, intertwining her fingers with your own as you rubbed circles against her stomach. She tilted her head, her blue eyes glinting dangerously as she took you in. “I need to get you desperate more often.”

#mcu #marvel mcu #marvel #agatha harkness fanfic #agatha harkness #agatha harkness smut #agatha harkness x reader #mommy agatha #agatha harkness x you #agatha harkness x fem!reader #enchanted strap #requests

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datura-tea · 3 months

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holy shit this year marks 10 years of this blog and moz!! i can't remember the exact date i started posting here - my archive says i have one post from november 2013 but let's disregard that - but i do remember it was around late 2014/early 2015 :)

^ one of the very first moz art pieces i ever drew, for fallout week 2015!!

memories and art through the years under a read more bc it got long

2014 → baby's first rpg!! i started playing fnv on my cousin's jailbroken xbox late 2013 and finished mid 2014 and i loved every minute of it. i remember waking up at 8am and playing almost nonstop until 2am the next day haha!

i didn't play moz on my first playthrough - but i did start creating a character that would eventually become her: a shorthaired ex-boxer who punched her way through obstacles when diplomacy failed. i remember she spent a lot of time with boone. i liked him then, because he saved my ass more times than i can count. but i digress. this is draft 1 moz essentially

2015 → this is the year that i was doing my thesis so i could graduate but i was so depressed and stressed about it that i distracted myself by replaying fnv on pc, where i played through the dlcs for the first time. i fell in love with the dlcs' oversarching story; particularly ulysses, who i became obssessed with, especially since i couldn't find any content of him at the time. in the game, i played as moz; i had most of her personality and choices down, but her backstory was still up in the air.

fun fact: this was an existing sideblog that i remade to be a fallout blog so i could look for ulysses content, and when i couldn't find any, i made some myself, featuring moz as my main courier six. originally, i didn't ship them, but eventually i ended the year as a courier/ulysses otp shipper.

this was the year i started drawing digitally - my uncle let me borrow a drawing tablet and i used an old copy of photoshop i pirated hehe

2016 → i graduated this year!! and promptly fell deeper into my depression. this was the year that it got so bad that i had to be medicated. through it all, this blog and moz and ulysses and my fandom friends were with me. and for that i am truly grateful :) this was the year i figured out how to lock transparent pixels so that i could color my lineart lol

2017 → i started hammering out moz's backstory this year i think. there's a lot of sketches of her and her family in my files. i experimented with shading and backgrounds here but that experimentation was pretty short-lived

2018 → i started using references seriously!!!! i did a lot of oc on oc kissing this year, featuring mostly moz and many friend ocs haha

2019 → didn't draw much this year. actually this year was a blur and i can't remember much from it except from it being the year of my terrible no good bad copywriting jobs... anyway i did manage to continue my courier/ulysses brainrot and make this piece, which i'm still proud of

2020 → pandemic time. i spent a lot of time asleep at home and i think this was also the year i started doing commissions?? shoutout to anyone who has ever commissioned me - thank you so much, i truly appreciate it!!

2021 → i switched from my old-ass pirated photoshop to clip studio paint and never looked back. also i did a bunch of commissions for my grandmother's surgery, which failed, and i distracted myself from the sadness by drawing my ocs over and over and playing disco elysium

2022 → by this year, i've got moz down pat and have started vaguely developing other ocs instead. but she's still always at the back of my mind

2023 → i bought new brushes from true grit texture supply and immediately found new favorites that i started using for everything. i tentatively started incorporating background elements in some pieces!

2024 → while it's still too early to say where this year will lead me art-wise, i will say that i started experimenting in realistic paint studio (which i bought in 2021, the same time as clip studio paint) a few days ago and i'm liking the results so far. we'll see!

all in all, these last 10 years have been quite a ride, but i'm glad i stuck around and i'm glad you guys stuck around too!! much much love 💖💖💖

#shh peri shhh #god. look at that old art... i took the ones that i still kinda liked but the rest...#well i don't hate them. but they're old and of their time and i wish i could redo them lmao #my art #moz

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reminiscentreader · 25 days

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𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐃𝐎𝐎𝐑 𝐏𝐎𝐎𝐋 - grayson x lyra

“when you kissed me, after midnight, in a outdoor pool.“

- Lyras room was located on the seventh floor of the hawthorne island mansion, one story above the pool. She liked to spend nights on the balcony, the warm dusk air was always an experience. Not that she’d ever admit it to anyone ever, but , when grayson came out for his night-time swim she’d occasionaly scoot closer to the edge to get a better veiw of..... well, grayson.

The arrogant, professional bitch-boy Hawthorne who had invited her to the grandest game. They had barely spoken since the masquerade ball a couple days ago, celebrating the beginning of the game. At the ball, grayson had found her on the balcony. And he had sat with her. The whole night. He’d walked her back to her room and ever since then, things had been awkward between them.

Lyra was on the balcony again tonight, resting her head on the cool stone railing, gazing down into the lit blue pool, silently wishing Grayson would step out at any minute. As if he had read her mind he did. he had on a pair of sliders, a Harvard sweater, and his swim shorts. Lyra watched as he pulled his sweater off. He rolled his shoulders, flexing his back muscles. he stepped towards the pool, but as he was about to slip his sliders off. He turned around, staring up at Lyra watching him off the balcony. Making direct eye contact. Shit

After, hiding behind the railing for a minute, about to cry of embarrassment. Her phone buzzed.

Grayson - Gamemaster new message

she clicked it.

join me, tonight?

Holy shit.

—

Twenty minutes later, she walked onto the patio where the pool was. She had on a black two-piece, and had tied her hair up, to be honest, she was pissed that she’s have to wash her her again after swimming, but hey, it was worth it. Lyra sat on the edge, not daring to go in yet. Grayson finished his lap and swam up to the edge where she was sat. “You came?” he smiled up at her, flashing two dimples. “I don’t know why you’re acting surprised Hawthorne boy. May I remind you that, you are the one that texted me.” Grayson gave her a shrug, “get in.” He ordered her, she rolled her eyes, and slipped into the pool.

“solved my riddle yet Hawthorne?” She asked, swimming towards him. She stopped when she was close enough to rest her hands on his chest. “If I’m being honest Kane, no, I haven’t. And neither have any of my brothers.” “but,” she gave him an innocent look, “aren’t you supposed to know everything?” Grayson was not impressed. So much so, that he decided to splash her with water and swim away. How immature, she though before chasing after him.

Lyra only caught up to him when he stopped at the corner of the pool, he lent his head back and laughed softly, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. God that laugh. He looked back down at her, and when he did his nose brushed against hers. Then, he didn’t say anything, until he did. “Has anyone ever told you how utterly beautiful you are?” He lowered his gaze. “What?!?” Lyra wasn’t sure she had heard him right. Grayson moved his head closer to hers, so his mouth was just an inch from hers. “May I?” Lyra couldn’t speak, she only offered a nod in response. His kiss was soft and rough at the same time, Graysons long fingers caught in her hair, gently she brought hers up to cup his face.

Grayson only pulled away when someone cleared their throat behind them. Xander.

—

@sophiesonlinediary

#the inheritance games #grayson hawthorne #jameson hawthorne #the final gambit #the brothers hawthorne #the hawthorne legacy #xander hawthorne #nash hawthorne #avery grambs #the hawthorne brothers #lyra x grayson

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every-aj-needs-an-angel · 11 months

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Part 1 sorry this took so long, the heatwave melted my brain

It took far longer than either of them intended to make it to breakfast, mainly because once Eddie had finished making a mess of the both of them, he had insisted on washing Steve's hair for him, which honestly was the most blissful out-of-body thing that he'd ever experienced; but as the two of them walked down the boulevard together, brushing shoulders and for a lack of a better word, giggling, Steve couldn't remember feeling happier.

Eddie had the most gorgeous smile and every time he directed it at Steve, god! he felt… lighter, like he could float away any second, but at the same time, just by that same smile, he knew without a doubt that Eddie had him tethered safely to the ground.

And holy fuck if it wasn't just the best feeling! It wasn't something Steve had ever experienced before, because yeah, he's got Robin, but she's a steady kind of safety, he knows beyond doubt that they're two halves of a whole, she's his rock as much as he's hers and the day they met something just fell into place for both of them. And he has his little found family, he knows he can go home to them (or they'll come to him) any time, he knows he's safe in their embrace, like they're his shelter in a storm.

But this is different, he barely knows Eddie, hasn't spent more than a few hours with him, but it's like Eddie has this protective bubble around them both, like they're floating along together in this impenetrable shield and the outside world means nothing when he's held in Eddie's gaze, and he just knows he's safe, he can feel it deep in his bones.

And jesus! when they kiss! He's never felt anything like it. It’s like he's filled with bubbles that not only pop but fizzle, like someone's dropped a bathbomb into his chest, letting it froth and effervesce, like it's rolling and twirling around churning up his insides in the most spectacular way, and he almost can't breathe because of it.

It's fucking weird and glorious all at once.

Too much and not enough and he never wants it to stop because he knows he's never felt this way about anyone before, hell he hadn't even known it could feel this way and it's kinda scaring the living shit out of him because what if the last few hours were all Eddie wanted, what if Eddie's here for a fun time and not a long time and Steve has to go back home and learn to live without feeling like this.

Eddie nudged him gently, snapping him out of his spiral into the abyss, his eyes landing on Eddie's warm affectionate grin, following his pointing arm to where Robin and Chris were in the cafe across the street, sitting in a booth by the window, leaning into one another across the table, deep in conversation and grinning brighter than the Nevada sun.

Robin blushed deeply as Chris tucked a stray piece of her hair behind her ear, and Steve had seen that look before (usually aimed at him) but he'd never seen her look like that before, not with Jamie or Izzy and certainly not with Sammi ("Sammi with an 'i'", god he'd really hated her), because yeah she was blushing, that was nothing new, but she looked comfortable! She wasn't ducking her head, becoming all flustered and shy, no, she looked relaxed, confident even, like she'd known her forever.

The pair were so engrossed in each other that neither of them even glanced up as the bell above the door jingled when he and Eddie entered. Robin completely missing the way Eddie’s hand fit so naturally into the small of his back as he guided him gently over to their table. Steve felt giddy from it, like he was floating on air! It was so incredibly intimate and a little bit possessive, like Eddie couldn't keep his hands off of him and Steve just knew it was going to be his main topic of conversation for at least the next century.

Honestly, he couldn't even be that mad that she'd missed it, not when he saw how content and engrossed she was with Chris. He hadn't seen her smile that much since Vickie, which now that he thought about it was far too long ago for his liking. Normally on first dates she went for this cool, aloof thing, trying to push her real personality down for reasons Steve had never understood, but Robin was genuinely smiling, her real toothy, goofy grin as she chatted animatedly.

And Chris seemed equally spellbound, eyes wide and nodding, giggly and captivated. Not that it was surprising to Steve, Robin had always had this otherworldly quality about her; his best friend was beautiful, anyone could see that, but if she was passionate enough about a topic, she seemed to glow and her voice alone became sort of mesmerising.

Like the one time they’d actually got to work early, during a particularly cold snap, and while they were waiting for Jeremy to open up, Robin had started to tell Steve all about Yetis and the difference between Bigfoot and the Abominable Snowman. Only what neither of them realised was that instead of having a ten-minute chat, they’d actually sat there for three hours. Unfortunately, they were already on their last warning for being late, so it had got them fired, but they weren't too bothered, the worst thing about it was trying to find a new job in below-freezing weather.

The girls only really looked away from one another when he and Eddie slid into the booth next to their respective best friends, both still dressed up to the nines, Robin's mascara all but gone, bits all down her cheeks from where she'd rubbed at it. But it was her beaming smile told Steve all he needed to know, she was elated, she'd had a brilliant night, she couldn't wait to relay every detail to him later, and oh my god, Evie, she's amazing, I think I'm in love!

That sent Steve's attention across the table, the two best friends seemed to be having a similarly telepathic conversation, their attention quickly turning away from each other back to Steve and Robin. But it was funny how Chris and Robin had almost precisely timed Steve and Eddie’s arrival because no sooner had Steve been reintroduced to Chrissy, "Eds' BFF, platonic soulmate and personal cheerleader!", the waitress arrived with food for the four of them.

Steve was kind of glad for the distraction of plates and cutlery and condiments because shaking Chrissy's hand had sent another vision into Steve's mind of meeting her and Eddie the night before and as far as he could remember he was being so embarrassingly obvious in his attraction to Eddie, that he'd barely taken his eyes off of him long enough to have the common decency to even glance in her direction.

Being pathetically obsessed within the first five minutes, real smooth Steve!

They ate silently to begin with, happily just enjoying their meals; the food was delicious, and it had been far too long since any of them had had any proper nourishment. And Robin, his heavenly, wondrous Robin, had ordered his favourite dish, which with every mouthful was soothing the lingering aches of his hangover and given the blissed-out little moans slipping out of Eddie every now and again, he was clearly enjoying whatever meaty, eggy, goodness Chrissy had ordered for him.

Eventually though, sitting across from Eddie started to become just a tiny bit tortuous, especially when one particular groan, resonating from the back of his throat, brought forth a very clear vision of Eddie on his back in bed, making that very same sound as Steve kissed his way down his body. Fucking hell!

Suddenly Steve wasn't all that embarrassed about whatever he'd done that'd attracted Eddie to him because he truly was a sight to behold, in bed or otherwise.

Steve's attention was snapped away from thoughts of naked-Eddie back to the cafe when Chrissy giggled, at what he wasn't sure, he could only assume it was an inside joke when Eddie elbowed her playfully, snorting and mumbling a whined "shut. up!" even though she hadn't said a word. His pretty dimples coming out as he shoved more food in his mouth, keeping his gaze on his meal and smiling reluctantly around his fork as she cackled beside him.

Robin nudged him under the table with her foot and gave him a look that said "this dork, really?" And Steve couldn't help but grin because yes this dork and his adorable cheerleader, if it were up to him they'd keep the pair of them forever because watching the two best friends tease each other was just too fucking cute! Almost like looking through a picture book filled with their rich history, their deep adoration etched into the smiles on every page.

Steve didn't know what it was about them, they just both had that something; Robin would call it an aura, but it just felt good to be around them. The happiness they shared together exuded, pulling you in rather than pushing you out and Steve just wanted to bask in it, like he was Yurtle and Eddie and Chrissy were the heat lamp.

Steve knew he hadn't always been the best judge of character, he'd been duped a time or two, but he trusted Robin's instincts, if she thought Chrissy was a good person, good enough to spend all night with, good enough to maybe be in love with, then Steve believed it unquestionably, because in all the time he'd known her she'd never been wrong about someone.

She'd never liked Ashley and quite right too given the little rat was the one who'd been feeding HR all the reports that'd got them both fired. She'd hated Billy from the minute she met him, and well the less he thought about that the better. She’d felt the same abhorration for Carl, the electrician who as it turned out was wanted in several states for crimes he didn't like to think too closely about, given he'd left Robin alone with him.

When, in a fit of desperation, Steve had joined a dating service and met Angel (or SheDevil as Robin liked to refer to her as) who as it turned out was one of his dads "business associates" who (for some sick reason neither of them could fathom) had wanted to sleep with Steve; Robin had gone berserk, they’d had a massive fight before he’d left for his date but even when he came back shaken and tempestuous, she never said I told you so, she just wrapped him up in a blanket, made him a hot chocolate and let him cry into her shoulder until he felt better.

That was the day he decided he was always going to trust her gut unconditionally because it was clear she would always just know better than he did.

So Steve knew Eddie and Chrissy must be something truly special for Robin to be so comfortable around them, for her to let Steve get married because as much as she claimed she was powerless against his determination, they both knew that wasn't true. He was well and truly wrapped around her little finger and if she'd said no and meant it he would've trusted her intuition implicitly. She was his soulmate for a reason, not only because he wasn't entirely sure he could survive without her, but because she was the brains of the pairing; he still wasn't entirely sure how he’d managed to stay alive for the first two decades of his life without her.

He'd been so deep in thought that he started when Robin began chatting perpetually again; it was uncanny how she always did that, like she could almost sense that was thinking about her, so she’d just start talking, about anything and everything. He'd missed the white noise of her voice, like he always did when she was quiet, mainly because if her voice wasn't filling the space, his mind just had this tendency to run away with him, like a train on a track heading downhill.

Although, he could’ve lived happily without the vicariously embarrassing blow-by-blow of the night before.

Apparently, the four of them had met each other in the third club Steve and Robin had been in, Steve had spotted Eddie across the room and immediately started his five-drink-Steve ritual of making it his mission to keep Eddie forever.

No-one was more surprised than Robin when Steve's tactics had actually worked, her and Chrissy clicking over their mutual love and mortification they felt for their, platonic with a capital p, soulmates.

Apparently, nine-drink-Eddie had decided to ask twelve-drink-Steve to marry him, Steve, somewhat unsurprisingly, gave him a teary yes before he'd really had the chance to finish asking.

They were married by a man Robin was convinced was actually Elvis (nobody had the heart to correct her).

No-one could decide who should hold the bouquet, so they had one each, both girls caught Eddie's, whereas Steve, for all his sporting prowess, managed to hit the receptionist in the face with his, getting them promptly thrown out of the chapel.

Steve was already half naked before they'd even made it back to the hotel, it was undecided who'd undressed him. A mystery only Vegas knew the answer to. They’d made it across the hotel lobby by the grace of god and because Chrissy had played her "help the pretty blonde card" with the guy at the front desk as a distraction.

Robin had no more details for their night, but Steve was pretty sure he could piece the rest of that together himself, he was just glad the lift had been empty after all.

And the girls had had a whale of a time after they'd ushered the newly-weds off to bed, they'd carried on to several venues, including a drag show, another wedding (one that was actually planned for longer than five minutes!) a concert, three more bars, and finally headed back to the hotel.

"And then Chrissy rang Nancy! Oh my god, Steve! It's such a small world, right, 'cause Eds and Chris are from Indy too. It's crazy we've never met, huh? But anyway, we were thinking how funny would it be if Eds' dickhead ex opened the paper this morning to find out he's already moved on, and not only that, moved on with the King of Hawkins High himself! 'Cause Eds' ex is from Hawkins, like you! I bet you knew him! But yeah, turns out Chris knows Nancy, you know, your Nancy and well..."

Robin was definitely still speaking, but Steve's ears had started to ring again, not because his head was hurting but because he was pretty sure he was about to throw up! Nancy had put their wedding announcement in the Indy Independent, the very paper everyone he'd ever known read, including his parents! Not that he cared what they thought, but going from fired to married in a little over a week was a twist even for him. And Hop and Claudia! They were going to go absolutely mental! And the kids! At least they’d probably find it a little funny, unlike Hop who’d blow his top for sure.

Well, that's one way for everyone to find out! And no doubt Nancy found it beyond hilarious.

He and Nancy hadn't parted on the best terms. They'd broken up during a massive argument two days before their first anniversary, apparently he'd wanted more than she could possibly give him because she "just couldn't imagine staying with the same guy forever", only for her then to start up with her photographer boyfriend a few weeks later and as far as Steve knew they were still together all these years later, so that was obviously utter bullshit.

When Steve had continued babysitting the kids they'd tried to be friends, well given how little time they ever spent in the same room together, he supposed that classed as them trying to be civil, mainly for Will and Mike's sake, but Steve was grateful when Jon and Nancy had moved away after graduation.

And Steve didn't see them again for a long time, it was just sods fucking law that he happened to bump into them right after everything had imploded with Billy.

Robin had finally convinced him to go with her to a club she knew, he hadn't really wanted to be there in the first place and seeing Nancy again was the last thing he needed, feeling far too sore for the pitying look she gave him, he'd kicked off big time, trying to get her to admit that the real reason she'd left him was because he was just unlovable.

It wasn't his best night, and given she'd left in tears, it probably wasn't hers either. So he's no doubt she found it laugh-out-loud pathetic that the only way he'd eventually got married was to a total stranger while off his tits on holiday.

Steve glanced over at Eddie to see he'd gone white as a sheet, he gently called his name a couple of times, but he seemed to be in a world all of his own. Steve wanted to reach for his hand, but he wasn't sure how Eddie would react to that, and he didn't want to freak him out more, so he left his hand palm up on the tabletop next to Eddie’s hoping it was enough, leaving him a clear indicator that his comfort was there if he wanted it.

Eddie stayed in his trance for a few more minutes before a car drove past the restaurant, bouncing light through the window, causing Steve's ring to glint in his vision. That seemed to snap him out of it, Eddie all but throwing his hand into Steve's, gripping it tightly.

"Dan knows?" Eddie's voice shook with what sounded like disbelief. Steve, worrying he might burst into tears any second, started rubbing his thumb soothingly along Eddie’s knuckles.

Steve thought back to all the Daniel's he'd known in high school, couldn't think of a single one of them good enough for Eddie, and although King Steve wasn't good enough for Eddie either, at least he'd made the effort to become a better person.

A person who could maybe be good enough for someone like Eddie, with his resplendent smile and his inspirational laugh, his wondrous voice and wicked tongue. But clearly Dan hadn't bothered to grow, he'd stayed the same small town jumped-up dickhead that thought he was too good for the remarkable man in front of him.

More fool him!

Dan's loss and hopefully, if he played his cards right, Steve's gain.

Steve brought his other hand up to join the first, so he was cradling Eddie's hand in both of his, trying to be as comforting as he could from across the table, but then Eddie had started to laugh, deep and brilliant and merry, as though it was the funniest thing he'd ever heard.

"Oh, ho, ho! I wish I could've seen his face! I wonder if Jason took a picture? We could get it framed! OH! Album cover!" Eddie was practically vibrating in his seat, Chrissy joining in with his raucous laughter.

Steve looked at Robin, she looked equally baffled, oh good it's not just me!

As much as Steve wished he had a clue, it was nice to see how easily Chrissy matched Eddie's energy, bouncing up and down next to him, waving her arm frantically, "Oh, no, no, no! Stage backdrop!" she managed between peels of laughter, making Eddie laugh so hard he started banging the table with his free hand, desperately trying to catch his breath.

Chrissy looked across the booth, quickly catching his and Robin's confusion, sucking in a deep breath and jumping right into regaling them with stories of Eddie's early music career. Of Corroded Coffins' humble beginnings, practising in Jeff's garage and playing to disinterested patrons of their local bar. How they'd caught a break getting a regular gig in Indy, how they'd been discovered by a scout who just happened to be passing through. How they'd been on the edge of stardom, only for Eddie to have his dreams squashed with the promise of forever that never came to fruition, no matter how much Eddie conformed to Dan's every demand.

Steve listened in awe, Chrissy was an excellent storyteller and Eddie turned a beautiful shade of crimson whenever his best friend praised him, but Eddie's demeanour changed as the story became heartbreaking and all Steve could do was squeeze Eddie’s hand tighter; he knew what it was like to live with a dream squasher, someone who wanted to mould you into what they wanted you to be, instead of loving you for who you are. Not that he could understand how anyone would want to try to change Eddie, or how anyone could want to take anything away from him; or how anyone could see how happy his dreams made him and not want to do everything in their power to make them come true.

He could tell Robin was equally fascinated, but Vegas was clearly catching up with her, she was desperately trying to fight sleep, nodding off and shifting, staying awake for a few minutes to keep listening to Chris' stories but nodding off again. When Robin nearly face-planted her empty plate, Chrissy interrupted herself to suggest they head back to the hotel.

Not that Robin wanted to leave their company, she whined and protested, but quickly settled as soon as Eddie suggested they all meet up in the evening to go to a concert. Steve didn't quite catch the name of the artist, but from the way Robin bounced on the balls of her feet, he could tell she was excited about them. Steve didn't care if they were going to see the Queen of England's attempt at a comedy gig, Rick Astley repeat Never Gonna Give You Up for two hours straight or an elderly man give a talk about growing tomatoes, he was just happy to be spending more time with them.

It was hot out on The Strip, the sun high in the sky, bathing them in light and making Eddie look almost ethereal as he walked quietly by Steve's side. Eddie wasn't looking at him like he had been when they'd set off to the restaurant, he was glancing around at all the sights of Vegas, so Steve felt free to really look. Even looking at Eddie's profile knocked the breath out of Steve like a smack to the chest, he was just so beautiful, Steve felt more like he was looking at a piece of art than a human being.

Eddie’s hair wasn't just brown, in the sunlight Steve could see it was a mix of every colour, blondes and reds and browns all intermingled in his little ringlets. Neither were his eyes, they were speckled with gold and amber flecks that shone and sparkled as the light reflected from them. His pale skin was slowly turning pink in the midday heat, making a multitude of tiny scars on his face and neck shimmer. Steve wanted to kiss every one, he wanted to know the stories behind each mark, wanted to heal the past hurts with gentle caresses.

How could anyone ever want to hurt you?

With that thought, Steve's mind couldn't help but wander to Eddie and Dan's relationship, he just couldn't get over how endlessly unfair it was that Eddie had had to go through a relationship like that. Being in love with someone who didn't love you back was terrible enough, but being with someone willing to manipulate you into giving up your dreams, into becoming a whole other person out of desperation to be a good partner then to have the nerve to publicly blame you for the demise of the relationship, was just horrific.

Eddie didn't deserve that, he deserved someone willing to hang the moon and the stars for him.

And as much as a sick part of Steve understood the desire to want to keep Eddie all to himself, to keep his voice all for himself because when he thought back to the way Eddie had drawn him in without even making a true effort, Steve knew that if Eddie sang with intent the whole world would want a piece. But he supposed the difference was, he understood how selfish it would be to do that, to stand in Eddie's way of making his dreams come true, to not actively help him to actualize those dreams, to stop him from sharing his gifts with the world!

Eddie drew him out of his musings by bumping his shoulder into Steve's, a warm, playful smile on his face that Steve couldn't help but respond to, gesturing behind them with his eyes. Eddie seemed delighted when Steve snuck a glance over his shoulder at Chrissy and Robin; they were holding hands, Robin, getting more drowsy with every step they took in the intense heat, was practically being held up by Chrissy, not that it had any effect on the dopey smiles they were directing at each other.

"Adorable" Eddie mouthed when Steve's gaze flicked back to him, he couldn't help but agree, even if he did feel that little twinge of jealousy that the two of them could be so freely wrapped up in one another. Apart from when he was dating a girl, Steve never felt confident being openly affectionate in public, he always felt like it needed a big conversation about what the other person was comfortable with, and then he was accused of overthinking everything and making it weird.

He knew it was down to the way Billy had treated him and the thing was it made sense back in Hawkins but when they'd moved to Indy they lived in a safe part of town, he saw couples just being themselves all the time but the one time he accidentally grabbed Billy's hand during a thriller at the cinema, he'd acted like it was the end of the world, like Steve had doomed them somehow and when something so small causes your partner to temporarily move out it's bound to make you self-conscious.

Steve was glad when they arrived back at the hotel, he was fine in the sunshine, other than the time when he was fifteen and he'd fallen asleep in one of his sun loungers for eight or so hours, he never burned, but Eddie's cheeks already had a permanent pinkening and Robin may as well be a vampire she burned so easily, Chrissy had rosy cheeks now too, but he wasn't sure whether that was down to the sun or Robin's affection.

The lobby air conditioning had perked Robin up like a slap to the face, she was back to chattering easily with Eddie, telling elaborate stories of her marching band days, waving not only her own hands about but Chrissy's too where she hadn't realised she hadn't let go, not that Chris seemed to mind. Steve couldn't help but smile at them, they were too cute; even Vickie eventually became tired of Robin's rambling, she’d learned ways to discreetly quieten her, but Robin noticed, of course she did, it was the reason for the first time he'd ever seen Robin cry, but Chris just seemed enchanted, it made Steve's heart happy.

Steve was trying to keep track of their conversation, but his brain was blanking, now they were back in the midst of the hotel he was suddenly uneasy, every second that ticked by, every step they took was one closer to having to part, but they couldn’t linger, it was check-in time so reception was manic with pushing and shoving and people vying for attention. Steve was glad when the lift dinged so they could be away from the hubbub, the doors sliding open like a welcoming embrace.

Seeming to sense his change in mood, Eddie snuck his hand into the small of his back to guide him into the lift, immediately calming Steve; Robin noticed, falling silent halfway through her sentence to poke Steve hard in the ribs, smirking and mouthing, "adorable" at him.

Steve let out a breathy laugh and blushed deeply, melting further when the doors slid closed and Eddie snaked his arms around Steve's waist, propping his chin on Steve's shoulder. It warmed his heart to have him so close, to think that maybe he was equally anxious to be apart. Eddie snapping out of his contemplation by laughing heartily when Robin looked at the two of them with feigned disgust, but it didn't take long for her to turn into an adorably blushing mess as soon as Chrissy did the same thing to her.

With two floors separating them, the foursome found it incredibly difficult to part from one another, Chrissy wouldn’t let go of Robin’s hand and Steve was leaning against the doors forcing them to stay open for as long as possible while they checked and double-checked and triple-checked the arrangements for meeting up later in the evening. It was only when an elderly couple wanted to use the elevator that Steve reluctantly let it go, he and Robin staring forlornly at the closed doors for several moments before sighing heavily and turning to head to their room.

Robin headed straight to the bathroom for a shower, muttering under her breath about everything being wet. What could he say? They’d had fun! He knew she didn't really care about the state of the bathroom from the amount of times she'd showered with the door open in her apartment so they could continue their conversation, she was just filling the space to ease him.

Steve flopped down on his unmade bed, sucking in a relaxing breath, thinking about how brilliantly fucked up his life had become, and half listening to Robin's grumbling, letting it soothe him. Then when he felt brave enough, he put the phone on speaker and let the messages play.

Beep. "My Little Bobbin, you forgot to call! Give us a ring before your mother has an aneurysm! We love you!" Beep.

Steve could hear Robin creasing up in the bathroom, he felt guilty that he'd forgotten to remind her but her parents knew her too well, they’d only start to really worry if they didn't hear anything after a couple of days but they’d know from the fact that they could leave a message that they'd checked in and now she'd been reminded Robin would call them back when she was done in the shower.

Beep. "Steve, honey, Dustin’s driving me insane, will you please remember to bring him that book he wanted? I can't remember the name. Earthshaker! call him, will you? he misses you. Okay, love you, bye." Beep.

Beep. "Steven. Darrrling. Having fun in Vegas? Dad's got you a lawyer all set up, so don't worry! Call us back so we can start proceedings." Beep.

Beep. "Steve, it's Hop. *sigh* Is that Steve? No, he's not there. Call me, we love you." Beep.

Beep. "Steve, honey, we saw your announcement. I'm glad you're having fun but maybe give Hop a call? El says he's pacing! Don't forget my book! Dustin! Have fun with your husband! Send our love to Bobby, bye!" Beep.

If there were more messages Steve didn't hear them, between Robin chattering over the sound of the shower and listening to the messages from his family, Steve nodded off with a contented smile plastered to his face.

Part 3

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