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pellucid-constellations · 9 months

Text

Are You Bored Yet?

Pairing: College!Bucky x Tutor!Reader

Summary: God, you hated Bucky. Bucky probably hated you, too. Maybe. It was hard to tell when he was drunk and calling you pretty at a party you shouldn't have gone to.

Word count: 8k

Warnings: Alcohol, annoyance to lovers, a bit of angst, a scary man in a parking lot, frat!bucky c:

a/n: I am so excited to finally post something!! It only took me four months 😅 If you enjoy it please please let me know ❤️❤️

Masterlist

12:59 pm.

The birchwood table nestled in the back of the library was long but otherwise empty, the only thing occupying it being your laptop and quite a few books. He wasn’t late. Yet. You weren’t going to hold onto that hope, however.

Tutoring Bucky Barnes was not what you had in mind when you volunteered for the peer assistance program at your university. It was true you were only using the club to boost your resume, but you had assumed the only people reaching out for help would be those that actually wanted it. Unfortunately, that was not the case.

Sure, Bucky wanted help. Just not with anything that actually warranted the word. He wanted help sweet talking the cops so they wouldn't shut down his parties. He wanted help recruiting girls to show up to his parties. And—the one thing you could actually do—he wanted help passing his classes with the minimum GPA required to not get kicked out of his frat. So he could continue to throw parties.

Everything in his life revolved around his fraternity, which made you very important to him. When he wanted you to be.

With your apparently astounding knowledge of biology (you took notes during lectures), you became the star in Bucky’s life every Monday and Wednesday from 1:00 pm (give or take ten minutes) to 2:00 pm. He was also very attentive during the thirty minute phone calls he initiated prior to tests, and always looked happy to see you when he passed you devouring a bagel at the crack of dawn in the dining hall.

Every situation in which you had come in contact with Bucky was isolated and purposeful (minus the bagel). You didn’t hang out or invite each other places, and you were almost positive that if you were to see him in his natural habitat, you would want to tutor him even less than you did now, and that was saying something. So you were important to Bucky during the times you were supposed to be important, and he was important to you in the sense that he was a job.

But as your laptop blinked the numbers 1:22 pm back at your unimpressed expression, Bucky became much less important today. You took in a long, tortured breath before sending your gaze up to the ceiling, giving it another three minutes before you truly gave up on him for the day.

One minute.

Two minutes.

The library really needed new ceiling tiles.

1:25 pm and you snapped your laptop shut. Your fingers itched to send yet another complaint about this whole ordeal Natasha’s way, but you stopped yourself. She had already heard plenty about Barnes at this point, plus she always gave you a weird look every time you came stomping into the apartment, grumbling about something else he had done.

You hated her weird looks, all raised eyebrows and stiff lips.

With your backpack heaved onto the table and your things slowly funneling in, you figured a nap was the best reward for sitting in the library for an unnecessary twenty-five minutes. Your last prickle of irritation was stifled at the prospect of a warm bed as you stood, only to find that irritation had returned to you tenfold. In the form of Bucky Barnes.

“You going somewhere?” he seemed to taunt, his bag slung casually over one shoulder.

Your jaw ticked. “Home.”

His mouth turned up at one side, an expression you had learned meant he found you amusing. He never seemed to outright laugh at your annoyance, but apparently, it was hard to tamp down all of the joy he got out of it. Bucky took two long strides to meet the table you were attempting to abandon.

“But I still got about—” he checked his watch “—thirty-three minutes? And an arsenal of questions about amino acids. Help a guy out.”

“And I still got—” you checked the nonexistent watch on your wrist “—no patience for this today. You’re over twenty minutes late, Barnes. Use that watch to set an alarm on Wednesday and I’ll tell you everything you’ll inevitably forget about amino acids then.”

He groaned, rounding the table to set firm hands on your shoulders as he hovered behind you. “Sit. I’ll buy you a coffee and I promise I won’t be late on Wednesday, okay? I was dealing with something before this and lost track of time.”

“Were you dealing with another sorority girl in your bed? Who was it last week? Amber? No, Michelle?”

“It’s a Monday, y/n. Cut me some slack.”

“You came to me on a Wednesday with a hangover,” you deadpanned.

Bucky grimaced, the expression visible to you as he managed to guide you back into your chair. “Oat milk, right? A double?”

You grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest as he tossed his bag by your feet and jogged over to the coffee cart just outside the library. He fumbled with his wallet when he went to pay, and you watched him point to the carton of oat milk the barista had yet to reach for. His greek letters were printed on the gray hoodie he had haphazardly thrown over his shoulders, and you held the reprimand on your tongue when you saw the matching sweatpants he donned.

The last time he had shown up in his pajamas—late—you’d had some choice words for him. Bucky turned around with your coffee then, poking the straw through the lid and sending you a sheepish smile through the window.

He was lucky you accepted bribes.

“Please,” the boy across from you continued to beg, a pen held loosely between pliant fingers. “Just ask her, that’s all I want. You can even come too.”

“Oh, wow, the great frat president letting me come to his stupid toga party? How could I ever thank you enough?”

It was Wednesday now, and Bucky was surprisingly on time to the tutoring session. You’d gotten through about half of the last bio lecture before he started asking you ridiculous questions that had nothing to do with the content. Today, he was dead set on getting your lab partner from chemistry to go to his party this weekend.

“Okay, yeah, you could come to whatever party you want, you know? I put you on the list—but this one will be even better if you’d just do this one thing for me.”

You finally tore your eyes from your laptop, glancing lazily at him. “And what would make this one so—wait, what list?”

He waved you off. “The one at the door. Did it like… the second week we started this? Anyways, Wanda?”

You let this new information settle and tried to ignore whatever implications came with being on some frat list thanks to Bucky. He had never explicitly invited you to any of his parties over the past few months and you had never asked to come. Apparently, you could have shown up whenever you wanted to and had a grand old time.

Not that that sounded the least bit grand.

Bucky was looking at you still, all pleading features and a soft, infuriating smile on his lips. When he wasn’t talking to random girls in the library or taking annoying phone calls in the middle of your sessions, he was sort of endearing. In a terrible, awful sense.

You groaned, throwing yourself back against your chair in begrudging defeat. “I don’t even talk to her outside of chem. Don’t you think it’d be a little weird to invite her to a party that I’m not even going to?”

“So come,” he answered simply, as if that was in the realm of possibilities.

“Yeah,” you scoffed. “Sure, I’ll come to your party, Barnes.”

“Great,” he grinned. “Vision’s gonna be so hyped.”

You watched as he pulled his phone from his pocket and kept your lie to yourself. He wouldn’t notice that you didn’t show up on Friday, and likely wouldn’t even bring it up the following Monday. He always had such vibrant, headache-inducing stories that you were sure your absence would be nothing more than a fleeting footnote.

“You have a toga, right?” he mumbled, face still screwed up in concentration as he continued his text.

“Isn’t it just a sheet all twisted up?” you asked, shutting your computer. Tutoring was obviously over.

Bucky pocketed his phone again, brows raised in amusement. “Depends on your motives for the night.”

“And my motives wouldn’t be to… wear a toga?”

He chuckled and huffed out your name, resting an arm along the back of the chair to his right—your chair. “Other motives. Like if you’re trying to get someone’s attention.”

You blinked at the warmth along your back. “Oh, of course. Then I would twist up a pillowcase instead, right?”

“Something like that.”

He smelled like coconut. Like a day at the beach but afterwards, when the sunscreen still lingered in the air but fresh clothes covered skin that had been warmed by the sun. You could usually ignore whatever expensive combination he had on his skin, but when he got close like this it was almost impossible.

Part of you always wanted to chuck his arm away when he leaned over you, but another part of you liked that he kept it there. It was a strange part of you, the same one that relished the looks you got from sorority girls in the library and harbored a sense of pride each time he made a blatant attempt to touch you.

You had spent fleeting moments analyzing these emotions and chalked them up to some internalized desire for validation. Nothing else. Bucky was a hot guy and everyone knew that, so having his attention—in any capacity—felt nice. Sometimes. Meaning right now it was nice that he was looking at you with his arm practically glued to your back, but next week when he showed up late with a hangover and tried to steal the jacket off your body it would be not so nice.

The duality of man.

It helped your partial insanity that Bucky would never actually be interested in you. You weren’t in a sorority or interested to his parent’s money, and, worst of all, you didn’t know how to maneuver a sheet into a toga. When he put his arm around you or moved your hair from your eyes as you leaned over a book, it was probably out of habit. It felt nice, but you knew reality. This was a passing phase, and by the summer you wouldn’t even speak to him anymore.

“I’ll text you more info about everything,” Bucky called, pulling you from your thoughts. “You can come early and I’ll help you with that pillowcase.”

You froze, the book you were shoving into your bag pausing in your hands. “Uh, maybe.”

“No, seriously, it’d be better if you came early. I was kidding about the pillowcase but if you come on time it’ll be too crazy for me to show you around.”

“You don’t have to show me around, Bucky. I’ve been to a house party before.”

“Y/n, are you not coming to this thing?” Bucky accused, swiping the book from your hands and softly tossing it on the table. It still made a loud thud that had a few bitter looks thrown your way.

“Dude!” you whispered, meeting each mean gaze with your apologetic one. “Why does it matter if I come? You just wanted Wanda anyway.”

He knocked your hand away when you went to reach for the book again, encircling your wrist with his fingers. “You just lied to me. Straight to my face. You said you’d come and now you gotta.”

You gave his fingers an experimental tug, but he was unrelenting in his soft grip. You glared at him through your lashes, meeting his uncharacteristically stern gaze that contrasted the humor on his lips.

“You ever hear of sarcasm?” you whispered with a half-hearted bite.

“Unfortunately, that’s about all I hear outta you,” he smirked back.

You rolled your eyes, finally yanking hard enough to free yourself from him. “Then you should have known I wasn’t going to come. No matter what ‘list’ you put me on.”

“What else could you possibly have going on on a Friday night?”

Ouch. You felt your brows furrow even though you didn’t will them to, and even worse, you felt a rash defensiveness lodge itself in your throat. You hated the heat that now prickled along the skin of your neck, and you hated even more how it extinguished all of the good warmth you had felt from him earlier.

This was humiliation, surely—the kind that only came from feeling small.

“You don’t have to be a dick,” you seethed, snapping up the remainder of your belongings. “Just because I don’t want to go to your stupid frat doesn't mean I have nothing to do. I don’t spend all of my time hoping to get invited to ridiculous parties.”

Bucky shifted up in his seat, eyes blown just a fraction wider. “Whoa, I didn’t mean—hey, stop a sec, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Whatever, Bucky,” you droned, as a new temperature seeped into the skin of your palms and made them clammy. Any semblance of delusion you’d fallen into earlier was long gone now, but you knew to expect that. He wasn’t interested in you and you weren’t interested in him. But embarrassment wasn’t a good feeling, regardless of a multitude of reality checks.

Bucky got up when you did, his clothes looking creased and lived in. “We still have time in our session,” he defended, arm jutting out to the table. “C’mon, I didn’t mean you don’t have friends.”

Your glare sharpened. “Great, another insinuation.”

Bucky sputtered out incoherent words as you continued your trek outside, resorting to grabbing your wrist again, this time with more urgency. You felt the heat in you simmer down to a dull throb as he made contact, mostly out of respect for your future self. If you made this a huge deal it would only embarrass you more.

“Look, it doesn’t even matter, okay?” you huffed, but he just tugged you forward. It was then that you realized you were in the doorway of the library, effectively blocking it off from anyone trying to leave. Bucky pulled you close enough to his chest that you weren’t in the way anymore. His cologne was back with a vengeance, your nose just inches from his collar.

You took a steadying breath, blinking away the remnants of shame. “It doesn’t matter, I overreacted.”

He clicked his tongue. “I’m still apologizing. I didn’t mean any of that stuff you were talking about.”

Of course he did. You were sure he thought it all the time. He just didn’t mean to say it out loud.

“It’s fine,” you rushed. “I have to go, anyway. Office hours.”

“Okay,” he nodded, soft and low, like he just remembered he was in a library. “You’ll still come this weekend, right? Even if Wanda can’t?”

“You have some kind of girl quota you need to meet?” you pressed.

Bucky smiled, still so close to you that you could feel the small breath that accompanied the expression. “And she’s back.”

You left without promising anything, and Bucky left feeling like you had.

Sometime between Wednesday and Friday, your detestment for frat parties had snowballed into determination. You were going to go and you were going to look like you were having so much fun it was ridiculous. Then, on Monday, when Bucky would usually poke and prod about what you’d gotten up to over the past few days, you were going to pretend that it was nothing for you. That you did that every weekend.

Of course, you didn’t. Your weekends typically consisted of calm nights with friends or dinners near campus. You’d been to a party before, sure, but you didn’t exactly frequent those kinds of scenes.

Bucky had continued to make it clear that you were invited. He had texted you a few times, prompting you to come and thanking you for getting Wanda to agree. The messages looked strange under the plethora of biology related questions, but that just spurred you further into action. You weren’t just a tutor with no social life, and Bucky was going to see that tonight. You couldn’t remember doing something out of pure spite before, but you figured having fun to prove a point wasn’t the worst thing.

Wanda pulled you out of your thoughts as the Uber rounded the last dark corner and revealed an overcrowded house with too many lights on. She rambled on about some guy she couldn’t wait to see and confirmed that she would likely be spending the night. You expected as much; it hadn’t taken much convincing to get her to come. If this night resulted in anything good it was apparently the blossoming relationship between your new friend and a man you’d never met.

Wanda continued to chat as she yanked you out of the car and past the yard littered with sparse grass. The music was loud already—the type of loud that you needed to be at least a little drunk to enjoy. And that was the plan.

“Okay, if I start dancing on a table you pull me down. And if you start dancing on a table I support you, right?” Wanda giggled, her voice now raised as you walked past the threshold of the house.

“Exactly,” you yelled back. A guy nodded to you as he leaned against the front door, his eyes glancing up from his phone and then returning. It seemed Bucky’s ‘list’ was a page on some guy’s notes app. How luxurious. “Let’s drink.”

The next hour was a blur. You tried your hardest to get as drunk as possible and Wanda tried her hardest to find the British man she was enamored with. You hadn’t seen Bucky, but you figured he wasn’t looking for you too hard since you hadn’t responded to any of his texts. Not out of anger, but because you didn’t know what to say. Somehow, with alcohol warming your blood and music vibrating your skin, none of that mattered anymore.

You: Your house is soooo dirty

Your phone jostled in your grip, people bumping into you from every side. When he didn’t answer in the thirty seconds you spent staring at the screen, you locked it and continued on with your mission.

After a few too many shots of hard liquor, you switched to beer. Gross, but decidedly less likely to make you pass out on the staircase of this house. Because you weren’t lying in your text—it was slightly disgusting. You figured you should clarify that with Bucky. You reached for your phone once again, knocking your head against the wall in the process and giggling to yourself. You had no idea where Wanda went.

The device was snatched from your hands just as quickly as the screen had lit up your face.

“You ever answer this thing?” an accusing voice called out. “Or do you just insult people and put it on do not disturb?”

The look on Bucky’s face would have made you roll your eyes in any other circumstance. Right now, however, it had a startled laugh bursting past your lips. You clutched at your stomach as the laugh grew and you found yourself tipping forward until your forehead met his chest. You felt delirious, almost silly. A hand came around to rest on the back of your neck.

“Alright, alright.” Bucky’s words rumbled against your face. “I get it, this is hilarious.”

“Your… your face,” you breathed out, catching your breath enough to part from him. “It was all—” you mimicked the straight line of his eyebrows, voice raising in a mocking tone. “—You don’t ever answer your phone. You’re so boring, y/n, answer your phone.”

“I didn’t call you boring. Hey—hey,” Bucky stressed, reaching for you as you leaned too far to the side, a smile still lingering on your face. “Jesus, y/n, how much did you have to drink?”

You went to mock him again, but his fingers on your jaw stopped you. He tilted your head up and to the left, and although he was much more composed than you were, you could still smell the alcohol on his breath. You scrunched up your nose as he continued his inspection.

“Why’re you being so uptight?” you slurred, trying and failing to push away from him. “I thought you were all like, ‘I’m Bucky and I party and get drunk and have sex with girls.’”

Bucky pulled you forward as you laughed at your impression of him, his shaking head making you blink away a bout of dizziness. You toppled over a set of stairs as he threaded his fingers through yours, and then you stumbled through a doorway and onto carpeted floors. Being pressed into an uncomfortable chair was the most jarring action, the world still spinning as you sat.

“You’re even more mean when you're drunk,” you heard Bucky mumble. You couldn’t quite catch him as he moved around whatever room you were in. “And I don’t talk like that.”

You let out a careless sigh and leaned back. “You soooo talk like that.”

Something cold pressed to your hand, followed by another touch to the back of your neck. You gazed down at the water bottle being guided up to your lips and couldn’t find it in you to fight against it, despite the small spark of defiance on the tip of your tongue. After about four large swallows, Bucky was satisfied.

He asked again how much you’d had to drink.

You answered that you didn’t know—that it didn’t matter because he wasn’t your dad and you were having fun like you always did. He bit the inside of his cheek and didn’t say anything for the next few moments.

And then, “Thought you weren’t gonna come tonight.”

You hummed, rolling your head against the chair to look up at his standing form. “Of course I was going to come. I love parties. Love drinking alcohol.”

His expression twisted into something you couldn’t recognize. “God, you’re so drunk.”

“M’not even that drunk!”

“You’re willingly in my room right now. You’re plastered.”

“Maybe I want to be in your room.”

“We both know that’s not true.”

You chuckled breathily, closing your eyes so you wouldn’t have to see the pretty flush of Bucky’s face. “You think you know everything, don’t you? Don’t know much about me though. Or biology.”

Bucky kneeled down to the height of the chair. “And what do I not know about you?”

“So much.”

“How much?”

You bit into your lip and cracked an eye open, catching the amusement that had slipped past the strange mask of his emotions. With blissful ignorance, you heaved yourself forward on the chair, your nose a few inches from Bucky’s. His eyes didn’t waver from yours as you swayed.

“You don’t know that I’m the most interesting person on Earth,” you boasted, fingers gripping the upholstery of your seat.

“That right?” Bucky probed, his voice a melodic hum.

“Yup, I’m always really busy and even though you think I’m some boring biology tutor I’m actually super cool and, like, go to raves and stuff.”

His brow twitched but his mouth stayed soft. “I’ve never said you were boring. And I don’t think you’ve ever been to a rave.”

You groaned loudly and flopped against the backrest of the chair. “See! I’m telling you I do all this cool stuff and I’m so drunk my fingers are buzzing and you still don’t believe me.”

You crossed your arms with a huff, a small pout forming on your lips. In any other context, this behavior would probably embarrass you to no end. In the dim light of Bucky’s room where you felt the feeling leave your fingers and the care leave your mind, you were just disgruntled, not embarrassed. If you remembered this tomorrow the latter would surely catch up to you.

Bucky stared at you from his spot on the ground, his gaze a bit foggy and unfocused. He was clearly intoxicated, as you deduced earlier, and it made him look more wild. Mused hair and pink cheeks, he looked like he’d been having plenty of fun before he found you. It was distracting. He was distracting you from proving that you were having a blast.

“What?” you snapped, the tone a testament to the drunken fit you were throwing.

“You’re so fucking pretty.”

He must be really, really drunk. Despite your clouded mind, you knew that, but the words affected you just the same. Your lips parted as a new lightness both lit up and compressed your chest, and Bucky watched the movement.

“Yeah,” you scoffed, but it was hardly a scoff. “Sure, Bucky. How much did you have to drink—”

“I’m not lying. I’ve thought about you in my room for weeks and now you’re here and you’re so pretty. Even when you’re yelling at me.”

“You’ve… thought about me in your room?”

Bucky shuffled forward and you subconsciously parted your legs to allow the space for him. “I think about you everywhere.”

This was crazy. It was certifiably insane. A voice in the back of your head—Natasha’s voice, it sounded like—was screaming at you to stop and think about the situation at hand. He was drunk, you were even more drunk, and he was far too close to you. He had ushered you in here with good intentions and had sobered you up a fraction, but things had taken a turn and this was a sensitive situation. The kind of sensitive that altered your reality and his and probably a bunch of other people’s you’d never met.

Or it could be nothing and you were over exaggerating.

But then Bucky’s hand was warming your thigh. You’d felt the press of it on your back and your shoulder and your head before, but it had never been on your thigh. It felt heavy there, hot. His other hand moved to touch your face and he propped himself up on one knee. His thumb brushed your cheek. Words tumbled from your mouth before you registered that you were speaking.

“Are you going to kiss me?”

Why would you ask that? Who asks Bucky Barnes if he’s going to kiss them?

“Would you let me?” he responds.

“Yes.”

He didn’t waste any time, his mouth hot against yours. He tasted like mint and vodka and his lips moved so slowly it ached. You had expected a fervor behind his lips, but instead you got a build up, an orchestra reaching its crescendo. He was kissing you like you were important, like this wasn’t some random hookup in his bedroom at 1 o’clock in the morning, and you had to catch your breath when he parted from you.

But he moved back in so quickly after your brief respite, and you were eager to give him more. This was crazy, insane. This was the best kiss you’d ever have and also the worst. This was months of staring at his stupid lips when he tried explaining concepts back to you, but this was also weeks of feeling small in his presence. Bucky slid his hand back to press against your hair and you didn’t feel small anymore.

A loud thud from the hallway interrupted the silence you’d created, and Bucky pulled back, keeping his hands on you as he craned his neck around to stare at the door. He waited a beat, and then two, and then he turned back to you. The moment was gone, but he was still touching you. You weren’t sure what you wanted—if you wanted him to kiss you again or run out the door—but when he slid his hands from your body and rubbed them down his jeans, it became clear that was not what you wanted.

A knot formed in your stomach when he met your gaze again, and you tried blinking the feeling away. It didn’t work.

“Um,” Bucky began, his voice sounding more clear, his tone not holding the weight it had.

Your plan had backfired. Severely. This was a mess and you needed to save yourself before you ended this night even more humiliated.

You were still drunk. Pretend you were still plastered.

You giggled airily, the sound burning your throat. “That was loud.”

Bucky blinked at you in what you assumed was disbelief. “Probably just someone trying to find the bathroom,” he clarified.

You shrugged, nudging him back with your knee as you stood from the chair. “I’m bored now.” You took fast steps to the door, your words foreign to you. “Thanks for the water,” you all but gritted out.

You expected him to get up. Not to run after you or proclaim his love or even say anything. But you expected him to get up.

He didn’t, and you couldn’t understand how the knot in your stomach had moved to your throat. Or how it made tears spring to your eyes when your feet hit the sidewalk outside. Your Uber came and you couldn’t understand how you felt hot and cold at the same time. How it was freezing outside but you were sweating.

You couldn’t understand why you were crying over a boy that so often infuriated you, or why he kissed you in his bedroom. The reasonable side of you sent gentle reminders that he was in a frat and kissing people is just what he did. All the time. But the unreasonable side of you won out tonight, and it was telling you that this felt different.

That you should be different, somehow.

Bucky: You’re here???

Bucky: Where are you?

Bucky: Y/n answer your damn phone

Bucky: This place is fucking packed tonight I thought you weren’t coming

You stared at the text messages you hadn’t read last night, the bright light of your phone burning into your retinas. You had a brutal hangover, and the memory of the disaster in Bucky’s room felt like an even bigger one.

You’d gone through a myriad of emotions the night before, tossing around excuses and speeches in your head until you were so exhausted you let the alcohol in your system lull you to sleep. With all of that delirious thinking, you’d landed on blacking out. You were going to tell Bucky you blacked out last night and couldn’t remember a thing. He obviously wouldn’t care and would probably appreciate it.

Saturday was slow-moving. Reruns of television shows and bags of popcorn and overthinking. Natasha was at her parent’s house in the city, so you had no one to bounce your racing thoughts off of. You certainly weren’t going to text her about it.

When the evening finally rolled around and your attempts at distracting yourself with mind-numbing movies failed, you checked your email. You always tried not to on the weekends, but doing anything else sounded much less appealing.

Unfortunately, you didn’t get past the first one.

From: University Peer Assistance Program

Dear Y/n Y/l/n,

This is an automated message from the campus peer assistance program. We thank you for your continued devotion to the betterment of students at this school. At this time, your tutoring placement with James Barnes has ended. We will search for a new placement to fill your current hours.

Thank you,

University Peer Assistance

You blinked at the email, then blinked again. The breath left your chest and the muscles on your face twitched, but you were otherwise frozen.

This was what you wanted, wasn’t it? To be free from the haughty frat boy that didn’t even listen to you when you tried to help him raise his grades. You wanted someone nice, someone that had the same goals as you and appreciated the color-coded notes you took for them. Bucky only tried to get a rise out of you. He sat too close and made fun of you and put you on lists you didn’t ask to be on.

But he had kissed you. He had kissed you and then tutor-dumped you.

You knew you weren’t his type, but were you really that bad? Was the kiss so terrible?

Every inferiority complex you had developed exploded. You over-analyzed things that had already happened, things you had said. Not just at the party, but in the library, the coffee shops, the lecture halls.

Was he really willing to risk his position in the frat just to avoid you?

The strangle tickle of tears itched to be released from your eyes again, but you pressed it down. No, this wasn’t on you. He had kissed you. He had dragged you into his room and stumbled on pretty words. If he didn’t want you to tutor him anymore because of his stupid mistake, fine.

His mistake.

That word felt wrong.

You tossed your phone on the couch with vigor. The clock above the television read out 10 pm, but that meant little to you as you slid on your shoes at the front door. You were wearing sweatpants and a jacket that was far too big on you, sadness and frustration and raw confusion propelling you down your apartment stairs.

Ice cream would fix this.

The only place open at this time was the gas station at the edge of campus. It wasn’t university affiliated and was usually overrun with belligerent greek life trying to buy alcohol, but the decision-making part of your brain was currently shut off.

Ice cream, anger, probably watching tiktoks until your eyes were too heavy to keep open—those were the only things rattling in your head.

You yanked open the gas station door after your short walk, the glass smudged and fogged from the cold night. The fluorescent lights aggravated the headache you’d been sporting all day and the floor made sticking noises with each step you took. To add insult to injury, there were only three cartons of ice cream left, and they weren’t even the good flavors. Grabbing the least offensive one, you made your way to the small line of people by the register.

“Nice outfit.”

Too enthralled by the disappointing ingredient list on the side of your ice cream, you had missed the tall man now looming at your shoulder. You whipped your head around with a start, taking a step back, smelling menthol and asphalt and nothing good.

“Thanks,” you quietly replied.

He waited until you turned back around to continue. “You go to school over here?”

You kept your gaze forward. “Um, yeah.”

“Nice. I graduated a few years back. Marketing.”

“Cool,” you replied. What had compelled you to leave your phone on the couch? This night sucked.

You found reprieve in the line moving, the employee calling you over to check out. As soon as you paid—a few dollar bills funneled out of your pocket with shaky hands—you booked it. Your ice cream burned in your palm but you didn’t care, feet carrying you out the door and into the dimly lit parking lot. You fisted your keys in your fingers; pointless, you knew, but a small comfort.

The man’s voice returned with the chime of the bell over the gas station door. “Wait! Wait, I’m Beck. I own a business nearby.”

You should have kept walking, but one of your fatal flaws was, apparently, people pleasing. You turned to him. He smiled at you but it made your stomach twist.

“Oh, nice,” you responded, rocking back on your heels.

“We should connect. Maybe go for coffee or something?” He took a step forward. You fought the urge to take one back. His beard was unkempt and he held a six pack in his white-knuckled grip.

“Um, I don’t know. I’m pretty busy with finals coming up. Plus, I’m not really in the business field.”

“Not for business then,” he smiled again, teeth dull in the streetlight.

Just agree. If you agreed you could block him soon after and everything would be fine.

You took too long to answer. He took the final step forward to arrive in your space and wrapped his fingers around your bicep. “C’mon, I’m not asking you to marry me or anything.”

Frozen by fear, you let out a weak laugh. The pint in your hand was sticking to your skin now in a way that would be painful when you tried to let go of it later. Your breath rattled in your chest when you laughed again.

“Sure, okay.” But he didn’t let go of your arm, instead sliding it down to the bone of your wrist.

“What about now?” he posed. “You don’t look too busy. I can make you something at my place.”

He was at least ten years older than you. You attempted to pull yourself from his grasp to no avail. Maybe reasoning would work.

“My roommate's waiting for me,” you lied. “Could you let go? I sprained my wrist at the gym last week,” you lied again.

He refused with a shake of his head. You took a panicked glance inside the gas station to your right. No one was looking.

“Please let go of me.”

The call of your name from the other side of the parking lot initially sent more unbearable fear down your spine. But then the owner of that voice registered in your brain, and although it had been the cause of your recent internal strife, you couldn't be more grateful to hear it.

He said your name again, closer now and questioning. Bucky jogged up to the pair of you, saw your wrist and the man holding it hostage, and looked back up at you with confused, wild eyes.

“You know this guy?” he asked, jutting his thumb out at Beck.

“No,” you whispered. The word was short but the syllable still trembled.

Bucky didn’t look confused anymore. He looked pissed. “Wanna take your fucking hands off her?”

Beck was tall, but Bucky was taller. And angry. Beck released your wrist and raised his hands in a placating gesture. “Whoa, man, no need for the theatrics. I’m guessing you’re here to stock up for a party? I used to be in Sigma Nu.”

When Bucky’s silent glare failed to dampen, Beck continued with, “We were just planning a night at my place, right?”

His nod in your direction made your breath catch. Bucky took his piercing gaze off of Beck and softened it as it fell on you. You wanted to respond, but words were gone. They were impossible. Your ice cream was melting.

“Yeah, I think we’re done here,” Bucky scoffed, placing his arm around your shoulder. He guided you past the wall of a man, making sure to drive his shoulder into his chest as he went. Beck went to say more, to protest or whine, but Bucky shot him such a scathing look it almost made you wither.

The smell of coconut and spices and a hint of whisky met your nose, and it was familiar. It was safe. You fumbled with the keys in your hands as your feet guided you wherever Bucky was going, and then you fumbled even more, soft jingling disrupting the softness of footfall. God, why wouldn’t you stop shaking?

A hand fell atop yours, crunching the keys to a halt. You stared down at them, unsteady breath hitting the tanned fingers that served as your current anchor.

“Look at me, y/n.”

You couldn’t. You couldn’t do anything.

“Sweetheart, eyes up. All you gotta do.” Bucky’s voice was as soft as it was last night. That was the only reason you were able to follow his request. “There she is,” he hummed.

He removed his arm from your shoulders and shifted in front of you, placing his hand on your cheek. You ignored that it felt the same as it had last night. You ignored that you wanted it to feel the same for him, too.

“You okay?” he asked, tilting his neck down to better see your face. His thumb brushed under your eye. “He hurt you?”

You shook your head, whispering no, whispering that you were fine.

Bucky nodded to himself, eyes tracking down to your toes and then back up again. He must have mistaken your shaking for coldness because the next thing he did was guide you into the car behind him. You didn’t know it was his.

He blasted the heat the second he got in. He had shuffled you into your seat with his hands before that, smoothed your hair down and closed the door after you were settled and not shaking as hard. The heat dried out your eyes. It distracted you enough to let words form.

“Thank you,” you said. “He wouldn’t leave me alone. I didn’t bring my phone with me. I should’ve.”

“Of course.”

There was a beat of silence. The relief you had felt earlier had been muddled down to an awkward pit in your stomach, and you weren’t sure if Bucky felt it too or if he was still riding a testosterone-fueled adrenaline high.

You wanted to go home now; this was uncomfortable and you had felt Bucky’s lips on yours less than twenty-four hours ago with no closure. He obviously didn’t want to be around you. This was probably a responsibility thing for him.

“I can… I can walk home now. The guy left. I’m just a quarter mile away and you probably have to stock up or whatever.”

He looked at you with a pinched expression. “I’m not letting you walk home after that. You kiddin’ me?”

“I’ll be fine, really. I walk over here all the time.”

“You get harassed all the time too?”

“No…”

“Exactly. So you’re not walking home.”

“Bucky—”

“Look I’m not gonna kiss you again, alright? So you don’t have to turn down a ride because of that.”

Your ice cream was soup at this point. You let it roll into your lap as you clamped your mouth shut just to open it again. Bucky ran a rough hand through his hair before dropping it on the steering wheel, clutching at it with no place to go.

“I’m not following,” you finally relented.

A loud sigh released from his nose. “You don’t have to worry about me kissing you again. I just want to make sure you get home safe and then I’ll leave you alone.”

“Worry about—you’re the one trying to avoid me,” you snapped, frozen fingers pointing to your chest. “You tutor-dumped me.”

“Tutor-dumped? How do you…” he trailed off.

“I get an email when you make a change request, Bucky.”

He stared at you for a moment, lips parted and unmoving. He clenched his jaw a moment later, a red tint adorning his cheeks.

“Well, you—you—look, I know you don’t like me, y/n. You’ve made that clear,” he stuttered, words getting louder as he moved his hands around with each one. “But I like you. I like when you get mad at me and when you yell at me for not listening and when you get all embarrassed when I play with your hair. And I’ve been trying to get you to come to one of my parties since we started this whole thing, but every time I talk about them you seem to like me even less.

“If I had known insulting you would get your attention, I woulda done that week one,” he exasperated. You sat up in your seat but he continued. “I didn’t mean any of that shit you thought I did. You’re not boring. And I didn’t mean to kiss you, but you looked—well, I already told you.”

“So you don’t want me to be your tutor anymore because you like me?” You spoke slowly, each word careful.

“No,” he sighed, frustrated. “I can’t be around you because I kissed you and you didn’t care. Because I’ll want to kiss you all the time and you didn’t even wanna kiss me once. I know we were drunk, I get that, but I’ve wanted that for a long time and I need to move on. It’s nothing against your… tutoring skills. If that’s what you’re worried about”

“But you talk about hooking up with other girls all the time, Bucky. To me.”

“You ever hear of lying?”

“Why would you—”

“You really gonna make me live out all of my failures with you?”

You’d read so many things wrong. Taken so many things the wrong way. You figured the email earlier was the final nail in the coffin, but this was something else entirely. This was Bucky, sitting next to you in his car looking distressed and frazzled with his hair six different directions, telling you that he’s been trying to get your attention since he met you. That you weren’t small or insignificant or boring.

It was probably a terrible idea to follow through with your next thought. You’d probably get hurt in the long run. But you did it anyway.

“I wanted you to kiss me.” Bucky’s head whipped towards you. You bit the inside of your cheek and said, “I want you to kiss me all the time.”

He whispered your name. It sounded like the air had left every corner of his body. But he didn’t move, and you needed to rectify that.

“You’re infuriating,” you began. Bucky cringed, but you needed to explain as he had. “You’re like the antithesis of everything I want out of college. You don’t care about classes. You’re always late. You talk too loud in the library.”

You took a deep breath, fiddling with the loose thread of your pants. You couldn’t make eye contact with anything but the ground.

“But then you know my coffee order when I’ve never told it to you. You save me from losers in parking lots and make sure I’m not drunk out of my mind at your obscene party. You make me feel… you make me feel stupid sometimes. And I thought it was because you’re everything I’m not, but I really think it’s because you’re everything I told myself I should stay away from. But I don’t want to.

“I wanted you to kiss me at that party and I want you to kiss me now.”

“Then get over here. I’m not kissing you over some bullshit center console.”

You twisted to follow his directions, gasping as his hands clasped around your waist to tug you into his lap. It wasn’t seamless—there was laughing and your head briefly connected with the roof of the car—but Bucky’s touch was everywhere, soothing the uncertainty and fear and slight headache.

His forehead connected with yours when you felt secure in his arms. His fingers slid down from your waist over the material of your sweatpants and when he spoke next you felt the words on your own lips.

“You’re wearing sweatpants. You get so mad when I wear sweatpants.”

You laughed. “I get mad because it usually means you just rolled out of bed, and you’re usually. late.”

“I got a secret,” he whispered, nudging his nose against yours. “I’m never late. And I only wear those sweatpants around you. You get cute when you’re pissed at me.”

“Well, I’m about to be really cute—”

He kissed you. You’d have plenty of time to argue later.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #college!bucky #bucky barnes reader insert #bucky barnes #college AU #frat!bucky #marvel imagine

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amoreva · 4 months

Text

KISS THE GIRL

—– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • · —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–

pairing: luke castellan x fem!reader

summary: two times luke knows he’s in love with you + one time he can’t hold it in anymore

warnings: pre tlt luke, ooc luke

a/n: percy jackson 🔛🔝 (request some fics for the characters), i think i ended this terribly, but i’ll fix it later at some point!

—– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • · —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–

I. SCAR

“You are an idiot.”

That’s the first thing Luke hears when he wakes up in the Camp’s infirmary. He feels groggy, sluggish and slow and barely registered that you were in the room.

He faintly tasted his mother’s cooking. A small comfort for the consequences of failing his quest. His heart is filled with embarrassment and pity and dejection.

You snapped your fingers by his ears. “I know you’re awake. You hear me? You are an idiot!”

“If you’re here to make fun of me failing my quest, go away.” Luke groaned and turned on his side, despite the pain flaring in his abdomen.

"Luke." You said in a much softer tone. You were concerned about his injuries since he returned from the quest. "You know I wouldn't do that, not with something this serious.”

You helped him sit up in the infirmary bed and cup his cheek. He felt a gauze patch rather then your warm palm on his right cheek. “I’m saying you’re an idiot for not letting me come with you!”

“You can’t do everything by yourself.”

Love is fickle and strange thing. Luke and you promised that if either of you went on a quest, you’d bring each other. Yet, Luke couldn’t keep his promise.

He couldn’t see his girl—best friend, his best friend get hurt because of a stupid promise. He wouldn’t forgive himself if you went out he quest and got injured in some way, shape or form.

Even if you hadn’t gotten hurt, he might’ve— he would’ve gotten worse injuries from being distracted by your beauty. He could never tear his eyes from you whenever you entered the room.

In hindsight, it was a really bad way to go about things.

“I’m fine, aren’t I?” Luke responded and couldn’t hold himself back. He interlaced his fingers with yours, knowing you were still pissed when he didn’t choose you or anyone, for that matter, to join him on his quest to retrieve a Golden Apple from the Garden of Hesperides.

He resented his father and the gods for not caring for his wellbeing during the quest.

“Yes, but—” You protested.

At least you cared for his wellbeing. You caring about him was better than any god or goddess on Olympus.

His eyes softened. His mind screaming the words he was too scared to say to you out loud. “I love you.” He loved you for caring about his wellbeing. His safety.

“Yes, but nothing.” Luke retaliated and squeezed your hand to assure you. “I’m okay, I’m alive and have some cool ass scars now.”

Luke grinned as he was able to produce a laugh from you. Your laugh was like music to his ears. His own ambrosia in human form.

“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes playfully.

“Never.”

II. SPARRING

“Again.” Luke demanded as he pointed the celestial bronze sword at your throat. The sun beating down on the two of you as you trained. A past time as the days got boring.

“Fuck off.” You scoffed and laid back in the grass that laid beneath the pair’s feet. The grass tickling your arms and legs.

“C’mon! Up and at it. The momentum will wear off.” Luke helplessly convinced you to try and spar him again.

“Oh no, what ever will we do?” Sarcasm bled through your tone. You pushed yourself to sit up and leaned against the rack contained to celestial bronze swords.

Luke shook his head and grinned. He pushed back his chocolate curls to wipe the sweat from his forehead. He joined you on the grassy floor.

“Five minute break then.” Luke nodded.

“Ten minutes.” You negotiated and looked over at Luke. His scar was healing nicely, no infections—just a clean cut from his eye to his jaw. “You can’t expect to be up and at it after training with the greatest swordsman for an hour straight.”

Maybe it was the heat or maybe it was from the training. Luke’s cheeks became pink. He knew his siblings and other demigods talked about him being the “greatest swordsman”, but hearing it from you was different.

“You think I’m the greatest swordsman?” Luke said with a teasing grin.

“Not after I’m done with you.”

“Say that to the many times you hit the floor.”

“I was going easy on you!”

Luke and you burst out in laughter at your banter, unable to keep a serious conversation. He thought your laughter could brighten up the Underworld. Hades would even agree.

Again, those three words would cross his mind. “I love you.” He loved bantering with you back and forth. How dare he try to ruin the moment with his romantic phrases.

“C’mon!” You huffed and pushed yourself to stand up. You were obliviously to the admiration in his eyes. The celestial bronze sword gripped loosely in your hand.

“What happened to the ten minutes?” Luke titled his head up only slightly to look at you. A stupid grin on his face. He stood up to get in position

“I can train when I damn want too.”

“Don’t start complaining about being tired then.”

He never tore his eyes away from yours as you thrusted the blade at his torso.

III. STARS

Luke had no idea where the line between lover and friendship was crossed. He had absolutely no idea when he started to see you more as a crush rather than his best friend.

Though he did notice his stomach started to twist and turn every time he saw you. He noticed his heart raced a little faster every time he heard your laugh.

Luke found himself gravitating towards you during dinner, training, capture the flag—like a moth to burning flame. Would he find himself getting burned for pursuing you?

“Hey.”

Luke spoke as the wooden dock creaked beneath his feet. You were sitting on the edge of the dock. The night sky lit up with tiny bright lights. You gave him a smile (one that could melt his heart) and patted the space next to you.

“You doing okay?” Luke asked and sat next to you. His leg touching yours. The lake rippled. The moonlight shining down on it.

“I just—needed a break.” You reassure Luke. “From gods, goddesses, prophecies, quests…all of it.”

The chirps and cheeps of the birds and animals filled the silence. A background noise. Luke felt your head lean against his shoulder. His heart beat quicker. He hesitantly wrapped his arm around your shoulder. Comfort, he convinced himself.

“You can’t really escape being a half-blood.” Luke consulted and rubbed his hand up and down your arm. You hummed in agreement.

You were quite glad Luke joined you. These nights on the dock, after dinner, were getting lonely. The silence is comfortable save for the wildlife in the forest.

Faintly, ever so faintly, you heard Luke speak three words. Three words you would never hear from him.

“I love you…”

Gods.

He didn’t even realize it. His lips were making the consonants and vowel sounds. Luke didn’t know until you picked up your head from his shoulder. Your eyes wide with shock and what he had hoped was…relief.

“What…?” You mumbled.

Did he just ruin his friendship with you? Did he just lose his best friend because he said his thoughts out loud? Luke thought he had better control over that.

“What?” He responded and let his arm fall from your shoulders.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing.”

“Luke.”

His breath hitched. He felt lovesick. Like Aphrodite personally made his body malfunction during this moment. “I…”

“I love you…” Luke avoided your gaze like he was ashamed to have a crush on you.

How did you feel? Would you reject him in a heart beat? Would you ridicule him? Thoughts swam his mind.

Before he could get too into his head, he felt a soft pair of lips pressed against his. Your eyes closed and he willed himself to close his eyes as well. Melting, melting into your touch, your lips.

When you pulled away, his eyes opened. He was graced with the sight of you in the moonlight. “What?” He spoke breathlessly.

“What?” You responded slightly confused and scared you made the moment uncomfortable.

“You…” Luke paused and closed his mouth as he tried to formulate the words. To form a coherent thought. He just…he wanted that to never end. He finally got what he yearned for (and he wasn’t rejected?). He got you.

“Is this real?” Luke asked and you laughed. His stomach churned with butterflies.

“Yes!” You answered and interlaced your fingers with his.

“May I?”

“You’d be a pretty bad demigod if you didn’t.”

And once again, Luke got the kiss the girl. He got the kiss the girl he been pining over for gods know how long.

—– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • · —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–

#luke castellan #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan x reader #pjo series #percy jackon and the olympians #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan fluff

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ssahotchnerr · 6 months

Note

Ok I just got this image in my head of working out at the FBI gym to unwind after a particularly bad case, and Aaron had the same idea and so you're just there getting distracted because you can't help but stare at him and maybe he finally notices and he's amused - I would die (a happy death)

distractions

you and me both <3 cw; gn!, bau!reader, mutual pining, suggestiveness, your basic cm case descriptions, aaron being hot per usual

your first priority after the jet touched down - the bau's gym.

the case had been unsettling; a not-so-happy ending. sure, you had gotten the guy, but not before he had taken out his most recent victim. he had known it was only a matter of time until he was caught, he had known police had shut down the surrounding area, and managed to complete his endgame before being apprehended.

it happened, sucked when it did. and rather than going straight home, a distraction was in order; to move your body instead of laying in the dark internalizing what could have been done differently.

at the late hour, you expected the gym to be empty, and you had been correct, until aaron walked in about ten minutes after you did.

he seemed just as surprised to see you as you did him, silently nodding a hello at you, heading for the treadmills.

you had been on a yoga mat, stretching and warming up your muscles before doing anything strenuous. but at the sight of him, your impending workout plans were far gone.

you were used to seeing aaron in his usual suit, you'd seen him in casual clothes a few times due to team outings, but nothing could have prepared you for the skin-tight black shirt he was sporting. it was clinging in the all right places - his torso, biceps, and yup - you could've sworn he did have the faintest of abs.

you've always been attracted to him, but this. your mouth had immediately gone dry, your body felt warm despite your lack of movement, and no pure thoughts were in your mind in any capacity.

you tried your hardest to not look, but you couldn't tear your eyes away. how could you not? first reason being, it was him. and then the longer he ran, the sweat caused his shirt to stick to his skin more if it were possible, his chest rose up and down the heavier he breathed. as he jogged his calves flexed, and god were his thighs sexy. his shorts were on the longer side, mid-thigh to be exact, leaving more to the imagination than you would have preferred. but the slightly, newly exposed skin was still, well, new.

so you stayed put, choosing to just admire the view before you. but hopefully to not be too obvious, you performed sit ups; lingering upright to grant yourself the visual before laying back down.

well, at least this is one way to forget about the case.

give or take another five minutes, aaron adjusted the treadmill's settings, slowing to a stop.

"that's it?" you teased, a soft laugh leaving you as you straightened your legs out, reaching for your toes.

as if you were the one to speak, barely moving an inch.

"yeah," he took a swig of his water bottle, panting as he caught his breath. "it's a bit hard to focus with you here."

caught.

"oh my god," your face burned with embarrassment, scrambling to your feet. "i didn't mean to- i mean, you just looked so..."

aaron laughed handsomely, approaching you as your words trailed off. "i meant i don't want to trip over my feet. especially not with you here. it wouldn't look very good for me, i don't think."

oh? "oh."

"but go on." aaron teased, his lips pulling into a smirk as his eyes met yours, dropping for a moment. he was studying you this time around - the light sweat coating your skin, and not very subtly staring at your lips. his breath picked up again, his gaze returning to yours. you also realized, he was dangerously close. "i looked...?"

you swallowed, blinking up at him and managing a soft, "what?"

"i saw you staring. now c'mon, don't start something you can't finish, sweetheart."

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds smut #criminal minds drabble #aaron hotchner drabble #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #hotch imagine #criminal minds x you

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berryzxx · 6 months

Note

Hello! could you maybe do something with Grayson Hawthorne x reader, something fluffy, thank you so much!

Lazy Mornings

Summary: Grayson doesn't want to wake up and makes you stay with him in bed for as long as possible

Grayson Hawthorne x reader

I blinked away the lingering sleep and tried to make out the time. It was nearly ten. It was nearly ten?? I turned to look at Grayson who was sleeping peacefully, his blonde hair in soft waves, no longer neat and tidy like usual. I liked his hair like this. It was something I only got to see. Grayson Hawthorne with messy hair was a sight to behold. He looked so peaceful that it took all my will power to murmur his name, trying to wake him up.

"Grayson?" I whispered, pushing away the hair that had fallen forward onto his forehead. He mumbled something before tightening his grip around my waist and burying his face into the crook of my neck. As much as I loved the warmth of our bed and the way Grayson was holding me we had places to be this morning. If I was late to another brunch with Avery and Jameson, I'm pretty sure they would stop inviting us to double dates. Grayson would be happy to hear that seen as though he was always saying "I want to go on a date with you. Just us two. If I wanted Jamie along I would just sit at home".

I shifted closer to Grayson tracing his features, his soft lips, his sharp jaw, his eyebrows that were probably more perfect than mine. "Gray. We need to wake up"

He let out a warm breath on to my neck and pulled his face back to survey me. His lips turned up in a small smile. "Morning, love"

God, I heard his voice every day but in the mornings it was just something else. I gave him a smile back "Good morning. We're going to be late if we don't wake up"

He rolled his eyes "Does it matter?" His hand moved up and down my back in a steady rhythm, a technique he used to help me fall asleep when I couldn't. I placed a hand on his arm so he would stop otherwise I would sleep until I missed brunch and dinner.

"Come on Gray. We've planned this for ages"

I don't think he heard me because instead of getting up he shifted his weight until he was on top of me, his arms on either side of my head making sure all his weight wasn't about to squash me into the bed.

"What are you doing?"

"Giving you your morning kiss" He leaned down to place a kiss on my cheek, then he moved to my other cheek, slowly peppering kisses all over my face and neck. I reached up to hold his face still and kissed him full on the lips. Every kiss was like our first in the best way possible.

His grey eyes pierced me, amusement evident on his features once he pulled away. "Was that a distraction technique, darling?"

I tried to keep a straight face but failed miserably "Maybe"

He slowly lowered him self down and wrapped his arms around me again, resting his head on my chest.

"Just five more minutes"

I ran my fingers through his hair the silk strands escaping my fingers. "Fine, but if we're late your making up the excuse"

"Whatever you want, love" He murmured, before his breathing evened out, his heart beat in sync with mine.

-> Masterlist <-

#grayson hawthorne x reader #grayson hawthorne #grayson hawthorne x you #grayson x reader #the final gambit #the inheritance games #the hawthorne brothers #my fic #the brothers hawthorne #grayson hawthorne x y/n #request #ask reply #hawthorne legacy #jameson and avery #avery grambs #avery kylie grambs #jameson hawthorne #fluff #the hawthorne legacy

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heeliopheelia · 10 months

Text

"i can't resist you, you know that" (niki x fem! reader)

genre: fluff word count: 0.6k requested by nonnie ♡

a/n: hi hello babes i'm back from my short break!! i just realized i've been kinda neglecting our maknae line so sorry for that... btw i tried to mix up the two prompts like you wanted me to, love!! sorry that it came out so simple and maybe a bit borning but i'm still overcoming my writer's block <33

masterlist

The forest is quiet. The sweet chirping of a bird accompanies the shimmer of the thin stream running down to your right. The weather is as close to perfection as it can get – the sunshine pleasantly warms both of your faces but not strongly enough to make you hide underneath the roof of a cap. Riki smiles politely at the couple of elders that pass you by with energetic steps, engaged in a quiet conversation.

The forest is quiet for a very short while until you break it for the seventh time in the past five minutes. A loud whine echoes through the empty path as you slowly drag your feet on the ground, acting almost as if they weighted a tone. Riki's hand holds your tightly and practically drags your tired body behind him as he continues to walk up the small hill.

"I can't do it," you breathe out, mewling out the syllables for the dramatic effect. "If you don't stop walking right now, I'm seriously gonna die. I can feel it in my bones, Riki."

"It was literally your idea to go for a hike in the first place," he scoffs, turning over his shoulder to flick your sun-kissed nose. He giggles at the way it scrunches and you smack his hand away. "You don't get to complain now when you're the initiator of this plan."

You huff, a pout making its way on your lips slowly. "You're so mean. Good to know my boyfriend finds my misery amusing."

"C'mon, none of that now." He rolls his eyes, nodding his head to the paddled path ahead of you. "There's not that much left. Only ten minutes or so till we make it to the top."

A very predictable idea crosses your mind after his words and Riki sighs as he watches your eyes widening with a sparkle, already knowing you well enough to know what you're about to ask.

"No. No, no. Stop looking at me like that," he scowls, backing away from your slouched figure. You follow him immediately, stepping even closer as your hand traps his wrist in a grip. "You promised not to do that. I can't resist you, you know that. You're simply abusing your power now."

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. "Oh, c'mon. What's even the point of having a big, strong boyfriend if he can't even carry me for couple minutes?"

Riki scoffs at your pathetic attempt of stroking his ego. Another giggle leaves his lips as you keep pouting at him, eyes shining with the silent plead. A grown ass woman pulling a tantrum like a goddamn toddler.

His eyes drop down to your slightly puckered lips. And, Lord, you just look so cute to him right now. Irresistible, really, just like he predicted after seeing the look on your face before. You always do that whenever you're determined to get whatever it is you want. You have him wrapped around your little finger and he doesn't think you even realize how much power you actually hold over him.

Not able to help himself, he leans in and closes the gap parting the two of you, kissing you right on the mouth. The heat instantly rises to the tips of your ears and you'd squirm away out of fluster if not for his hands firmly holding you to his chest. With a sigh, you lift your hands to cup his cheeks and just when you're about to deepen the kiss, he's pulling away from you, leaving you all flushed and already breathless.

"Hop on then, you baby," he sighs as he turns around, motioning for you to jump on his back. "This time and this one time only, I give you the permission to make use of this big, strong boyfriend of yours that you're so clearly obsessed with."

"I am not!"

"Lying like that is not suitable for a lady, you know?"

You smack him in the shoulder, the sound of his chuckles instantly bringing warmth to your belly. Finally satisfied now that your legs have stopped feeling as if they were being set ablaze with each every step of yours, you cling to Riki's neck and rest your cheek against his shoulder blade, sighing in content.

"Yeah, you're right. He's the best."

permanent taglist: @bambisgirl @arizejkt19 @luvmura @milisabunny @cathy-1997 @satoruskitchenrag @ramenoil @jenjnk @jaylaxies @yoongspi

#enhypen imagines #enhypen x reader #enhypen #carly's 1k event ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა #1k event: requests ✎#nishimura riki x reader #niki x reader #niki imagines #niki drabbles #enhypen fluff #niki fluff

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thetempleofthemasaigoddess · 4 months

Text

Gentleman caller

Sanji x reader. NSFW!!

This fic was inspired by Usopp visiting Kaya at her mansion at night. One Piece of course is not that sort of story, but... what if things were allowed to get a little more spicy?

TAGGING @holymusicalmothman @b7717 @mcereal @aamon47 Thanks for asking!!

*****

"Are you sure you don't want a glass of warm milk before you go to bed, miss?"

"I am sure, Kyla." you answer politely. The truth is you haven't drunk a glass of milk to help you fall asleep since you were ten (that is, almost half your life) but your governess keeps asking, every single night, and every single night you answer no; still, you know she does it out of worry and affection for you, which you sincerely appreciate "I think I'll go now; will you tell my father good-night for me, when he returns?"

Kyla promises she will, and returns to the kitchen to clean up after dinner, while you walk out of the villa's large dining room, cross a long corridor and climb the stairs to the upper floor, finally reaching your bedroom.

Except for Kyla in the kitchen you are alone, since the cook and the gardener, who do not reside in the villa, already left, and your father is as usual busy with a business dinner. You don't feel lonely exactly, since that state of affairs has been going on since your mother died when you were still too young to remember her, but it does feel a little weird to live in such a large place, no less than twelve bedrooms on the first floor alone and at least six other rooms that have been closed for years since you literally don't know how to occupy them, when it's only the two of you... a waste of space, even though you and your father often host parties and receive many guests.

And the most important of those visitors by far is going to arrive soon, a person your father has no idea has already visited so many times before...

You take off your shoes, and spend a few minutes in the en-suite bathroom refreshing yourself before closing the bedroom's door behind you. You sigh, happy and excited, as you let yourself fall on the bed, observing the room you have slept in since you were maybe six and that you will soon leave: the desk cluttered with paper models, scarps of fabric and sewing tools; the two mannequins wearing your latest creations, a green cocktail dress and a simpler but elegant light blue men's shirt; the bookstore full of sewing manuals, fashion catalogs and the biographies of your favourite designers; the large poster on a wall, depicting a famous, elegantly dressed model... and the glass door that, only a few minutes after you have retired to your room, starts being hit by tiny pebbles, picked from the garden below.

Your guest is here. You happily stand from the bed, glance quickly to the full length mirror on the wall to make sure your hair is combed and in order, and reach the glass door to quickly step onto the balcony.

Standing in the garden under you like a suitor ready to serenade you, more handsome than a fairy-tale hero and beaming as if about to see all his dreams come true, is him. The former assistant cook of your family, your best friend in the world, your...

"Sanji!" you call out to him, voice barely rising above a whisper as you wave your hand at him, a greeting he returns in kind, clearly happy to see you, hidden among the trunks of the centuries-old trees; the night is particularly dark, heavy clouds covering the crescent moon and most of the stars, but his smile is brighter than any other source of light.

"Are you alone?" Sanji asks urgently as he glances all around him; no one has reason to visit the garden at this hour and the balcony is oriented towards the back of the villa, far from the main entrance through which your father would come in, but you both know how imperative it is to keep your rendez-vous secrets.

"I am; my dad hasn't returned yet and Kyla is in the kitchen. You can come up."

When you decided you would meet in secret at night, five years ago, you had offered to find a rope for him to climb, but Sanji never needed it. Tonight, as usual, you look on as he nimbly climbs the tree closest to the villa's wall, clinging to the huge trunk and then to the largest branches until he's jumping above the balcony and directly in your arms.

You embrace each other, your profiles standing out against the light filtering from the room, and for a full minute neither feels the need to talk. Sanji's arms hold you close by the waist, his lips pressed against your temple in a chaste kiss; you lose yourself in his scent, the costly perfume you bought for him because you knew he liked but couldn't afford it and and that never fails to make you shiver, as you enjoy the sensation of his slim but strong body pressed against yours.

"Do you have it?" you ask after a while, pulling away just enough to look at him in the eyes; you thought about nothing else for days, more nervous than if it had been your own future career at stake "The answer from the school. Did you receive it?"

"I have."

"... and?!"

Sanji, as usual neatly dressed in one of the dark suits he wears at work, smiles at you, his fingers brushing against your face; a small backpack hangs from his shoulder. "Can we go inside before we talk?" he proposes "I have something for you as well."

Knowing he brought you a treat from the restaurant he works at makes you happy, but nothing beats the simple, pure pleasure of his company. Wordlessly you take his hand to lead him inside, leaving the now empty balcony behind.

*****

Your friendship with Sanji began exactly one decade ago; you were the only daughter of a powerful politician, living alone with him at the villa and whose pathological shyness had left her virtually friendless, him a newly orphaned boy your father had decided to hire as assistant to the cook, so that he could support himself. One afternoon, you visited the kitchen to ask for a snack, since you were starving and dinner was still hours away; the cook told you that he was sorry but your father, already then worried for your weight, had strictly forbidden him from feeding you between meals. You noticed Sanji, busy scrubbing a large pot in the sink, but he seemed so focused on his job you decided not to disturb him to introduce yourself.

You left, disappointed but unwilling to insist, out of respect for both your father and the cook who was just following orders, but a few minutes later, as you studied in the library, he joined you, a nervous smile on his face and a salami sandwich in his hands.

"Please don't tell anyone, especially not your dad." he told you as he put it in your hands "I hope you liked it, I put some mayonnaise on it because I saw the cook used it to prepare your school lunch yesterday."

You did (and still do) like mayonnaise on your sandwiches, and in that moment you were doubly astonished: that he heard your request for a snack even though he had looked so engrossed in the cookware to wash, and that he had decided to risk your father's wrath to help you, less than a week after being hired.

"Thank you, I... thank you so much! That was very kind of you." you told him, for once forgetting your shyness "My name is (name). What's yours?"

"I'm Sanji. And don't worry; I'm sure your dad means well, but no one should starve, especially not at our age. Don't tell anyone, ok? I know he forbade the cook from feeding you snacks, and i'm not supposed to visit the family's wing of the villa without a valid reason."

You obviously kept his secret, and from that day on, you and Sanji quickly became inseparable, spending together all your free time from school and work; he secretly fed you every time your father's concern about your weight made the cook limit your meals, and you used your allowance to buy him cooking books he studied to pursue his dream of becoming a famous chef. Apart from your father, you had never loved anyone like him; Sanji was the other half of your soul, an acerbic but steadfast feeling that made you sure you would never feel alone, as long as he were by your side, and you would not have left him for all the treasures, and the good food, in the world.

Your father, who was happy you had finally made a friend and didn't mind you had chosen the kitchen boy and not one of your school mates, who belonged to the city's most affluent and prominent families, never had anything against it... at least until you were both fourteen, when he suddenly decided it was inappropriate for the two of you to spend so much time together; as a sign of peace, he found Sanji a more prestigious job in a famous restaurant at the other side of the city. That, in your father's opinion, would have meant the end of your friendship, but it obviously didn't: and after all, with all the sandwiches and portions of dessert he had snuck you, hadn't your friendship been based on secrecy since the very beginning?

For five years Sanji has spent with you almost every evening he is free from the restaurant; he climbs the trees next to your balcony and you let him in, and sometimes you spend the whole night talking, or leave together to visit a bar or go dancing. Is it dangerous, should your father discover what you are up to? Undoubtedly so, especially since you know he only worries about you, whether it is about the food you eat or the places you visit in a large and dangerous city; but you are an adult, more than old enough to decide how to live your life, and Sanji is always ready to protect you when someone bothers you in a club, and he would never feed you something that could seriously endanger your health. You don't know why exactly your father has suddenly decided you mustn't be friends with him anymore, but you are determined not to lose him, especially now that your relationship has started evolving beyond mere friendship... and your own dreams risk separating you forever.

*****

"So? What did the school say?" you insist as Sanji closes the glass door behind the two of you; your heart is pounding, wishing with every fiber of your being you could change the decision the commission must have taken days ago "Did you get in?"

For years Sanji has dreamed of attending the most prestigious cooking school in the country, the Baratie Culinary Arts Academy in the capital; this year he has finally reached the required age to enroll, but the entrance examination, that your friend has taken two weeks ago, is notoriously difficult, especially for who, like Sanji, also has to apply for a scholarship. Your friend was meant to receive the results of his exam today, and you had decided you would also share your own secret with him... and then, hopefully, you would both have something to celebrate.

"I'll tell you in a minute."

"Sanji, please... I haven't thought about anything else all day!" you complain, fearing your friend's reticence is due to shame for his failure; Sanji, busy emptying his backpack on your desk, smiles, before rubbing the back of his head.

"The truth is... I haven't opened the letter yet." he admits "I hoped we could do it together... mainly because I don't have the courage to do it by myself."

There is nothing wrong with wanting a friend close when one is both scared and excited for something, but in that moment your heart breaks for Sanji: he has lost his parents, had to take care of himself since he was still a child, and while he has a good job and could try again next year, being refused admission to the Baratie would break his heart.

You wait patiently as Sanji quickly sets the table for the two of you: cutlery, napkins, glasses, a bottle of water and his latest effort in the kitchen: two portions of a delicious chocolate cake, bigger than what your father would allow you to eat but still relatively small, since your friend does care about your health.

"This looks delicious, Sanji!" you exclaim, as always happy to taste your friend's latest creations "But wait..."

You walk to the small fridge next to the door, almost hidden under a pile of scraps of fabric left over from your latest creation and that you will find a use for one day, and retrieve a small but expensive bottle of champagne that you have bought in the afternoon.

"I thought we could use it to celebrate; I have also taken two flutes from the kitchen." you explain.

"I still don't know if I got in, (name)."

"I'm sure you did. And if the chefs at the Baratie can't see, and taste, how extraordinarily talented you are, it's their loss." you point out "You wanna open it?"

A minute later you are sitting face to face at your desk, cake and champagne ready to be enjoyed, the white envelope Sanji took from his backpack in your hands.

"Shall I?" you ask softly; your friend, who has never looked so pale and so young, nods.

"Please."

You both hold your breath as you open the envelope and then unfold the single sheet of paper inside. You make sure Sanji cannot see your face as you read...

"So? What... what does it say?"

"Sanji, I'm so sorry..."

"Oh, God..." your friend, heartbroken, stares at you for a moment before slumping on his chair, face hidden in his hands "I can't believe it... I was so sure..."

"I'm sorry because you have some very difficult years ahead..."

"... what?"

"Of course. Nights spent studying, sharing a room with six other people, waking up extra-early to go to class... Really, I don't envy you..."

Finally you look at him, beaming, while Sanji's eyes grow bigger as he slowly catches the meaning of your words.

"You mean...?"

"You got in! And you got the scholarship as well. Oh, Sanji, I'm so proud of you! I knew you could do it!"

You stand and embrace, laughing with shared delight. "I can't believe it." Sanji murmurs, still as he looks at the admission letter, signed by Zeff, a famous chef who is the Baratie's headmaster "There were so many people at the exam, and at one point I was so nervous I spilled a bowl of vinaigrette on my apron..."

"As I said, an important school like the Baratie, with so many experienced chefs, couldn't not recognize your talent." you point out, happier than you remember ever being "Classes start in a month, you'll have to give your notice at the restaurant."

"Yeah..."

Sanji takes your hands in his, kissing them devotedly. "I could have never done it without you." he murmurs, with the sort of gaze and inflection that, years after your first kiss, still makes you shiver "All the books you have bought me... and it was you who convinced me to apply. I owe you so much, (name)."

"You would have done the same for me; and we both know the two of us are beyond this sort of talk. I am so happy for you, truly; I know you will become a great chef."

Sanji smiles, circling your waist with his arm as he uses his free hand to pick one of the flutes from the desk. "Shall we celebrate, then?"

"Actually..."

"Actually?"

"Actually, I also have something to tell you." you admit, a new, excited smile opening on your face "You know that important fashion school in the capital, the one many of my favourite designers attended?"

Fashion has always been your greatest passion; you have designed clothes since you were a child, and thanks to a family friend who owns a large tailor shop you have learnt the basics of the trade, how to cut fabric, sew and tailor an item of clothing. Your father, who approves of your interests, has offered to introduce you to some fashion designers his friends or associates are acquainted to, but you are determined to accept no recommendations and take no shortcuts; just like Sanji, and any person who has to work hard to realize their dreams, you will pursue your education, earn an apprenticeship at a fashion house, and in time, hopefully, open your own and make a name for yourself as a designer. It will take you years and fashion is a famously difficult field to break into, but you are determined to give your all, so that whatever the future may bring you will be free from regret, and live doing what you love.

"Of course; the Nefertari Vivi Fashion Institute." Sanji promptly answers; miss Vivi is one of your idols, a ground-breaking designer who has revolutionized the fashion world and then focused on teaching, establishing one of the best-reputed educational institutions of the field "So what?"

You smile, still excited almost a week after receiving your own letter, that you asked your father to open for you.

Sanji gapes. "You are kidding."

"I am not!"

Your friend laughs. "And you didn't tell me anything!" he exclaims, and you apologize, telling him you didn't want to disappoint both of them in the not unlikely event you were not admitted.

"But you were?"

You still can't believe it yourself. "I was! There was no exam; I only had to send miss Vivi some of my creations, and a few days ago I received the acceptance letter."

"(name), that's amazing!"

"I know! I can't wait to begin. I also apply for a scholarship, but unfortunately I didn't get it."

Sanji asks whether you plan on asking your father to pay for your classes, but you shake your head: you need to learn to take care of yourself, living alone once you'll move to the capital and earning money to support yourself. To this end, you have contacted a friend who lives in the capital and owns a bookstore: she has accepted to hire you, and you have sold your jewels to pay your tuition fees.

"(name), you didn't!" Sanji exclaims, flabbergasted "Those were your mom's things..."

"I know." you sigh, still feeling saddened and a bit guilty even though you know you did the right thing "But this is my future we are talking about, the opportunity to build a career, and a life for myself, without my father taking care of me or using my family's money to buy whatever I need or want. I want to earn my keep, Sanji; I want to prove I can take care of myself, and that I am more than a spoiled little girl."

Sanji softly points out that no one who knows you could ever think that; he smiles, his handsome face expressing a joy too great and deep for words, as he takes you in his arms once more. "So we are both moving to the capital to study." he mentions "And pursue our dreams. Which means we'll both be very busy..."

"... but we won't have to hide our relationship anymore." you happily finish for him, having already reflected on the matter; you plan on living in a student residence, since their rooms are cheaper than other types of accommodation, and guests are usually not admitted, but at least you will be able to meet in the open, having dates like any other couple instead of having to hide like a married man with his mistress, lest your father learns about your relationship "I can't wait! In a month we'll both be living in the capital, studying with the best in our fields, and nothing will stop us from being together. I... I don't think I've ever been so happy!"

"Me neither." Sanji agrees, one of the flutes in his hand once more "Shall we drink to our future? And then enjoy the cake?"

You agree, but you barely have had the time to clink your glasses together when a sudden noise reaches your ears: an unexpected, but otherwise innocuous noise, at least for who, unlike the two of you, has nothing to hide...

A soft but firm knocking on the door.

Sanji looks at you, suddenly tense; you turn your eyes to the door, wishing to be able to see beyond it. "Yes?"

"(name), it's dad. May I come in?"

The flute almost slips from Sanji's fingers; terrified as if a whole army were standing at the other side of the door, ready to barge in and tear both to pieces, you both nonetheless act quickly, having prepared for such an occurrence since your first nocturnal meeting. Your friend quickly retrieves the flutes and the champagne bottle, while you do the same with the cake plates and the other things placed on your desk; a moment later, Sanji has slipped under your bed, a dusty and uncomfortable hiding spot where nonetheless he'll be safe from your father.

I hope.

"(name)? Is everything all right?"

"Just a moment, dad! I'm coming!" you answer, hoping you sound less nervous, almost terrified, than you feel; you quickly glance all around you, making sure no trace of Sanji's presence is visible, and finally go open the door.

"Hello, dad. How was dinner?" you ask, approaching to kiss him on the cheek; even though he interrupted you and Sanji, you're happy he came to say good-night to you before retiring to his own bedroom.

"Pretty good, even though the lemon cake was not up the restaurant's usual standard. Are you ok?"

"Yes, of course; I was... preparing to go to bed." you answer vaguely, before something in your peripheral vision makes you tense; it is Sanji's backpack, placed where your friend had left it less than half an hour ago: on the bed, perfectly visible.

Shit. SHIT. Shitshitshitshit...

You move a step to the right, so as to prevent your father from noticing the backpack; it is not as compromising as if he had found Sanji's tie, or his shoes, but he could notice the backpack is a men's model, and inside he could find your friend's personal documents, five years after he had forbidden you from having further contact with him. Don't look at it. Don't see it. Please please please...!

Thank God your father, a clever and perceptive man, seems unconcerned with out-of-place objects in your room. "I was thinking tomorrow we could go buy a new suitcase for you; you need a large one, since you'll have to bring most of your things when you'll move to the capital. I hope you'll allow me to pay for that at least."

You smile, grateful for the offer and even more for the intention. "Of course, dad. Thank you."

He smiles, taking your hands in his. "I am so proud of you." he murmurs "I have always known you had a great talent for fashion, but being admitted to such a prestigious school... You'll become the greatest designer of your generation, I'm sure."

"Dad..."

"Please, let me be happy for you. You know I'm always there if you need something, right? I know you have found a job, and you are smart and mature enough to take care of yourself, but if you ever need money, or you want to come home, you can do it; no judgement. Oh, I wish your mom could see you..."

You bite your lip, suddenly unable to talk; a lump of emotion blocks your throat. You are happy, and grateful, that your father supports your desire to move to the capital and attend the Nefertari Institute, especially since he's so protective and you know he wished you would one day follow his footsteps and go into politics, and while you can't wait to start your classes and enjoy life in a big city, the thought of leaving him, and the house where you were born, fills you with sadness... and guilt.

"I... I will never thank you enough for everything you have done for me." you murmur, stepping closer to him to hug your father "And I'm sorry if... if I ever made it hard for you, especially after mom died. I love you very much, dad. I'll be back often to visit, I promise; and I'll miss you so much."

"I'll miss you too, my darling girl." your father answers; he's moved as well, but better than you at hiding it "But I'm so proud you're beginning your life in the world. And I hope you'll let me visit you as well."

"Of course! Every time you can."

"Good. Now, we should both go to sleep. I'll see you in the morning."

He kisses you on the forehead, and soon after he's closing the room's door behind him. You are still staring at it when, a minute later, Sanji joins you, resting his hands on your shoulders.

"Are you all right?" he asks softly; he has known you long enough to perceive what you are feeling, the love for your father and the guilt for the relationship you are carrying out behind his back, the efforts you are making to build a life for yourself away from his protective but constrictive influence and the way you'll miss him terribly and feel guilty for leaving as soon as you could.

"Yeah, just... I was just thinking."

You sigh, turning to face Sanji, desperately trying to return to the carefree joy of five minutes ago, and drive away the melancholia filling your heart. After all, it is normal for children to find their way in life away from their family, and your father is still young, dedicated to his job and career, and has many friends and a new partner he is very close to; he'll be all right, and whatever loneliness and melancholy he will feel, you know he will accept it.

"Your father is a good man." Sanji points out as you both retrieve your drinks and plates from the wardrobe you had hidden them in "He didn't even know me, but he gave me a job when I was alone in the world, and then he found me an even more prestigious one at the restaurant; every berry I ever earned I owe it to him. I'll never forget all the help he gave me."

You smile, happy to hear your friend talk well about your father. "You still have a good opinion of him even if he forbade us from being friends?"

"Well, I shouldn't resent him for that, since we never stopped seeing each other. And he only wanted to protect you, which I can understand."

You blink. "... sorry? What are you talking about?"

"Right, I... I never told you, did I?"

Sanji rubs the back of his neck, suddenly bashful. "You never wondered why your dad was suddenly against us being friends?"

You had. "Well... I thought it was because we weren't children anymore... and you a boy and I a girl..."

"Exactly, but... there was something else. When I was fourteen, I... I wrote you a letter; there was something important I needed to tell you, but I couldn't find the courage to do it in person. I left it on your pillow one day while you were in school, but your father found it... and read it."

You wait for Sanji to elaborate, but he seems focused on staring at the floor, avoiding your gaze. "It was... something inappropriate for a father to read...?"

"Nothing vulgar, if that is what you are wondering; but... it did say I wanted us to be more than friends, and this is what your father opposed, not that I was an orphan without money and prospectives, but because he thought you were too young for that sort of relationship. So... so he asked me to leave things between us as they were, and when I refused, he decided it was better to separate us, and he found me a job at the other side of town, forbidding me from contacting you again, at least until you were of age."

He looks at you, tense since he has no idea how you could react, but the truth is you don't know either. "He sent you away because he didn't want us to date?" you recapitulate in the end, flabbergasted "What would have been so wrong about that? Lots of girls get a boyfriend at fourteen, and he knew you, he knew you would treat me well..."

"Well, he's always been protective of you. Sorry, maybe I should have told you before..."

"It's ok." you reassure him, even though you are not completely sure of it yourself; you understand your father's reasons, and appreciate he didn't simply kick Sanji out in the street, but at the same time you can't believe all of it was to stop your best friend, a boy he knew posed no danger, from confessing his feelings "I... I'm so sorry, Sanji..."

"Well, it wasn't so bad; and as I said, I really don't have a reason to complain, since we did end up becoming more than friends. I felt guilty lying to your dad... but I couldn't give up on you."

He smiles, as he picks one of the flutes up from your desk again. "Now, can we please have a toast to our future?"

You do, happily enjoying your late-night snack; you delicately clink your glasses together before taking a sip, and then feed each other cake, your knees touching under the desk.

Silence has fallen on the room, and on the two of you, as usual when you are with Sanji a comfortable, peaceful silence that you don't feel the need to fill with small talk; you smile at each other, both happy and excited at the future opening in front of you... a future that you will face together as you have always done, finding strength and support in each other.

"Does chef Zeff teaches any class at the Baratie?" you ask after a while; you know the extent of Sanji's admiration for the principal of the cooking school, and it would be amazing for him to learn personally from his idol.

"Not for first-year students; but I heard that he sometimes gives one-on-one classes, if he finds a particularly talented pupil."

"... which means he'll leave all his other classes to tutor you exclusively, as soon as he tastes your True Bluefin sauté... or your salami sandwich."

Sanji smiles; he knows how much faith you have in his cooking abilities, and he never stops being grateful for it. "You're exagerrating."

"I'm not." you very seriously protest, as you clean your dish from any crumble of cake; you know watching your diet means taking care of your health, but you would happily eat three more! "A month and he'll let you skip a year or two, I promise."

"Well, if you are so sure..."

A few minutes later Sanji is putting the dirty plates and cutlery away in his backpack, while you observe the sky out of the glass door, leaning with one shoulder against the wall.

"Once we both live in the capital we won't have to hide anymore, but we'll be so busy with school..." you consider "I'm afraid we won't have a lot of time to spend together."

"Still, it will be an improvement from what we have now. And all the city's school dormitories are in the same campus, which means we can visit each other every time we want."

You nod, still pensive, and a moment later Sanji's arms are circling your waist, his chest pressed against your back.

"It's going to be all right." he murmurs, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear in a way that makes you shiver in such a pleasant way "We are going to be all right, I promise, no matter how busy we are."

"Oh, I know; believe me, I'm not doubting my feelings, or yours. We have waited for so long to be able to live our relationship in the open, and I can't wait to be able to see you every day, even for five minutes between classes or to cram together at night. It's just..."

You turn in his embrace, almost apologetic as you smile at him. "I feel so happy, as if all my dreams were coming true: attending a great school, not having to hide what we share. It is almost too good to be true; and I'm almost afraid to wake up and find out it really was just a dream."

Sanji is too kind to make fun of your fears; he considers them as he holds you close, equally aware that no matter how steadfast your feelings for each other are and even though both of you have rightfully earned admission in the schools of your dreams, you are both beginning a new chapter in life, and neither knows what future may have in store for you.

Still, it is pointless to worry about tomorrow, and Sanji decides that more than reassure you, he wants to make you forget your fears, even if just for a minute. "You know what I'm thinking about?" he asks after a minute, his tone pensive "That I've been here for at least thirty minutes, and I haven't kissed, or been kissed by, you, even once."

"Ah, that won't do."

"It really won't. So..."

He grins, happy to see you smile as well, and when he lifts your chin with his fingers you obediently close your eyes and offer him your mouth to kiss.

Almost three years have passed since your first time, in this very room, and kissing Sanji still makes your heart tremble; he is sweet but passionate, not aggressive but intense enough to leave no doubt about his feelings, and his intentions. You enjoy the feeling of his mouth on yours for a moment before kissing him back, Sanji's lips hot against yours; you feel him smile, his hands now holding you by the waist while yours gently caress his hair and neck.

"Gods, you taste so good..."

"It's the cake, Sanji."

"No, it's not. You are delicious, (name); absolutely... mesmerizing..."

You keep kissing for a while, as your hands start moving on each other's body; Sanji whispers your name, suddenly breathless, as your mouth descends towards his neck, at first gently pecking at the delicate skin of his throat, and then sucking hard enough to make him moan.

"(name)..." he murmurs again, and you smile, circling his hips with your arms; you nuzzle at his chest, the soft fabric of his shirt so familiar and comforting against your skin, and wish you could stay like this forever.

You feel Sanji's hands move on your hips and back, his fingers brushing against the hem of your skirt.

"I like this one." he murmurs in your ear; he is aware of the effect he has on you and exploits it mercilessly "Is it new?"

"Made it myself." you answer proudly; you had seen the skirt on a fashion magazine, and rather than buying it you had decided to see whether you could recreate it "Does it look good on me?"

"You look absolutely ravishing, my darling..."

And ravish is exactly what Sanji seems intent on doing; a minute later your back is pressed against the wall, with a very handsome, very amorous young chef intent on making you forget your very name.

Sanji's back and shoulder muscles are taut under your hands as they run all over his body, like a beautiful clay statue molded by your touch; you can feel his heart pounding against your chest, the tenseness in his body as he tries to restrain himself in order not to unsettle you, not to take more than what you would be ready to offer. Dear Sanji, you think fondly as you arch your back to press your chest against his and finally, finally feel his hands grab at your buttocks, don't you know at this point you don't even have to ask?

Sanji's jacket is the first item of clothing to go, falling on the closest chair after you helped him take it off; he returns the courtesy freeing you from the heavy sweater you wear, leaving you with a tight camisole, the different colour of your bra visible under it. He smiles, clearly appreciating the view, but a moment later his expression turns serious, almost reverent, as he gazes at you, almost as if he couldn't believe he's really holding you in his arms.

"I love you so much, you know that?" he murmurs, and no matter how many times he has already uttered those words, you know how deeply he means them, how utterly and hopelessly devoted he is to you and to what you hope to build together. To be the object of such an intense ardor is... humbling, since you're not quite sure you deserve it, and you could even feel guilty for it, if your feelings for Sanji were not equally deep and strong. You don't remember a day in which you didn't love him, ever since he risked your father's ire (and, consequently, the job he had just gotten) to feed you, there has always been a special place for him in your heart, a place no one else could ever occupy; Sanji is the other half of you, someone who you don't need in order to live but who you want to share your life with. Without him you could go on; but you know you'll never feel complete ever again.

And to express everything you feel -all the love, the joy that fills your heart when he's by your side and the hopes you cherish for your future together- you are unable to say more than...

"I love you too, Sanji."

... and that is more than a little frustrating.

You know what you share goes beyond physical attraction, but you can't deny it is flattering, and exciting, to know you can have that sort of effect on Sanji, a man attractive and charming enough he would have no troubles attracting a date; you sometimes think about the girls he meets at work, or the clients he could easily flirt with when he has to cover for a waiter at the restaurant, but you know he is being sincere when he swears you're the only one he cares about, and that he has never betrayed your trust. On the other hand, you are not good with words and Sanji doesn't care for expensive gifts, which makes you fear, sometimes, you could do more to prove how much you care for him, and how committed you are to your relationship; the truth is, you love him so much, a feeling deeper and more encompassing than anything you thought you would be able to feel, that you lack the words to express it, and any declaration, no matter how grandiose or romantic, would fall short of your actual feelings.

Then, you suddenly realize, maybe you shouldn't tell him; after all, like your father always says, actions do speak louder than words...

Sanji's stares, eyes wide open, as he sees you take off your camisole. A moment later, he hurries to unbutton your shirt, and you move to help him, and somehow, maybe because you're in a hurry or because your hands are shaking, you tear off a button.

"Oh, Gods..." you stutter, embarrassment filling you "I'm so sorry, I... I'll sew it back on, I promise..."

Sanji shakes his head, as if to say you needn't worry; he is a sight to behold, short of breath, his usually pale complexion turned pink with excitement - with lust. He looks at you, he looks at your hands still holding the two panels of his shirt, and orders:

"Tear it off."

"... what?"

"Rip it off me. (name), please, I want you to undress me."

"Are... are you sure?" you ask again; the idea is more than a little exciting, but the experienced seamstress and future fashion designer in you hesitates at the thought of ruining a perfectly serviceable item of clothing.

Sanji grins, desire and affection filling his brown eyes. "Yeah, sure; it's an old one. Please, darling..."

"As you wish..."

A sound of tearing and ripping fills the room, and a moment later Sanji's shirt, now missing every single of its buttons and irreparably damaged, lies on the floor, while he's naked from the waist up - and Gods, just looking at him is enough to make you forget any hesitancy you may have... including the ones regarding the presence of your father, in his bedroom at the other hand of the corridor.

He smiles, more than aware of the effect he's having on you, as he shamelessly stares back at your body. "Come here, my beauty." he invites you, and a moment later he has taken you in his arms once again, your hands moving on each other's newly exposed skin.

"Let's move to the bed." you propose in a whisper between kisses, and laugh softly as Sanji hurriedly picks you up, bridal style, to carry you and delicately lay you down on the light blue sheets of your bed. A minute to take off your shoes, and he has joined you; you are kissing again as he makes quick work of your bra's clasp, but Sanji stops to admire you, lying under him, and for a moment he seems unable to speak.

"You are so beautiful." he murmurs; he looks you in the eyes, to gauge your reaction and make sure he's not overstepping, before letting his hand brush against and then close around your breast "My (name)... I've waited for this moment since I was maybe twelve, you know?"

"You could have told me before."

"A gentleman never asks, he waits for the lady to offer."

You smile, shamelessly enjoying the sensuality of his touch, the delicious sensation of Sanji's warm hands caressing and stimulating and gently squeezing the warm flesh of your chest; he sees you jolt when the pad of his thumb finds your nipple, and smiles, and you smile with him.

"Well, this lady is offering." you point out a moment later; you want there to be no doubt or ambiguity about what you want "I want you, Sanji. Will you make love to me?"

Unexpectedly, and while you can see the desire in his eyes as he looks at you, he hesitates. "You know we don't have to do it." he softly points out "You don't... owe me anything; I don't want you to think this is something we need to do in order to make our relationship last, or since we have been together for a while..."

"I know. I... I just want to live this with you; I want you to be my first, as well the last. I want you, and I'm tired of hiding it."

"(name), I..."

"Sanji, please."

That last word, as well as the tone you utter it in, being begged to take you in his arms and make you scream, would make even the most dispassionate man forget himself, and Sanji is far from that. In a whisper, he asks you to lift your hips, and takes both your skirt and panties off; he licks his lips as he looks at you, as if anticipating what he is going to do to you, and delicately lifts your foot in his hands. His first kiss is placed on your ankle, and then the second at the bottom at your calf, and the third a bit above it, and then on your knee and on your thigh until Sanji is lying on the bed between your open legs, and the sensation of his tongue and hips doing magic on the most hidden part of you is so delicious, so lurid and at the same time heavenly, you have to press your hand to your mouth to keep yourself from screaming. You can feel the wave mounting inside you, and you couldn't stop it even if you wanted to, and a minute later your first real orgasm hits you, and you are shaking in Sanji's grasp as he licks you like a man starved, proud and excited by the pleasure he was able to give you.

Your eyes meet above your heaving chest; you are both smiling, breathless. "That was... amazing." you whisper, and Sanji grins as he reaches to kiss you once more, neither bothering about the taste.

"We have just started." he assures you "Will you help me with my clothes, darling?"

He stands from the bed to let you take his trousers off, smiling softly as he sees how your hands shake; a moment later he's finally naked, and you can't help gulping as you gently take his erection in your hand, heavy and hard. You swallow, and instinctively lower your face to it to lick the tip.

Sanji jumps. "Shit..."

"I'm sorry, I thought... that was ok..." you stammer, suddenly alarmed "Did I hurt you?"

"Hurt?" he repeats, completely breathless, as if he had never heard that word before "Quite... quite the opposite. I... (name), I..."

He can't find the words to describe what he wants, but thank God you know it already, and this is miles beyond what you had already experience in, but you must be naturally talented, or perhaps this is one of those things you simply know how to do. You keep Sanji's eyes in yours as you take his erection in your mouth, swallowing it almost to the base and using your lips, your tongue and even (cautiously) your teeth to give him pleasure; he moans, bucking his hips, his hands caressing your hair.

"God... you're so good, baby... you take me so well..."

Emboldened, you wish you could make him climax with your mouth, but Sanji asks you to stop after a while, smiling as he sees you pout. "As much as I love the feeling of your mouth, there is somewhere else I'd rather come." he tell you as he cleans your lips with his fingers "Let me take care of you."

A silent nod is the only answer you feel able to give, and the only one Sanji needed; your hand guides him back on the bed where, a slight and natural awkwardness covered by your kisses, Sanji lies above you, gently caressing your hair as he lifts your leg above his hips.

"I love you." you murmur; you feel barely able to breathe, but those words easily leave your lips, as natural as a breath "Sanji, let me be with you forever."

He smiles, pressing his forehead to yours; he isn't inside you yet, but the intimacy of that moment goes beyond what you could describe in words, the marvelous feeling of being one, a closeness born from love and passion and trust and empathy. You doubt you will ever feel anyone as close as Sanji is in that moment, and that makes you happy.

"Nothing and no one will ever come between us." he murmurs "I promise."

*****

You spend what feels like hours locked in an embrace, exchanging lazy but hot kisses as your hands explore each other's body. Your fondling makes Sanji grow turgid once more, and he has to use your pillow to suffocate his screaming (yes, screaming) as you do get to make him come in your mouth; he gets even a minute later when you both find out that you really enjoy your chest being sucked, which Sanji does until you are a moaning mess, begging for mercy, and he has to gift you your third orgasm, this time using his fingers, to make you calm down.

This night is perfect; this night feels as if it would never end. Unfortunately, this is not the case, and an hour before dawn, after he risked for the second time to fall asleep with his cheek pressed against your chest and your fingers in his hair, Sanji reluctantly abandons the warmth of your bed, and of your body, to get dressed. You both know it can't be helped; if your father discovered him in your bed, even now that you are an adult and about to go live on your own, the consequences would be catastrophic.

"Things will be different once we have moved to the capital." you reassure him as you pick up what is left of his shirt to throw it away "I want my dad to visit, but we can tell him we met again on campus and decided to date; he does like you, and he'll accept I am old enough to have a boyfriend."

"I hope he will." Sanji considers, as he ties his shoes; he hesitates for a moment, and then: "What if I wanted to tell him the truth?"

"You mean...?"

"About us, yes. I could have never given up on you, (name), but I didn't like lying to your father; I owe him so much, and I'd like give his blessing to our relationship. Don't you?"

Nothing would make you happier, even though, you must admit, the prospect of having to confess you have deliberately disobeyed him for five years is not pleasant; you love your father, and the last thing you have ever wanted was to disappoint him, even though there is no price you wouldn't have paid if it meant being with Sanji. You admire the fact your boyfriend wants to be honest with his benefactor, and you need - no, you want to be as brave as he is.

"Then we will tell him."

"Are you sure?"

"I am. It's not going to be pretty, and I know he'll be very angry, but he deserves the truth. We all do." you point out with a sigh; then, seeing Sanji is almost done getting dressed: "Wait..."

You stand as well, and walk to the mannequin wearing the men's shirt, an elegant light blue model with white collar and cuffs. You return to Sanji to offer him the shirt. "Here, wear this."

"... are you sure?"

"Of course, I had planned to give it to you to celebrate your admission to the Baratie. Try it on, let me see how it looks on you."

It looks great, even though it is perhaps more because of Sanji's good looks and physique than anything else; he carefully buttons it, and happily looks at himself in the full-length mirror. "My favourite tie will go perfectly with this."

"I know, why do you think I chose this colour?"

Naked as you are, you don't feel cold, especially as you feel Sanji's gaze lingering on your body as his brown eyes admire the flesh he has lost himself in just two hours ago, but that he's not yet sated by.

Soon, your smile tells him as you return the gaze, committing the beauty of his lithe but strong body to memory, as soon as we have moved to our dormitories, or as soon as my father has to leave for one of his work trips. I want you again too; I think I'll never stop wanting you.

As usual Sanji seems to understand you without the need for words, because he smiles once more and, as soon as he is done admiring himself in the mirror (which you cannot blame him for; the shirt does look amazing on him!) he takes your face in his hands to kiss you once more. "I am so happy." he murmurs "Happy we got to share this moment. I... I do want to be with you forever, but..."

"... but you are happy I was your first, and you mine. I know, Sanji; I feel the same."

You spend a precious minute like this, your foreheads touching, your fingers intertwined, as you breathe in each other's air and savour that new form of intimacy. In this moment, you are not afraid Sanji can doubt your feelings anymore; but in any case, you promise yourself, you'll still make sure he knows how much you love him, every day from now to eternity.

In the end, it's time for your boyfriend to go. He takes his backpack and insists you put your nightgown on, in case one of the neighbours looks out of their windows, before you accompany him on the balcony, where a last kiss sees him climb over the parapet and cautiously reach the tree's closest branches.

"Thanks for the cake! It was really delicious."

Sanji winks at you, mischievousness dancing in his eyes. "I think you thanked me enough already."

"Oh, you are so vulgar..."

Your laugh follows him as Sanji quickly climbs down the tree, finally reaching the ground safe and sound; he looks up at you and waves, and you wave back, and "I'll be back soon; I promise." he says, and you nod as he starts walking away, and remain where you are until Sanji has disappeared, hidden in the murmuring darkness surrounding the villa.

#One Piece #One Piece Live Action #OPLA #Sanji #Vinsmoke Sanji #Black Leg Sanji x reader l #Black Leg Sanji #Sanji x reader #Vinsmoke Sanji x reader #Black Leg Sanji x reader #Taz Skylar #Bellona's stuff

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forever-rogue · 1 year

Note

I fell in love with the previous holiday request 🥹 can you do another part, maybe Christmas morning and presents? Dad Eddie is so cuteeeee

AN | I love dad Eddie too, so have some more! 🥺🥰

Warnings | None

Pairing | Dad!Eddie x Mom!Reader

Word Count | 2.7k

Masterlist | Main, Eddie

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Daddy,” Eddie heard the small voice calling out to him, but he kept his eyes tightly shut. Maybe if she thought he was still sleeping, she’d give him a break. Wishful thinking. This was his daughter after all. A little hand patted his cheek, “Daddy! Wake up!”

Eddie opened one eye to find Ollie looking at him with big eyes and a shy smile. How on earth was he ever supposed to be mad at her? He reached up and gently poked her cheek, causing her to giggle, “what are you doing up, Ollie Pop?”

“It’s Christmas,” her eyes went wide as she reached for his hand to drag him out of bed, as if she’d accomplish that through sheer force, “you gotta get up! Santa was here!”

“Can I have five more minutes?” he pleaded with her, not ready to leave the comfort of the warm bed and your soft body next to his. She put her hands on his cheeks and made sure he was looking at her, “please?”

“You say that sometimes and then it ends up being forever,” she huffed; she was really calling him out on his little white lies. The kid was too smart for her own good.

“I’m old, Ollie,” he sighed dramatically, “I need my sleep and rest…just like you do. So why don’t go back to bed for a little while?”

“Nope,” she looked so pleased with herself, displaying her big gap-toothed smile as she shook her head, a few dark curls bouncing roguishly, “Daddy, you can’t sleep in on Christmas!”

“Alright, alright,” part of him wanted to say no, but he couldn’t find it in his heart to do, “five minutes then?”

“Five minutes,” she agreed, “I’ll wait in the living room.”

“No peeking at what Santa left! And no touching either,” she scoffed as she walked, giving him a stern look and finger waggle before closing the door behind her, “I mean it, Olivia!”

He heard her yell something inaudible back and chuckled to himself. She was a lot, but he wouldn’t have changed a thing about her.

“Five minutes only, Daddy,” you teased, turning over to face him. He playfully rolled his eyes before leaning to press a soft kiss to your lips. You were just waking up, bleary eyed and soft-smiled with wild hair. You were the most gorgeous being he had ever seen, “hi.”

“Hi,” he grinned back, brushing a few stray hairs out of your face before settling his hand on the slight swell of your belly. It turned out that you had gotten him an early Christmas present that year, “do you think I can get away with making fifteen?”

“Not a chance.”

“Ten?”

“If it’s even a moment over five, she’ll be right back in here to drag you out,” you laughed softly as he leaned back against the pillow, letting out a heavy sigh, “you should know that by now. It’s your kid after all.”

“She’s half yours,” he snorted as you shook your head, “oh? Are you telling me you swapped babies at the hospital and traded our baby for a different one?”

“Oh no,” you giggled in amusement, “there’s no denying that’s our kid. But…right now, early on Christmas morning, she’s all yours. You’re basically a single dad until at least ten this morning.”

“I’d argue with you on that,” he rolled over so you were under him, caged between his arms as he dipped his hand down to kiss you. He made sure to keep his weight off you so he wouldn’t hurt the baby…yeah, he was that kind of father - overprotective and always worried, but you loved it, “but I think you deserve some more rest. You’re doing all the hard work right now, growing our son.”

“Bold of you to assume it’ll be a boy!”

“I just have a feeling,” he smirked, “you’ll realize I was right in about five months.”

“I-”

“Daddy!” you couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled up as he hung his head and sighed softly.

“Better go,” you whispered, reaching up and putting your hand on his face, brushing your thumb over the apple of his cheek, “I’ll be there soon, I promise. I just want to close my eyes for a few more minutes. Your son is really taking it out of me right now.”

“I’ll allow it,” he turned his face and pressed a kiss to your palm, “just rest. We’ll see you soon.”

“I love you.”

“I love you more.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Alright, Ollie Pop,” Eddie rubbed the rest of the sleep from his eyes as he walked down the hall and into the living room. But his daughter was nowhere in sight, which immediately caused his anxiety to spike, “kiddo?”

“In the kitchen,” she called back and he relaxed before wondering what she was up to. He padded into the kitchen and froze at the sight in front of him. Ollie was standing on a chair, chocolate powder all over her and the kitchen counter. As soon as she noticed his expression, she turned oh so innocent and sheepish, “sorry Daddy. I was gonna make chocolate milk for us.”

Part of him wanted to be mad and blame her for the mess, but he knew there was no point. She was just a kid, and she was trying her best; the most important thing was that she was okay. Messes were annoying but they could always be cleaned up, “that’s very sweet of you, little miss. Maybe next time wait for me or Mommy, okay?”

“Okay,” she held her arms to him, silently asking for him to pick her up, “I wanted to surprise you!”

“Consider me surprised,” he picked her up and perched her on his hip as he grabbed a rag to start cleaning, “you’re something else, kid.”

“Is that good or bad?’ she looked at him curiously and he couldn’t help but press a kiss to her cheek.

“Very good,” he promised, “the absolutely best. Now - let’s get this cleaned up and then I’ll help you make some chocolate milk and maybe we can open a few presents. Sound like a plan?”

“Yes!”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

After Eddie cleaned up the kitchen and the kid, he let her drag him into the living room. He started a fire as she excitedly sat down in front of the tree, but her attention was quickly pulled to the window.

“Wow,” she jumped and ran over to the sliding glass patio door, putting her little hands on it as she looked into the backyard. It was snowing softly outside, everything outside was already covered in a soft layer of the glittering white flakes, “Daddy, its snowing! Can we go play outside later?”

“Sure thing, Ollie Pop,” he cast her a fond little look; he’d never had moments like this as a child and he was happy (and proud) to be able to give this to her. He’d vowed to capture every special moment with her, “but we gotta open presents and eat breakfast first, okay?”

“Okay,” she turned back to him with a serious look on her little face, “can we build a snowman and an igloo? Like the ones in my cartoon!”

“I mean, we can try,” he promised, “but we’re not penguins like the ones in the Pingu, so I don’t know how good ours will be. But we can definitely try.”

“We’ll do great,” she promised, padding back over to the tree and sitting down cross legged, “penguins don’t have hands or fingers so it must be harder for them. It’ll be easy for us ‘cause we have both!”

“You’re so smart,” he beamed at her before grabbing a blanket off the couch, and putting it over the two of them as he sat down next to her, “you definitely take after your mom.”

“Nuh uh,” she shook her head and waved her hand at him. Where did she get all this sass? You, he could practically hear you saying, “Mommy says I’m just like you.”

“Yeah? Not surprising at all,” he crooked his finger at her, and she leaned in close to him as he bent to reach her ear, “Mommy’s sometimes really sassy too. She’s just as goofy and silly as you are. But you didn’t hear that from me.”

“Hear what?” she feigned and shrugged her little shoulder as he just nodded. He’d taught his little mini-me so well. Ollie fell silent for a moment before looking at him seriously, “can I ask you a question?”

“Anything kiddo.”

“Do you and Mommy know Santa Clause?” she whispered causing Eddie to almost choke on his chocolate milk. He started coughing to clear his throat and she was closely scrutinizing.

“Whaddaya mean?”

“Last year Santa got me exactly what I wanted,” she mused, casting a suspicious look at all the presents under the tree, “how would he know that?”

“That’s because you left him a letter along with the milk and cookies, remember?” he was internally panicking, wondering what the heck he was supposed to tell her. The two of you hadn’t discussed what you’d say if she asked about Santa. He couldn’t do this alone, he needed you for back up. He cast a forlorn glance down the hall and the bedroom.

“Yeah, but it still doesn’t make sense,” she huffed, “how can he know exactly what I want and all the other kids in the world? How could he get me presents and everyone else? It makes no sense!”

“Sure it does,” he lied. Damn. This kid really was way too smart, “he’s got all his elves to help and then his reindeer to help. They all work really hard and fast.”

“Hmm,” she pondered over his words and he hoped that she would just accept his word for it. He didn’t want the full magic of Christmas to disappear for her just yet…and he definitely didn’t want to have to tell her that Santa wasn’t real without you, “I guess. Next year I wanna stay up all night so we can catch him! Can we, Daddy?”

“Totally,” he agreed, a wave of relief washing over him, “we’ll catch him.”

Crisis averted for now.

“Can I open a present?’ she asked sweetly and he nodded, reaching under the tree and grabbing a box for her. She took it gently, but eagerly and went to shake it but Eddie shook his head and stopped her.

“You have to be gentle with it.”

“Okay,” she slowly started to rip off the wrapping paper as you made your way into the living room, all wrapped up in your fluffy robe and looking cozy, “Mommy!”

“Good morning, my little love,” you crouched down and pressed a big kiss to her cheek, “merry Christmas.”

She wrapped her little arms around your neck as she gave you a tight hug, “merry Christmas!”

“Go on,” you nudged her back towards her present and turned your attention to your husband, “and good morning to you, my love.”

“Hi baby,” he pulled you towards him, settling you on his lap as he wrapped his arms around your middle and rested his chin on your shoulder. He ran a hand over your belly, causing you to sigh softly, “and hello baby.”

“Dork,” you turned your head and pressed a kiss to his cheek before the two of you watched Ollie finish ripping off the wrapping. You watched in eager anticipation as she studied what she had just unwrapped. It took her a few moments, but when she realized what it was, she squealed in delight, jumping up and down with a burst of energy, “well? What do you think, Ollie?”

“It’s a guitar!” she exclaimed as if the two of you didn’t know exactly what it was, “now I can be just like Daddy!”

“You’re going to be even cooler than me,” he insisted as she ran over and hugged him, almost knocking him over in the process, “do you like it?”

“It’s what I asked Santa for!” she was almost yelling with all the excitement in her little body, “will you teach me how to play?”

“Absolutely,” he promised; she’d been fascinated with him playing the guitar since she was a baby. Once she’d gotten older and really understood what it was, she’d begged for own little guitar. You’d both agreed that now was as good a time as any to get her started, “you’re going to be a natural. I can’t wait to teach you.”

“Me too,” she started to open the box, being as careful as she could. If Eddie had passed on his love of music to her, he also passed on the knowledge of care and respect for the instruments.

You shifted slightly so you could turn to Eddie and leaned in towards him, lowering your voice, “do you think we should tell her? That way she’ll have plenty of time to process beforehand…”

“I think now is an excellent time to tell her,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your cheek before looking back at Ollie, “hey kiddo, your mother and I have something to tell you.”

“What is it?” she plopped onto the floor and looked at the two of you with curious eyes. She tapped her chin thoughtfully for a moment, surprisingly introspective for such a small thing. Before either of you could say anything she made a small sound, “oh. Is it about the new baby?”

Your mouth dropped open as you and Eddie exchanged surprised looks. Both of you pointed at each other in surprise, trying to figure out if either of you had spilled the beans. You shook your head and Eddie did the same. He looked at daughter in amusement as she continued to try and unwrap the box, “Olivia May Munson, how did you know that?”

She shrugged, playing it off for a moment as the two of you waited for her to go on, “Mommy’s been sick in the mornings, and I heard her tell you about going to the doctor. Lilly said that her mom was sick a lot in the mornings and they told her she was getting a sister.”

You leaned into Eddie and whispered in his ear, “she’s way too smart and perceptive for her own good.”

“She’s your daughter after all,” he beamed, “guess the cat’s out of the bag.”

“Is it true?” she paused and looked at both of you, her brows knitting together, “is there a new baby?”

“It’s true,” you promised, reaching out for her to come over. She clambered over and sat down in your lap, “you’re going to be a big sister soon. You’re going to have a brother or a sister!”

“Wow,” her eyes lit up and you could tell that she was genuinely excited, “that’s cool! I hope it’s a brother…wait no - a sister! Well, either one really.”

“You’re such a good girl,” Eddie stroked her chubby little cheek, nothing but fondness coloring his voice, “we love you so much, Ollie. And that is never going to change. You’re always going to be our baby girl. We’ll always love you.”

“I know,” she put a chubby little hand on both of your cheeks, “I love you too.”

“Good,” you grinned, “glad to know we’re all on the same page.”

“Yes,” she promised, nodding and causing her unruly curls to bounce wildly, “now can we finish opening presents?”

“Never change, kid,” Eddie laughed as he wrapped an arm around you, “I love you both so much, my girls - my boy!”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson imagine #dad!eddie x mom!reader #joseph quinn #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn x you #st

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joellkeeny · 1 year

Text

✧*:･ﾟlast resort [s.h.]

— warnings: smut (fingering. public sex. steve being a horny fuck). cursing.

— masterlist

He's huffing yet again. You didn't expect anything less from him as you pick up another book from the shelf, returning to your seat. You know he's never cared much about his studies or high shool, but you did and ever since he became your boyfriend you were attached to the hip. He would always escort you through the school, share his lunch with you and always give you your favorites from his tray, he drove you to school and sometimes even helped you study. He is the perfect boyfriend, though he has one major flaw.

Impatience.

It's not like you've been ignoring him for the past two hours. You would ask him questions, flash him a smile or even play with his hand absentmindedly while you took notes with the other. But for him if feels like you're purposefully punishing him by giving him the silent treatment. You're in a library, the school's library nonetheless, so part of the excessive silence between you is because of that.

“Come on, take a break...ten minutes, not a second more,” He shuffles closer, making the chair screech against the floor, recieving more dirty glances from the other people trying to study. Textbooks scattered around the table and a few pages abandoned to the side momentarily, he fiddles with a pencil he stole from you while scrambling his brain for another excuse to pull your attention away from the papers. “Steve, you know I can't.” You shut down his attempt at convincing you, frowning as you sigh. “Look, babe. Twenty more minutes and I'm done.” You try to reason with him, though it's hard when he's hellbent on getting your affection, so he hooks his foot around one of the chair's legs, pulling you to him until his knee bumps into your chair, his arm laying over the back of it while leaning forward.

You try to hold your ground, knowing it's a poorly made attempt at distracting you, and with his body so close to yours, his nose dragging over your cheek and breath fanning over your jaw, he'd like to think that it's working. “Five minutes...” He says again, pressing his lips to your cheek sweetly, his other hand taking your hand in his, playing with your fingers. “What's so important about math anyway? Just some useless numbers.” The more he speaks in that sweet, warm tone, the closer you are to just giving up for the time being and letting him distract you and as if as knowing your train of thought, his lips curl up, knowing he has you by the way your body slumps slightly, your head resting back on his arm, nosing at the Steve–scented material of his sweater, woody and rich cologne lingering there.

“Then you'll let me go back to studying?” It's baffling how easily you follow the voice at the back of your head that is Steve Harrington, because you know he means well, you know how he always tells you when to take a break, when to study, when to let him take the reins and guide you through the stressing days, he does it so well, you're surprised by how much care he has for your well being, though at this point it comes almost naturally for him.

“If you'll still want to then sure.” Your mind is too tired to process the somehow deeper meaning of his words, sighing contentedly as you feel his fingertips over your thigh, just soothing over the denim while you shuffle closer, resting your head on his shoulder while he rubs his palm over your leg. Closing your eyes momentarily you sag against him, finally feeling the exhaustion taking a toll on your body. He's right, you do need a break and maybe that's what you needed all along instead of trying to will yourself to focus.

“Steve?” You question, eyes peeling open and flickering between his hand, now crawling up your thigh until he reaches the button of your jeans, and his face. His pretty face, already looking at you with a faint curl in his lips, just letting out a hum as you call his name. “Steve what are you doing?” You ask again, more like scold him, though still keeping your voice down while his fingers fiddle with the button of your jeans, popping it open.

“Shh, honey.” He presses his lips to yours which is meant to distract you from the fact that the slow ripple of a zipper echoes through the room. “You're stressed. Need me to help you with it.” It's less of a question and more of a statement, and against your better judgement you part your thighs a little almost subconsciously, shifting on your chair to be more comfortable. “Steve, people. There's other people here.” He could see some in the far distance, some turned around with their backs to the two of you as they're quietly chatting.

“Huh, that's wierd. I don't see them.” He grins, his fingers now slipping under the waistband of your panties which catches you off guard, letting a hitched gasp out. Your hand darts out to grip the edge of your seat, thighs clamping down on his wrist when his fingers breach your slit. “Open up, baby. Let me help you.” He coos, pretty, puffy lips pressing to your temple as your body drifts towards his, as if you were two magnets attracted to each other. Grabbing his wrist as you part your thighs per his request, you turn your head to the side, facing his neck and shoulder where you hide as his fingers find your clit, slowly building you up before dipping back down to collect some slick, smearing it over your clit before starting up his gentle abuse on your cunt.

“Attagirl, feels good doesn't it? I know it does, so much better than studying.” You don't even get to respond before you bite down on your lip when his fingers move down, teasing your entrance before pushing in. Your whine is muffled into his neck, nose poking at the soft, Steve–scented skin while your nails dig into his wrist, making him chuckle slightly. Thick, long digits brushing over your sweet spot effortlessly, making your thighs tense, body trembling slightly as you try to keep yourself locked in place instead of letting yourself trash around and moan for him like you always do in the confines of his bedroom or his house.

He's pushing your buttons just right for you to crumble under his skilled fingers and sultry voice immediately as he ducks his head lower to yours to whisper in your ear whatever filth comes to mind that he knows will get you light-headed. “Gotta keep quiet, honey. As much as I would love to hear you scream my name that'll have to wait until we get back home.” Your other hand clutching at the front of his polo, you tug him closer to muffle your whine, hips canting down on his fingers as they push up into you to the knuckle, letting you feel the girth of them deep inside of you.

“P-please, oh fuck Steve, m'close...” The chuckle he let's out in your hair is almost taunting, mocking you for chasing your release so desperately on his digits after denying him your attention for so long. But you can't help but do so when he's playing you like an instrument he's been mastering for years and years. His other arm wraps around your shoulder, keeping you pressed to him and gently stroking your hair while his fingers pound you exactly how he wishes his cock would. He knows he can't do that yet, he's risky but not dumb. “Quiet, baby. Go ahead and make a mess.” His chest rumbles as he lowers his voice for just the two of you to hear, you can feel the vibrations under your fingertips as they press and dig into his chest, tugging on his polo as you gasp, body shaking as your thighs close around his wrist, keeping him there while you squeeze around his fingers, making him let out a shaky breath.

Pulling his hand out once you relax against the chair, trying to catch your breath, he buttons up your jeans again, patting your thigh once you're dressed up again. You close your eyes, gulping down some air, but you're quickly snapped out of your post-orgasm haze when you hear Steve calling your name. “You didn't think I forgot about math, did you?” Placing your textbooks in front of you from where they've been shoved away minutes earlier in a weak attempt at redirecting your attention from them. “Chop chop, I don't want you getting a bad grade because of me.” Pressing a kiss to your forehead, he moves your hair out of your face before grabbing his pencil again, toying with it as he waits for the time to pass until he can have you all to himself again without any texbooks interruping you.

taglist: @steveharringtonscarkeys : @livingintheupsidedown : @dahliamae :

#steve harrington is pretty #stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve the hair harrington #stranger things 4 #stranger things fanfiction #fanfic #steve stranger things #stranger things blurb #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem

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vodika-vibes · 4 months

Note

Hello my dear Vod’ika! Tis I, 💋 anon! First, congratulations on your first follower event!

Maybe I please have jonquil (please return my affection) and dark pink rose (gratitude) with Echo and F!Reader? Some fluffy, soft cuteness with Echo being in love with her and he finally tells her when they have a quiet moment together?

Love your writing 🩵🩵

Pen and Sword, my dear!

Love,

-💋 anon

@kiss-anon

So This Is Love

Summary: You invited Echo to go stargazing, and hidden feelings come to light.

Pairing: ARC Trooper Echo x F!Reader

Word Count: 975

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @kiss-anon

A/N: The words didn't wanna word this morning, so I'm very sorry if this isn't the quality that you prefer from me. Still, I hope you like it!

“You’re staring, Echo.” You say with a warm grin as you turn to look at the man sitting next to you. The man who’s supposed to be watching the stars with you, but instead has been watching you for the last ten minutes.

“Well, how could I not?” Echo asks, amusement crossing his handsome face, “I see the stars all of the time, but I only get to see you every now and then.”

You shake your head and laugh quietly, “You’re being silly. I’m not anywhere as pretty as the stars.”

“Hm. Agree to disagree,” Echo counters.

This time you laugh louder, “Alright, alright.” You grin at him, “Thank you for coming with me.” You pause, “Actually, thank you for always humoring my weird requests.”

“None of your requests have been overly weird, I don’t think.” Echo replies.

You squint at him suspiciously, “What about the time I asked you to help me look for Moon Flowers at midnight.”

He pauses, “I…got to spend time with you, and we had fun.”

You laugh and lean against his shoulder, “You’re something of a soft touch, Echo.”

“I am not!” He sputters as he bumps you with his shoulder, “I’m considerate.” He adds primly.

“Uh-huh, that too.” You say with a grin, as you settle your weight against his shoulder, “Still, I appreciate it.”

“Well, you don’t have to. I like spending time with you. You’re so much more interesting than my brothers.”

“That’s mean.”

“You haven’t met my brothers,” Echo says dryly.

“I’ve met…Fives and Jesse! I think.”

“That is true. I’m sorry about that.”

You laugh, “They’re not that bad. A little…intense, I suppose, but not hard to get along with.”

He smiles at you, “I’m glad you like them, honestly.”

“Oh? Why’s that?”

Echo flushes and averts his gaze, “Ah…not reason. I just like that my friend doesn’t hate my twin.”

“Echo?” You lean over slightly to look him in the face, “Are you lying to me?” You ask, startled.

“...maybe, just a little.”

“Oh, come on, Echo! It’s me! I’m not going to judge you for what you say.” You pause, “Oh! Is it Fives? Does he have a crush on me?”

“Fives has a girlfriend who he’s completely obsessed with.” Echo says quickly.

“Then why does it matter if I like them or not?” You prod as you lean across him so you’re able to look him in the eye.

Echo stares at you, long and hard, for a lot longer than he normally would, and then he laughs softly.

“Echo?”

He lifts his hands and presses them against your cheeks, gently squishing them. “You’re so pretty, you know that?”

“Oh. Thank you.” You reply with a bright smile. “You’re not too bad looking either.”

“I have good genes,” Echo jokes, as he loosens his grip slightly.

“You definitely have those,” You say with a laugh.

Echo stares at you for a moment, and then a quiet curse falls from his lips, before he leans in and presses his lips, feather light, against yours.

You’re so surprised that you topple across his lap and have to roll so that you’re looking up at him, your eyes wide in surprise, “Echo?”

“I suppose I should have given you some warning,” He jokes softly, as he looks down at you, his thumbs rubbing soft circles on your cheeks, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” You smile up at him, your face heated with flustered embarrassment, “You just surprised me. But, why did you-?”

“I love you.”

Your words die in your throat and you blink at Echo, startled, “I…oh….thank you?”

Echo shoots you an odd look, “You’re welcome?”

“I, wait. No. That’s not-” You pause and squeeze your eyes shut, “I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant to say. Give me a second to-” You take a deep breath, to settle your nerves, “Okay. You can tell me what you need to tell me.”

He watches you evenly, a small smile on his lips, “I love you.” Echo repeats, “I love how excited you get about little things, like that purple frog you got a picture of the other day. I love how you have no qualms about dragging me to help you find things that don’t exist. I love how you’re able to find beauty in everything, even things that aren’t beautiful.”

Your face heats even more, and you roll to press your face against his stomach, “Echo! You’re embarrassing me!”

“Deal with it.” He says with a grin, which softens as he brushes his hand through your hair, “I love how you’re always so happy to see me. And nothing would make me happier than you returning my affection.”

You sling your arms around his waist, “You’re asking for such a small thing Echo!”

“It doesn’t feel small.” He replies quietly, “It feels like everything.”

You don’t say anything for a moment as you tighten your arms around him, “I love you too.” You finally admit, “I have for a while.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Was…embarrassed.” You mumble, “Didn’t think you felt the same. Didn’t think you would feel the same.”

“Will you look at me? Please, cyare?”

You loosen your grip and roll so your head is resting on his lap again, he has a wide smile on his face, and you’re helpless but to smile back, “I’m glad I was wrong,” You whisper.

Echo laughs softly, “I am too.” He brushes some hair out of your eyes, “So, what do you think? Want to be my girlfriend?”

“Yes, please.” You whisper. And then you squeak as Echo effortlessly moves you so that you’re sitting on his lap.

“Good, that means I can kiss you again, right?”

And your face burns as you press it against his shoulder, but you have a grin on your lips and you nod eagerly.

#star wars #tcw #vodika-vibes follower celebration #arc trooper echo x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic #answered asks

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eufezco · 1 year

Text

;Y/N'S CAMERA ROLL☁️🧘🏻‍♀️🌻 DATING TYLER VERSION

📸 — It was the first time that Jericho put up Christmas lights and Mr. Galpin wanted to invite you and Tyler to dinner to celebrate it. Tyler's relationship with his dad got better since you started dating him. When Tyler told you that his relationship with his dad was shitty you decided not to intervene but it was really affecting Tyler and from what you saw, it was just pure a lack of communication between the two men.

You talked to Mr. Galpin without Tyler knowing and you explained how was Tyler and why it was so important for him to have his dad go with him to at least one session with Kinbott. Apparently, Mr. Galpin was quick to understand and empathize with Tyler, and that's how he ended up hugging his son with a smile on his face in a photo for you. Tyler was the happiest.

📸 — ¨Oh no, don't hide. You are so cute."

You woke up before Tyler did. You covered him with the blankets, making sure that he was warm enough to continue sleeping while you went to the kitchen to make breakfast. Then you lay in bed again with him and peppered his face with kisses, mumbling to him that breakfast was ready but he hummed in response and trapped you between his arms. "Just five more minutes." Tyler whined while you fought against his hold laughing and you managed to escape him. Defeated, he tried to hide using the blanket and the pillow.

📸 — "Okay, everyone look here!"

Tyler was the best boyfriend ever. Not only he prepared you a surprise birthday party but he also managed to get his father out of his house in enough time for him to bring ten outcasts into his place. He also made dinner for all of you.

All of your friends were there; Xavier was sitting next to your boyfriend. You didn't know how that happened but your heart jumped every time they shared words during the dinner. Next to Xavier was Enid who made sure that everyone attended to the party, and next to her was Yoko who sadly didn't make it in the photo.

Kent and Divina were at both sides of the table. Next to him was Ajax who didn't stop sharing glances with Enid during the whole dinner. Then there were Bianca and Wednesday who helped Tyler to lie to you about the party so it was a real surprise, and who surprisingly have become very good friends lately. Next to Wednesday was your childhood friend, Rowan.

Last but not least, you had Tyler by your side who made everything much better.

📸 — "Come on, pose for me. A photo won't hurt you."

Xavier huffed while you dragged him by his arm next to Tyler but your best friend did not put up much resistance. It was your birthday and Xavier knew that he had to do this for you. Tyler apologized a long ago to him, but still, the sheriff's son didn't give him much confidence. You knew that they'd be great friends, they just needed time.

Tyler threw his arm over Xavier's shoulder and Xavier tilted his head to one side, meaning that maybe it was too much. Tyler pressed his lips together and pointed at you with his head. Xavier rolled his eyes and also threw his arm over Tyler's shoulder.

Oh, the things Xavier did for you.

#wednesday #wednesday fluff #wednesday angst #wednesday imagine #tyler galpin #tyler galpin fluff #tyler glapin smut #tyler galpin angst #tyler galpin x you #tyler galpin x y/n #tyler galpin imagine #tyler galpin x fem!reader #tyler galpin x reader #nevermore #xavier thorpe #enid sinclair #bianca barclay #ajax petropolus

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floydsmuse · 6 months

Text

keep me warm

warnings: 18+, mdni, fingering, p in v, cock warming, little fluff too <3

pairing: Rhett Abbott x f! reader (no y/n)

description: after working out at the ranch on a particularly freezing day, Rhett returns home to you & is in need of some warming up…(wc 2k+)

a/n: happy thanksgiving to those who celebrate lovelies! i haven’t written for Rhett in a minute, so i just knew i needed to :)) i really hope you enjoy this! as always, likes & comments are great! reblogs are appreciated too🥰💕 tysm!

————————————————————————

Rhett had been working around the ranch on a particularly frigid day. it was that weird transitional period between fall & winter. it hadn’t snowed yet, but the weather was destined to leave one frostbitten if they didn’t take the proper precautions & bundle up. you knew Rhett was a grown man & was fully capable of taking care of himself, but you couldn’t help but gently remind him to put on a winter coat & some additional layers for extra warmth. it’s not that you tried to be bossy, but you cared deeply about his well-being & didn’t want to see him get sick.

Rhett really appreciated your concern & certainly thanked his lucky stars that he had you in his life, to keep him in line & be his life support during tough times. but for whatever reason, this time he chose not to listen to your requests. instead his stubborn side coming out, with him completely neglecting to take his coat & opting to just wear one of his infamous flannels before heading out to the ranch.

you were too caught up at your own job to be aware that Rhett was putting himself through a form of self sabotage. you yourself were feeling the cold, just eager to be off the clock & head on home to your bf. you pictured the both of you cuddled up under some wool blankets, in front of the fireplace, in the comforts of your cozy little house. you knew Rhett would be needing all the warmth he could get, having been working out in the freezing cold all day long.

the time had finally reached five & you were on your way out. the cold air immediately struck your body as soon as you stepped outside, making you shiver involuntarily & goosebumps were forming on your skin. even with all of the layers you had on, it still had a great effect on you. you had hoped that Rhett would be back at the house by the time you’d arrive, but you knew he’d sometimes get caught up & wouldn’t always be back at a consistent time or hour.

about a ten minute drive or so goes by & you arrive back. you don’t see Rhett’s car in the driveway & your heart sinks to your stomach. he was still out & it was pitch black now. you considered calling him, to see when he’d be back. you reach for your phone in your bag, pull up Rhett’s contact & call him. only a few rings are heard on your end & it goes straight to voicemail. you let out a sigh, but figured that he was either too busy finishing up something or maybe he was heading back now, too focused on his driving to pick up. you had hoped it was the latter. shaking your head, you turn off the car, grab your bag & quickly head inside.

you knew you were going to wait for Rhett to get home to have dinner like you always did, so you decided in the meantime to set out some blankets & pillows in the den. you made yourself a cup of tea & waited for him to get back.

some time had passed & you found yourself drifting off into a light slumber. before sleep could fully take over your body though, the sound of the front door opening & closing shut is what made you regain complete consciousness. you hear the familiar sound of heavy footsteps coming in your general direction. but before they fully reach you, you hear Rhett head into the kitchen & presumably grab a drink from the fridge. you’re still half asleep & once you up look at the clock with heavy eyes, you notice that it’s almost 9:30 pm. you mentally smack Rhett across the head for coming home so late. damn Royal would push him too hard sometimes, keeping him out too late & making him work through harsh conditions especially on a night like this where the weather had reached below double digits. you were mentally slapping him across the head too. you suddenly perked up at the sound of those heavy footsteps again, approaching you now. you turn your head slightly to see that he’s shivering & his teeth are slightly chattering. his cheeks & nose are a bright red, his eyes watery. he looks like he was on the brink of being frostbitten. you don’t hesitate to get up from your place on the couch, reaching out to gently touch his face,

“ah babe, you’re colder than ice! come sit, sit. get nice & cozy under the blankets. i’ll make you a cup of tea.”

Rhett doesn’t quite say anything, as you practically push him down onto the couch & throw the blankets around his body. you were about to make your way back to the kitchen, but before you could make another move he grabs your arm,

“do-don’t need tea. just need ya right ere’ with me.”

his words come out through click clackity teeth & you don’t even think twice about getting under the blankets with him. you wrap your arms around his frame, the chill emanating off of him, as he clings closer to your body. there’s a comfortable silence between the pair of you, with you trying to warm Rhett back to life & him just allowing it to happen. after only a few moments you break the ever growing silence,

“is there a reason why you didn’t wear your coat or put on some extra layers? you could’ve gotten yourself sick or even worse.”

concern was evidently laced in your voice. you weren’t trying to be raid him or interrogate him, but you wanted to get to the bottom of this. Rhett was still not warming up, even from being under all of the thick blankets. there were times when Rhett simply didn’t use his head & often threw himself into situations without thinking twice about the consequences or results. it was something you knew he was trying to work on, but he still found himself slipping back into his usual ways.

Rhett shifts slightly from his seat on the couch, trying to find his voice in his current predicament. he doesn’t say anything, instead he pulls you directly onto his lap so that you’re straddling him. his hand reaches for yours, placing it down onto his bulge & your breath hitches in your throat,

“i- i need ya to…”

Rhett’s voice comes out strained & he can’t seem to put into words what he’s needing. you reach up with your other hand as it meets the side of his face, rubbing your thumb lightly over his cheek & encouraging him to convey to you what he wants in this moment,

“i’m so cold. i..i need ya to warm me up, please.”

he pleaded, practically begging you for some sort of relief & pulling you closer into him by your hips. you finally understood what he was yearning for & didn’t waste another second. you lean forward, placing a quick peck to his chapped lips. you shift awkwardly. removing your work pants, leaving you in just your panties & sweatshirt. next you go to unzip Rhett’s jeans & pull them down enough to let his cock free from its restraints, fiery red & veiny in all of its glory.

you grab a hold of it & begin to give it some light strokes. it was chilled to the touch & you heard Rhett let out a groan at the sudden action. you knew that it was going to be a stretch due to the very size alone & you weren’t even sure if it would fit due to the lack of lubrication. you make a decision, opting to take a digit & stick it into your weeping hole. your measly finger enters & starts off at rather decent pace. you certainly don’t feel as full or complete, but you figured that it would do for now. Rhett takes notice of you going at it. he grabs your hand & instead replaces your finger with his one of own. he pumps it in & out, making sure to curl it for your upmost pleasure & allowing it to rub against your gummy walls each time. all that was heard were the squelching wet noises coming from your pussy & the sounds of your little whimpers. you couldn’t help but throw your head back at the very sensation & let out an almost pornagraphic moan. Rhett’s fingers always felt so much better than yours. them being bigger & longer, completely capable of hitting that spot inside you just right,

“don’t stop, agh..feels amazing.”

you breathily let out, knowing damn well that Rhett wasn’t going to stop until you reach your breaking point.

you find yourself grinding onto his finger, bouncing up & down onto him as he adds in a second one. you swear his fingers were like magic & always were capable of making you completely crumble from their movements. each pump ignites a fire deep inside of you & makes stars line your vision. you keep up on your rhythm. your eyes roll into the back of your head, as Rhett continues to vigorously finger you like his life depended on it. he lets out light curses at the beautiful sight of you above him, in such a pleasure induced state,

“Rhett, im gonna-“

before you could even finish your sentence, you let go. your orgasm hitting you like a wave in the ocean & all you could do was fall into Rhett’s chest, as he pulls his fingers out of you & lets you take a second to compose yourself. you were a trembling mess above him, panting & trying to steady your breathing. Rhett reaches up to brush your hair out of your face & places a kiss onto your now sweat glistened forehead. you press your foreheads together, to regain some much needed energy & stamina. you knew that you had to return the favor now. you knew what Rhett was so desperately needing.

you lift your head up from his chest & grab hold of his now hardened cock. he lets out a grunt & allows his head to fall back against the edge of the couch. you don’t waste another minute, lining up his plush mushroom tip with your seeping wet entrance. you sink down onto him & you both let out a collective gasp at the intimate connection. you start to pick up on a steady rhythm, but Rhett is quick to stop you. you look down at him through hooded eyes, as he pulls you back into his chest, hugging you to him as if you were a life line. all he wanted was the close contact & the warmth ness of your slick covered walls in this very moment.

you cuddle up further into Rhett, wrapping your arms around him, while his arms wrap securely around your waist. you could hear him letting out little hums & sighs of contentment at the intimate closeness. you were happy to know that you were the only one who had the ability to make him feel like this. to give him the access to just be wrapped up in you & become absolute putty in your grasp. your hand reaches up to rub the hair at his nape, & you find yourself leaving feather light kisses along the side of his neck. it wasn’t meant as a gesture to take things further, it was instead used as a way to ground him & to reassure him that you weren’t going anywhere. you knew how bad Rhett needed this. how bad he was craving it. he had you completely filled up & linked to him. you couldn’t lie, you loved moments like these. you loved that you had a partner like Rhett who doesn’t shy away from what he needs & isn’t afraid to let you take care of him. it wasn’t always this way, but as your relationship progressed & you two grew together, he let this guarded persona subside & invited you in. Rhett trusted you & felt this security, this longing he had been missing since he met you. he was indebted to you & only you.

you knew you were going to have a serious talk with him tomorrow about bundling up when he goes out to work again & insist that you will “fight” him on it next time if he refuses. but for now you two stayed like this, intimately connected & at bliss in your cozy little home.

#rhett abbott #rhett abbott x female reader #rhett abbott x y/n #rhett abbott x reader #rhett x reader #rhett abbott fanfiction #rhett abbott fic #outer range #outer range fanfic #outer range fic #lewis pullman #floydsmuse

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dinaaaaee · 1 year

Note

I don’t know if your doing requests. If you are can you please do reader x lucifer angst with no comfort wanting a break from him because he stood them up again and they are at their limit, with the prompt ‘don’t give me space, thats the last thing i need from you, we can work this out together’ thank youuu 🙏🏾

Space.

★ Heya anon! Yes I am doing requests now, thank you for requesting. ♡ I really enjoyed writing this and hope you enjoy reading aswell!

★ Lucifer x gender neutral MC. Angst with no comfort.

★ Synopsis: Mc gets stood up, not for the first time and decides enough is enough.

★ Warnings: Mention of reader drinking alcohol. Mention of food. Use of petnames.

⊱⋆⊰━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

17:00 pm - Entering the restaurant you could feel the warmth and delectable aromas welcome you, making you feel even more giddy knowing that you'll be spending some well deserved quality time with your busy lover. Grinning stupidly to yourself - You can't wait.

17:30pm - Hm. Waiting, for your lover you took your time to distract your self through skimming the black and gold menu. 'Ooo they have chocolate fondues?'

18:30pm - An hour has already passed and he is still not here. Sighing, taking your phone off the table, that you've been eyeing anxiously, in your hands and shooting a quick message: 'Luci, are you here yet?

Maybe he got caught up? Yeah, that must be it... he is coming now. Probably.

...

Suddenly, It no longer feels warm. He's not coming.

19:00pm - The chimes of the grandfather clock could be heard. The couple next to your table, laughter made you sick. You scoff, downing another glass of red. At least they're having fun. Like you should be.

19:10pm - Yeah, that's it. Stupidly waiting another ten minutes, having faith he would come. He didn't. Five missed calls, ten messages. Nothing. Nada. No reponse.

Couldn't he atleast have decency to message you? or did that affect his pride aswell?

You know he was a busy man, you understood this, even when you first got into a relationship with him. You couldn't help it, it was your third anniversary together. But then again, this is now a common occurrence isn't it? You come back home irritated, heartbroken, he tells you that he can't ignore his work and brushes you off, just like the workaholic he is.

More weary then angry, you step out of the dim lighted restaurant back home. You know what you have to do.

_____

Knock.

"Come in." The robust voice spoke.

Lucifer was sitting in his reddish velvet chair in front of you. In a dark spaced room with only the fireplace for lighting. White papers were crumpled all over the place. The smell of books, his perfume, and smoke were apparent. These smells had always soothed you, but now it was suffocating.

"What is it?" Mistaking you for one of his brothers.

"Lucifer."

Head shooting up quickly, at the lifeless of tone. "Hello, dearest." A fond but concerned smile adoring his handsome features. "You look astonishing, is there a special occasion?"

"Yeah, just our third anniversary dinner, that's all. No big deal." You wave him off, face betraying the causality of your tone.

Eyes widening at the realization. He's been so fixated with his paperwork as of late, everyday being the same: he missed today.

"Love, I-"

"Save it."

Knowing what he'll say. He would never apologize. His pride wouldn't let him.

"Imagine repeatedly getting stood up. Even so, getting stood up for your third year anniversary. I don't know why I've been taking it since you first stood me up..." Trailing off you add "Been so understanding and what have I got in return? You know what? I'm done."

"You don't mean that."

"I do, I really do. Lucifer, tell me honestly, was we real or for show?"

"Mc, now your over reacting." He says sternly. What do you mean for show? Do you really think he would do that to you?

Maybe you were over reacting, but enough is enough.

"Mc, I cannot stop my work, just for a date. My work is quite important, it affects the future of the crown, I am Diavolos right hand man afterall." He gets up from his seat.

"Righttt 'just for a date', because spending time let alone your third anniversary with your lover is just a date. Like you haven't been working under Diavolo for multiple of centuries, but a few hours would affect the crown?" You laugh in disbelief.

Did he really call your third anniversary just a date?

"I think we need a break, we need space." You say in a firm tone.

He goes silent.

A few minutes has passed and you both are just staring at each other. Its clear he wasn't going to say anything, so as just you was about to walk out of his study: "Don't..."

"What?"

"Don’t give me space... that's the last thing I need from you." He pleads. "We can figure this out together; I'll speak with Diavolo, Just-"

"No. You should have thought of speaking with him before I reached my limit, not when I am about to leave."

"Goodbye, Lucifer." Walking out of his study, not sparing a glance.

⊱⋆⊰━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

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musicloverxoxo7 · 8 months

Text

BTS Halloween party – king and queen

Non-idol!Namjoon x fem!reader

Summary: At the party, Namjoon makes you feel hot. He walks you home, thinking you are unwell. Will you take the chance and finally jump him?

Themes/warnings: smut with a bit of plot at the beginning, alcohol, unprotected sex, nipple play, fingering, handjob, friends to lovers

Wordcount: ca. 1.9k

Disclaimer: 18+, DO NOT INTERACT IF YOU ARE UNDER 18

I do not own BTS. They merely inspire me. None of this is related to their persons in real life.

Since you helped put together the party’s snacks, you’ve been there for a while when the first guests start arriving.

Taehyung, tonight’s host, lets in and greets the first few himself. Until he gets so busy hosting and chatting, that someone else has to take over.

You watch, leaning in against the kitchen doorframe. Yoongi mixed you your favorite mocktail earlier already. He’s a good friend.

You’re about to return to the kitchen and rearrange the decorations when you spot Namjoon. He sticks out on a daily basis. But today, with a golden crown atop his dark hair and dressed as a king, your knees feel weak.

Quickly, you walk into the kitchen and sit down on one of the chairs. This should not be happening. You feel a bit too warm and have to brush a bead of sweat away from your chest. You should not be lusting after one of your oldest friends. Except, that it is much more than lust.

You press your forehead against the cool glass of your drink. Thank goodness Yoongi was generous with the ice cubes, as usual.

“Hey, y/n.”

You almost drop your glass.

“Hi, Namjoon.”

You lower the glass and look at him. Instead of hovering over the snacks, which would be the normal things for him to do, he has stopped in front of you.

“Are you okay? You look a bit hot.”

“Oh, it’s just the dress. I’ve been working in the kitchen for a while.”

“You did the snack bar again?” He sounds excited like a kid on Christmas.

“Yes.”

His smile vanishes again as his eyes return to your red cheeks.

“Maybe a multi-layered princess dress was not the best option for a party inside.”

Namjoon looks you up and down. His eyes follow another bead of sweat that runs down your chest and disappears between your boobs. As he swallows, his Adam’s apple bobs.

You can’t meet his eyes. No way. This will end horribly if you do.

You put aside your drink and get up. Except that you have miscalculated how close he is. Your chest touches his. You open your mouth and close it again, feeling stupid.

You have to meet his eyes. His pupils are nearly double their normal size. His lips are slightly parted. Now you feel hot and cold at the same time.

You barely register that his hands have gone to your sides, making sure you stay upright in case you don’t feel well.

“I’m fine. Really.”

“Did you drive or walk here?”

“My sister dropped me off. She has the car tonight.”

“I’ll walk you home. I think you might be coming down with the flu or something.”

The Namjoon flu, if anything. You find yourself nodding, even though you shouldn’t. You’re perfectly healthy. The reason for your near fever is standing right in front of you.

“Then, let’s go.”

Five minutes later you’re out on the sidewalk, heading towards your apartment complex.

“If you feel dizzy, just hold onto me.”

“Alright.”

Except that now, out in the cool October air, you feel fine. Certain parts of you might still feel a bit warm and tingly when you look at king Namjoon, but your mind is clearer again.

“How is your sister doing?”

“Very well. She got promoted recently and now gets to travel around a lot more. That’s what she’s doing right now. She’s at a conference all weekend.”

“That sounds like fun.”

“For her it is.”

“So you have the apartment to yourself all weekend? How does that feel?”

“Good and bad. I like her presence, mostly. But sometimes, this kind of separation is very, very welcome.”

“I hear you. I have a sister too, after all.”

You casually chat about family for the remaining ten minutes until you reach the apartment building.

Namjoon accompanies you to your apartment, up on the third floor. You unlock and open the door. The smell of the vanilla cookies you baked in the afternoon encases both of you.

“You baked?”

“Yes. I usually do so on the weekend.”

You know that you’re playing with fire, but you proceed anyways. You take Namjoon’s hand and pull him inside the apartment with you.

“Have a cookie. Or two. That’s the least I can do for you walking me back here.”

“You know that was not meant to be transactional.”

“I do. See it as a well-deserved reward, then.”

Namjoon closes the door behind himself.

“Okay. I really, really like your cookies.”

You let go of Namjoon and slide out of your shoes. He does the same, takes off his crown and then follows you into the kitchen. You put the container full of cookies on the kitchen table and gesture him towards it.

Namjoon goes through a cookie before even sitting down.

In the meantime, you take your hair down and undo the complicated braids you’d put into it earlier. Your scalp tingles from how good it feels.

“Could you help me open the dress? I’d like to change.”

“Of course.”

Namjoon jumps up and brushes crumbs off his hands. He’s probably had half a dozen cookies by now and you’re happy he’s enjoying them so much.

Gently, Namjoon brushes aside your hair.

“How do I open this?”

“It’s a lace up corset. Open the little bow and then slowly loosen the corset all the way.”

He does just that, this fingers surprisingly quick and nimble.

“Does it hurt, being in a corset?”

“No. I mean, if one made it too tight, it might. But when it’s done the right way, it’s fine.”

“Your hair smells like vanilla too.”

“That happens when I’m baking.”

Namjoon inhales deeply at your neck. It tickles and you giggle.

“I think I can’t open it further without it sliding off you.”

You turn your head, now serious again. He’s looking at your lips.

“Please open it a little further. I can’t get out completely like this.”

“Y/n…”

“Please?”

Namjoon sighs. You turn back around. His lips land softly on your neck as his fingers keep widening the corset strings.

His lips leave your neck again.

“Please, don’t stop.”

You can feel his hesitation. You catch his hands and guide them to your front, running them up and down your torso and chest. His breathing against your ear is much faster now, a little ragged. Even through the layers of clothing you can feel him react.

The corset is loose enough that Namjoon can slide his hand into it and run his thumb over your nipple. You arch into him. He covers your neck with sloppy kisses.

You shimmy out of the dress and stand there in only your panties.

Namjoon runs one hand down your stomach, exploring your body.

“Your skin feels like peaches. So soft.”

Which reminds you of all the summers you have watched him devour peaches, their juice dripping down his chin.

“More”, you breathe.

His hand disappears into your panties. It only takes him a moment to find your clit. He taps it in a way that makes you legs turn into jelly.

You cling onto his arm for support, gasping as the heat grows in your lower belly.

“If you want anything ever, you tell me.”

“Keep going. Just like that.”

So he does. And keeps on doing so until the release of an orgasm makes you go limp. Namjoon holds you upright.

“Y/n?”

“Mh?”

“I have been in love with you for a long time. Is there a chance you reciprocate these feelings?”

“Same. My sister keeps threatening me that if I don’t tell you, she’ll tell you herself.”

“So, does that mean… We could date?”

“Yeah. I’m free tomorrow night.”

“Tomorrow night it is.”

“But, Namjoon.”

You slowly turn, stepping out of your dress. Now you are face to face with him. Well, almost, since he is taller than you.

“I want you inside of me tonight. I can’t wait until tomorrow.”

To underline your intentions, you reach for the bulge in his slacks. His dick feels huge through the fabric. You know that even in your already relaxed state it will take some adjusting.

Namjoon’s lips part in a sigh as you run your hand up and down his length. He looks beautiful like that. You lean forward and kiss him. He kisses you back gently, but it’s clear that his focus is elsewhere.

You draw back.

“Two options. Either you undress yourself and I keep doing that or I undress you and stop.”

“Number one.”

Namjoon tosses off his coat, unbuttons his shirt and throws it onto the growing heap. You have to stop for a moment so he can open his pants and step out of them, but when he comes back in for a kiss, you dip your hand into his underwear and rub over the smooth skin. He moans into the kiss. The sounds he makes turn you on even more.

You walk him backwards until his ass hits the kitchen table. Namjoon breaks the kiss this time.

“Here?”

“Yes, and right now. We can spend the rest of the night in bed.”

You bend yourself over the kitchen table, glad for once that it is so big and sturdy, and stick your butt up in the air.

“Please, Namjoon. I feel so empty.”

“Anything, honey. Anything for you.”

You feel his girthy head press against your entrance. He can only slide halfway in, because you are a little tight.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes. Just maybe not relaxed enough to take all of you. You’re big.”

“We’ll take our time.”

His hand moves to your clit and he draws tiny circles on it. It takes a bit, but he can finally slide in smoothly as you squirm, on the edge of another orgasm.

“Namjoon. Please.”

You don’t know what exactly you are begging for, but he keeps playing with your clit, pushing in and out slowly until you arch your back, squeezing him so much that he has to stop moving.

Once you come down from your high, you slump onto the table.

“Mh, Namjoon. Please, start moving again. I want to feel you in me without my brain being on standby.”

Namjoon chuckles, resuming the slow, steady thrusts.

You enjoy this position. He hits all the right spots, making your body feel warm and tight with pleasure.

Quite soon, Namjoon’s thrusts become more erratic, sloppier. He folds over you, his chest against your back, mumbling nonsense until his hips still.

After a few shaky breaths, his heartbeat, which you can feel against your back, slowly returns to normal. And so does his brain.

He kisses your cheek before slowly pulling out of you. You can feel his cum trickle down the inside of your thighs. With him gone, your back feels a bit chilly.

“Were you serious when you said all night?”

“Yes.”

“Then I think we should shower next. Or perhaps cuddle, test out your bed and then shower?”

“I like option two.”

You straighten up and turn around to him. His cheeks are flushed, his hair is a mess, and he has never looked more beautiful to you.

You hug him tightly. Namjoon hugs you back without hesitation, his strength and warmth enveloping you.

“I really, really, really like you, Namjoon.”

“I really, really, really like you too, y/n.”

Please do not copy, translate, or repost my work. Doing so will make you legally liable for stealing intellectual property.

#bts x reader #bts smut #bts imagines #bts fanfic #female y/n #namjoon x reader #namjoon x you #namjoon smut #namjoon #friends to lovers #halloween #bts ff

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steddieas-shegoes · 1 year

Note

Hi! I love your writing so much! My request is just more of Eddie's water exposure therapy! I'd love to see Robin and Steve help and see how things play out. If not, that's totally cool too! Thanks for sharing your writing in the first place!

THANK YOU!!! You know what is super funny is I was working on this when you sent the other request yesterday. I loved exploring more of this post, and I think maybe I could keep doing so if I have time someday. I hope you love it! - Mickala ❤️

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

Eddie was committed to getting through this, he was.

It’s just that he hadn’t really thought about how fucking difficult it would be to have to do it with Nancy.

Nancy was strong-willed and badass and if Eddie was ever gonna be interested in women, it would be Nancy fuckin’ Wheeler.

But sometimes, like today, he needed someone soft. Someone who was okay with taking things slow.

She knew something was off the moment she walked in the door, but she didn’t comment on it until he was hovering by the sink in the bathroom.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know if I can do it today.”

“Why not?”

“It’s just not a good day.”

“Sometimes those are the days you need to push yourself most.”

“And sometimes I just need a break! We’ve been doing this for five days. I’m tired.”

He was tired. And he was frustrated. He had a setback one day three that he still hadn’t completely recovered from and he barely slept last night and Wayne forgot to save him the leftovers he wanted so it was just a shit day.

“What if I get Robin?”

“I don’t see how that will help.”

“Sometimes a small change can help. She already said she’d do whatever you need.”

“Does she realize I’m naked? I feel like she must not know I’m naked. I don’t even think she’s seen Steve naked, and they practically live up each others’ assholes.”

“Thanks for that image.” Nancy shook her head as if she could shake the image out and forget it was ever there. “So. Robin or me?”

“Robin.”

And despite Eddie being kind of convinced that Robin wouldn’t actually come, she did. And she brought him gummy bears as a reward.

Nancy didn’t give him rewards.

Maybe Robin should be in charge.

Nancy went over things with Robin again, explained that today was a full minute under the water, that he had to be fully submerged except for his head, and that he did have to be naked.

“Well. If I must see a dude’s junk, I guess I’m glad it’s yours.”

“Gee, thanks, Robin,” he said as he stripped.

If he thought too much about it, he’d lock himself in his room and just never shower again.

But Robin turned away as he stripped to give him some semblance of privacy and he was grateful.

Nancy waited in the hall, said she’d be there if they needed her, but would rather keep it to just one of them in the bathroom with Eddie.

Robin turned the water on.

“You like hot or warm?”

“Hot.”

“Good. Give it a minute.”

The water hitting the shower floor was apparently enough to have him losing his shit today. He tensed up and waited with a towel wrapped around him, watching as Robin kept testing the temperature of the water every ten seconds.

Finally, she smiled at him and nodded.

“Do you want me to talk or just count in my head?”

“Usually Nancy just counts out loud.”

“Does that help?”

“It doesn’t not help.”

“Would something else be better?”

“Uh. I guess try talking?”

“You got it.” Robin opened the bathroom door for a moment, said something, then closed the door again.

“Nancy’s got a kitchen timer ready to start when I knock on the door. You ready?”

“No, but I have to be.”

“I got all day.”

It did help to hear that. He knew, logically, no one would rush him, but sometimes he was worried that they’d give up on him if he took too long.

Like, he knew he was already pushing his luck just having them around for his everyday theatrics, so this was just icing on the cake.

But Robin didn’t make him feel like he had to worry about that and that already helped.

It’s not that Nancy rushed him, it’s just that she was a very straight to the point person. In or out. Shit or get off the pot.

Robin was the opposite in a lot of ways.

More of a, we’ll get there when we get there and we’ll stop to look at flowers on the way, kind of person.

She just watched as he stood by the shower, playing with his hair.

He took a deep breath, dropped the towel, and got in.

“Alright, good! You let me know when you’re in the water and I’ll knock and start chatting.”

Eddie could do this. He could.

So he did.

“In.”

He heard Robin knock as he clenched his teeth together and felt the water run down his shoulders and back.

Robin had picked the perfect temperature, not scalding, but hot enough to leave his skin pink. Just like he liked it.

“That’s how Steve likes his baths, which I tell him all the time is why he gets so lightheaded. You’re cooking yourselves. I’m realizing that I might be the emotional support bathing bestie. I sit with Steve when he has baths and now you with the shower. Is this all I’m good for?”

Eddie let out a strangled laugh.

It was helping, but he was still struggling to focus on anything except how stifling the water felt, how the steam building around him was starting to feel too much like fog and the drops were feeling too much like his own blood spattering on his body.

“Time?” He managed to croak out.

“Nance! Time?”

“20 seconds!”

“That’s not bad! Tell me your favorite Metallica song right now.”

He knew the answer. He opened his mouth to do it, but couldn’t say anything.

“Eddie? You okay?”

He tried to speak again, but it was just a whimper.

The water was too much.

He jumped out of the shower, nearly knocking Robin over in his escape.

He was shivering, though his skin was hot to the touch from the water, and Robin was already recovering and wrapping his towel around him.

Nancy was opening the door, worried eyes peeking around the corner.

“Listen to my voice, Eddie. Take in a deep breath. Slowly.”

It was easy to listen to Robin.

She didn’t hesitate to wrap him up in her arms, rubbing her hands up and down his back as he tried to breathe.

Nancy was standing in the doorway, not saying or doing anything, just a silent presence there to assist if needed.

He could feel Robin’s heart beating hard in her chest, so hard it felt like it was trying to jump into his chest.

But he was calming down now.

He pulled away and sat down on the floor, towel still loosely wrapped around him.

Robin shut off the shower, quickly joining him on the floor and waving Nancy away.

“You’re good at this.”

“Well, somebody has to be there for Steve when he’s having a bad day. I’ve gotten plenty of practice.”

“Is he this bad?”

“Oh, on his real bad days, he’s worse. And yes, you absolutely should hold that over him. Maybe then he’ll accept help from someone other than just me.”

He rested his head on her shoulder, smiling when she rested her head on his.

“You should have him come help.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why? Because you have a big stupid crush on him?”

“Why, yes, Robin. That’s exactly why.”

He knew she was rolling her eyes, but he didn’t care.

“You’re both so stupid, it gives me a stomach ache.”

Eddie didn’t think about what she said, just sat in silence as she started playing with his fingers.

“Want me to come back tomorrow?”

“Yeah, please.”

————

Robin came back for three days in a row, and Eddie managed to stay under the water until the timer went off every time.

He was scared to think about what would happen if he started to fail again.

But with Robin constantly talking his way through it, he couldn’t worry for long.

————

“Eddie.”

Oh no.

Robin’s voice was so scratchy, and dull, and not Robin.

She was sick.

Nancy wasn’t available today or tomorrow.

He couldn’t do this alone.

“It’s okay, Robs. I’ll…call Steve.”

“Good. Sorry again.”

She didn’t sound nearly as sorry as when he first answered the phone, but it wasn’t worth arguing about.

He paced the floor of his room for nearly ten minutes before he gave in and just dialed Steve’s number.

“Harrington residence, Steve speaking.”

“Oh, you have one of those homes. Gross.”

“Eds!”

“Hey, Stevie.”

Eddie knew his face was doing that stupid smile he only did for Steve, a combination of fond and content that he’d never been able to give anyone else.

“Everything good?”

“Well, kinda no?”

“What’s wrong?” Steve asked quickly, his tone changing from casual excitement to concern.

“You remember what Nancy told you about the uh…exposure therapy?”

“Yeah, how’s that going?”

Eddie sighed. Steve was so fucking nice all the time. It wasn’t fair.

“It’s not terrible. Robin’s helped for a few days. But uh.”

“What is it?”

“Robin’s sick and Nancy’s out of town. I can’t skip a day, especially not when I’ve been on a roll, ya know? So I was wondering if maybe, and you can say no I’ll do it alone if I have to, maybe you’d be willing to come play therapist?”

That wasn’t so hard. It was awkward, certainly, but not too bad.

“I’ll be right over,” Steve said quickly and hung up.

Eddie didn’t mean right this second necessarily, Jesus.

But if Steve wanted to help this badly, then who was he to stop him from rushing over?

And rush he did.

It wasn’t 15 minutes later that Steve was at his door.

“Where’s the fire, man?”

“Huh?”

“Never mind,” Eddie smiled at him. “Do you remember what Nancy said about all this?”

“Yeah. How long are you up to?”

“Minute and a half. Or I have to turn the water on and adjust the temperature myself and do a minute. But I don’t wanna try something new today, so minute and a half it is.”

Steve nodded along, but Eddie swore he looked nervous. Like he was hesitant to even be here. He needed to offer him an out.

“Listen, I can just wait. Skipping a day or two isn’t really gonna make a big difference in the long run.”

“No!” Steve suddenly shouted. “No. I want to help. I want to be here for you.”

“Oh,” Eddie looked down at his feet, hoping it would hide the blush on his cheeks. “Okay then.”

So he led Steve to the bathroom. He set the kitchen timer but didn’t start it yet.

Steve was standing by the shower, shifting his weight between his legs anxiously. He looked more nervous than Eddie even felt.

“Nancy and Robin usually turn the water on and make sure it’s hot for me. Robin said it’s like how you like it?”

“Got it.”

He turned to the faucets, adjusting them for a few seconds and then pulling back as he waited for the water to heat up.

“You can strip, I’ll turn around.”

“Oh. Okay. Sure.”

Eddie knew he sounded ridiculous.

You’ve taken showers before, idiot.

But the difference here was that Steve was about to be here to see him at his weakest, at least emotionally. And he’d be naked.

Going off of how much Nancy and Robin had to see of him, Steve would be getting an eyeful too.

“You okay?”

Eddie shook himself out of his thoughts.

“I’m okay. Sorry.”

He threw his shirt off and unbuttoned his pants before he could overthink it.

Steve had seen most of him when he was helping change his bandages after the bats snacked on him. It wasn’t a big deal.

Steve at least pretended to be paying more attention to the water and floor as he pulled his legs from his pants and slid his boxers off.

“Water’s good. You ready?”

Steve looked at his face, clearly avoiding any chance of seeing anything below the waist.

Probably locker room courtesy or something, though if you asked him, making eye contact was way more intimate than accidentally seeing someone else’s dick.

“Ready.”

Steve moved to the sink as he got in, probably grabbing the kitchen timer to start it the second he got under the water.

It took him a minute, the hot water hitting his toes gently.

But he took a deep breath, turned his back to the stream, and backed into the water.

“I’m in.”

The first part was getting easier to do, he’d admit that. It was easier to stay in the moment while the water first started hitting him, easier to speak for the first 15 or so seconds before he was completely soaked.

But then it was quiet. He couldn’t hear anything except the water beating down on him and the shower floor.

Steve wasn’t saying anything and Eddie didn’t know how to ask him to.

He didn’t want to sound needy, Steve was already giving up time out of his day to be here at all.

How long had it been? Probably not that long.

It felt like years.

The water was the perfect temperature, and that kind of helped him remember this was a shower, not the end of the fucking world.

The end of the world doesn’t care about your comfort.

Steve does though.

But after another ten or so seconds, the buzzing in his ears got louder, he could feel his body shaking as if the water had suddenly turned ice cold, and the thoughts rushing through his head were more memories he wished he could forget.

He still felt the water, but it wasn’t water anymore. It was blood and bats and doctor’s hands trying to just stop the bleeding.

And then he felt actual hands on him, a body against him pushing him so the water was barely touching him.

He took a gasping breath and collapsed against them.

Steve.

He was fully clothed, like he’d panicked and jumped in without thinking about it at all. He had his arms wrapped around Eddie tightly, not leaving an inch of space between them. He was muttering something, but Eddie couldn’t quite hear what it was.

He let himself be held, no longer in panic mode with his human shield protecting him from the water.

“How long?”

Steve was rubbing his back, spreading a new warmth against his skin and helping, always helping.

“One minute.”

Eddie sighed. He didn’t wanna tell Nancy that he failed today.

She wouldn’t make him feel bad intentionally, but she got this look on her face when he didn’t make it to the timer going off like she wasn’t sure he could get through it.

“You wanna get out?”

“Please.”

Steve pulled away so he could shut off the water and Eddie got a good look at him.

He was soaked, his clothes sticking to him uncomfortably, his hair matted down against his head.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. I made the choice.”

He did, yeah. But he probably felt obligated to, and that’s not really making a choice, is it?

“Eds, look at me.”

He’d been looking at the floor, kind of hoping it would just swallow him up for good, but managed to pull his head up when Steve asked.

“I’ll always, always, make the choice to help you. Okay?”

Eddie bit back a sob as he nodded, and Steve pulled him against his chest again.

“You have no clue how much I wanna be here for you. When Nancy called, I practically begged to be here, did she tell you that? But she said it wouldn’t be helpful if I jumped in the moment you needed me.”

“Helped now.”

Steve squeezed his arms.

“Yeah. She won’t be happy with me. But you weren’t answering and when I looked in, it’s like you weren’t even here. I didn’t know what else to do.”

Eddie nodded. That lined up with what he’d been feeling, seeing.

“We should get out. You’re shivering.”

Steve guided him out of the shower and wrapped the towel he’d left hanging up around him, rubbing along his arms and back to help get him warmer faster.

Then he was taking off his shirt and removing his belt and Eddie’s brain couldn’t catch up.

“Uh.”

“Sorry, do you have some clothes I can borrow while I put these in the dryer?”

“Uh. Yeah. Sure.”

Steve smiled at him like he didn’t just break his brain in half.

He managed to walk to his bedroom, grab a shirt and sweatpants, and walk back to the bathroom with only a single thought running through his mind: he’s wearing my clothes.

“Thanks,” Steve said as Eddie wordlessly handed them over.

And then he realized he forgot boxers.

Steve would be wearing his sweatpants with nothing under them.

He knew the noise he let out was close to a squeak, like a fucking mouse or something, but he couldn’t hold it in. Steve didn’t acknowledge it, hopefully didn’t hear it at all, as he focused on getting his soaked jeans off his body.

Then his boxers came off.

Eddie really did his best not to look. He did. It would be so rude to stare.

It would be even more rude to say something.

So he did both.

“Jesus Christ, Steve. The girls weren’t kidding were they?”

Steve’s face was bright red, but he didn’t look up until he was pulling the sweatpants up his legs.

“I guess that depends what they were saying.”

Eddie was still standing with his towel wrapped around him, eyes wide at everything that had just happened.

“For one, that you’re pretty well-endowed. I thought they just lacked experience. Maybe I’m the one lacking experience. Maybe you’re just huge.”

Steve was smirking at him, the confidence of the king coming back as he listened to Eddie.

“That so?”

“God, yeah. I’m never gonna be able to be with anyone again after seeing that.”

“Oh? Why’s that?”

Steve was stepping into his space now, still shirtless, still smirking.

“I mean, look at you. How could I ever be satisfied with someone else inside me when I could have that?”

Oh. Wait. No. He wasn’t supposed to be saying this out loud.

Steve’s hands were on his hips, though.

Gripping him tight, like he had no intention of letting him go.

“You want that? With me?”

Well, might as well lay it all out there.

“I want everything with you. Anything you’ll give me.”

“Everything?” Steve was still smirking, that asshole. “So if I wanted to take you out on a date…”

“A date?”

“Yeah. To dinner or something.”

“We can’t go on a date, Steve. We’re two men in bumfuck Indiana. We’d be killed.”

“How about I make you dinner? My place. Tonight?”

“You’re fucking with me.”

“I’m not, but hopefully I will be,” he said with a wink.

“Steve. You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into. I’m like, kind of in love with you, full disclosure, and I’m not sure I can handle one date, a fuck, and then you never wanting to even talk to me again.”

Steve watched as he rambled, running his thumbs along Eddie’s hips like he was trying to keep him calm.

“Full disclosure, I’m kind of in love with you, too. I mean, I did just jump in a shower fully clothed to make sure you weren’t gonna hurt yourself. I’d do it every day if I had to.”

Eddie searched his face for any sign of a lie. Steve was easy to read, or at least he was to Eddie.

But Steve was giving him a fond smile, and moving in closer, and Eddie didn’t see any sign of a lie.

Steve’s hand cupped his jaw. He was looking at him like he was special, and Eddie wasn’t sure what to do with it.

And then Steve was kissing him.

He dropped the towel. It was accidental, but he wasn’t going to interrupt any of this to pull it back up.

Steve was an intense kisser. He should’ve known.

He put everything he had into it. He kissed with his whole body, quite literally putting his back into it as he pushed Eddie against the wall.

But Eddie wasn’t doing this in his bathroom. Despite the fact that he was very obviously willing to, he wanted to have the date first.

He pulled away, but stayed in Steve’s arms. He wasn’t quite ready for complete separation.

“You’re making me dinner tonight?”

“I’m making you dinner tonight.”

“And it’s a date?”

“It’s a date.”

————

Steve came every day after that, even on days when Robin or Nancy were already there.

He sometimes waited in the hall as backup, but usually he stayed in the bathroom and talked to Eddie, who’d managed to get up to three whole minutes in only a few weeks.

When he finally made it to five, Nancy handed it all over to Steve.

He started taking showers with Eddie. Washing his body and hair so he could have more positive thoughts.

By the end of the year, he was taking regular showers.

He still had moments where he panicked, of course. He still sometimes had to cut them short because of a specific memory.

He still sometimes went a few days without because he couldn’t build up the courage to get in.

But Steve was there. They all were.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #exposure therapy #requests #its about the HEALING

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