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zanarkandskylines · 1 month

Note

Hiii omg I love your writings so much!!

May i request texting katsuki while reader is drunk in a bar (maybe bc reader just broke up with her previous boyfriend or sth. It’s up to you but please make it spicy 🔥) (also 18+ please 🥹)

ohhhh the things swirling in my head about this!!! thank you for the request nonnie & hope it delivers! 💜

on the rocks

『 ♡ 』 k.bakugo x fem!reader ꒰ pro-hero au | age 24 | friends to fwb ꒱ ⇢ your week couldn’t get any worse. between a screw up at work and getting dumped out of the blue, you needed to desperately let off some steam. thank goodness the girls were more than happy to take you out for the night in the city and spoil you with a good time. everything’s fine until you receive a text that spirals into an unpredicted hookup.

꒰ tags & warnings ꒱ 18+ MDNI mentions of alcohol, mild/implied smut, suggestive texting, friends to friends with benefits, heavy flirting, sexually comfortable reader, reader went through a break-up, soft bakugo, fluffy ꒰ cross posted to ao3 | wc; ~2.6k ꒱ -`✧ katsuki bakugo masterlist

The bartender hands you the drink you ordered, nodding a thanks when you smile at her. You’re not drunk, per se, but you’re definitely buzzed - that warm and fuzzy feeling dancing through your veins, letting you relax for the first time all week. Tonight's goal was to think about absolutely nothing, to let go of all the shit weighing on your shoulders. Even if it's just for one night, anything to shake away the pain you've been carrying.

But the alcohol seems to be betraying you, forcibly shoving those thoughts to the forefront of your mind instead of burying them.

Memories of your ex begin to haunt you as your mind wanders aimlessly, the dam bursting that was keeping it all at bay. You try and shake your head to rid yourself of the feelings, but they just wouldn’t go away.

God, fuck him and every false promise he made to you.

Some people would consider three months a short amount of time, but to you, it felt like an eternity. He seemed so sweet, caring and kind when you first met, but once he forcibly ripped off your rose-colored glasses? He was nothing but a walking pile of shit.

Suddenly, your phone dings on the bar, lighting up to show a text message notification.

'Who the fuck is texting me so late?'

You blink a few times, re-reading the contact name before it registers: Katsuki Bakugo.

That's rather...odd. He's notorious for going to bed by 9pm - it’s almost midnight. You two were friends, sure, but never the 'text you in the middle of the night' type of friends. Curious to know what he wanted, you open the text to reveal nothing but a picture. When you squint through your hazy vision, you realize just what you're looking at.

It's a picture of Bakugo from the neck down, laying on his bed in nothing but grey sweats that are tugged down and nestled at the bottom of his hip bones. The pose accentuates the delicious deep V below his abs and shows the blonde trail disappearing underneath the hem of his sweatpants. The shadows trace each well-earned muscle, perfectly outlining them in the dim light of his bedroom.

Was this meant for you? Did he send it to you by accident? Your mind goes blank, stopping your previous train of thought about your stupid ex.

…did he send it to you on purpose? Your core pulses at the thought, causing you to cross your legs defensively.

Right on queue, another text pops up, your phone vibrating in your hands.

[katsuki] fuck, sorry. that was an accident

That was a bold face fucking lie, and you knew it. Bakugo's not that stupid to send the wrong text by mistake, especially a selfie. There's no way in hell he would even take a picture like that for someone unless he wanted it to be seen.

Liquid courage does you a favor when you reply, loosely teasing him about it.

[you] damn, katsuki. who's the lucky girl?

You don't notice Mina approaching you with how intently you're staring at your phone screen, startling you when she taps your shoulder.

"What are ya doing over here?! Come dance with us!" she pleads, pulling on your arm. She notices how you're clutching your phone like a lifeline and the coral tint on your cheeks. She quirks an eyebrow at you. "Who are you texting?"

Oh god, find a lie - fast! She'll see right through your facade if you don't.

"No one, just a spam text."

Mina stares at you - shit, she knows you're lying.

"You're a shit liar, babe. Who is it?"

"I got a random text from Katsuki," you admit, the flush in your cheeks deepening at his name. Are you into him, or is it the alcohol in your system? It's no secret that he's attractive, he's always been effortlessly handsome. You'd be lying if you said you hadn't checked him out a few times, but never acted on it. The two of you were friends and you’d assumed he didn't think much else of you.

Mina grabs the phone from your hands, entering in your passcode (how did she know it?!) and reading the texts. Her eyes blow open, pinching the screen to zoom in on the photo. You scramble to grab the phone back to quit her oogling as she's squealing with glee.

"Holy shit!" she yells. "Accident my ass, Blasty. Damn, that's hot."

"Mina! Keep your voice down," you beg, locking the screen to prevent anyone else from seeing.

"No one is listening over this music," she squawks, punching you lightly in the arm. "Come back to us soon you minx!"

And with that, she leaves you at the bar, returning to the dance circle with the rest of your girlfriends. Your phone vibrates a few more times in your hand and recaptures your attention.

[katsuki] thought you'd like a distraction [katsuki] shit, if this is weird, just tell me and i'll fuck off [katsuki] i should've just asked instead

So it was on purpose. You swallow hard as you shakily type out your reply, trying to keep your cool.

[you] it's not weird, what made you think of me? [katsuki] mina wouldn't shut the fuck up about you earlier. sent me pictures of you in the dress you have on, couldn't get it outta my head

When the fuck did Mina do that?! You had thought she was taking pictures of herself earlier at your apartment. That sneaky bitch!

[you] goddammit mina, i'm sorry about her. why would she send them to you?

You see the typing indicator pop up and disappear a few times before his response arrives.

[katsuki] you know how she is, playing matchmaker and shit with everybody [katsuki] honestly? i'm not mad about it [you] oh? [you] so that's why you sent it to me. hell of a pickup line kats [katsuki] fuck off [katsuki] i can't deny that you're gorgeous [you] yeah? feelings mutual

Your face is burning hot, sitting at the bar in disbelief that Bakugo's flirting with you. And it was all because he was infatuated with what you're wearing? He couldn't get it out of his head?

You're still debating on whether you want to yell at or thank Mina for igniting this fire. [katsuki] where are you right now? [you] sitting at the bar, some club in the city

Another picture is delivered to you on screen and has your jaw dropping to the floor.

The picture is closer to his face this time, cut off at his cheekbones and barely illuminated as Bakugo's fingers are parted over his mouth. His tongue is lazily hanging above his bottom lip with a string of salvia attached to one of his fingers.

Your legs twitch as you bite your lip, imagining his face slotted between your thighs.

[you] holy shit, katsuki...fuck [katsuki] find a bathroom or some dark corner [katsuki] there's more where that came from. just say the word, princess

The pet name is doing things to you that you didn't think was possible. Your overloaded with a sudden rush of arousal, heat twisting in your belly at his promise. Grabbing your bag from the chair, you bolt to the nearest bathroom and lock the door behind you. Luckily, this club's on the nicer side, the bathroom not being as scummy as you thought it would be. You set your things on the counter and grab your phone, turning the camera on and pointing it in the mirror.

If that's how he wanted to play? You could play right back.

[you] that deserves a reward

The photo attached shows your breast pushed closed together, daring to spill out of the top of your dress and wearing the poutiest lip you could muster.

Bakugo’s response is immediate.

[katsuki] goddamn, your tits look amazing in that dress [you] would you believe me if i said they look better out of it?

You turn the camera back on and click the record button, sensually slipping the top of your dress down and letting your breasts loosely lay over the bust. Your nipples are pebbled from the rousing desire flowing through you, making them standing perfectly at attention. You give the camera a wink and squeeze one of your breasts playfully. Once you're happy with the video, you send it with no hesitation and readjust your dress. [katsuki] holy fuck [katsuki] you alone? That's not the response you expected, but you roll with it. [you] yeah, one person bathroom

- Incoming Call: Katsuki Bakugo -

You stare at the contact screen for a few seconds before picking up.

"Hey Kat," you greet, nervousness wracking your body, the thrill of the situation making your heart flutter.

"I wanted 'ta hear your voice instead," Bakugo groans, heavy breaths following his words. "I never thought you'd...want to do this with me."

You can't help but laugh under your breath. "Never thought you wanted to, either."

You're thankful that your not drunk off your ass after all - you want to remember this. You're tipsy, but coherent.

And turned on to high heaven.

Bakugo breaks the silence before you cut him off. "I know you're fresh outta-"

"Katsuki, he's not worth mentioning. I'm focused on you right now."

"Yeah? Tell me more."

"I'd love to see what you're hiding under those sweats, Dynamight. I'm practically a puddle just thinking about it. How do you think my lips would look wrapped around you?"

You can hear Bakugo exhale into the phone and groan. He tries to hide it, but fails miserably.

"Cat got your tongue, huh? Too forward?"

"N-no. It's fuckin' hot. Shit," he whispers with baited breath. "God, what club are you at again?"

"The one near Shibuya station. Crystal Crown, I think. Why?"

There's a pause before you hear various clicks and a beep or two from his side before he answers.

"Changed my mind, this ain't happenin' over the phone the first time. You're 15 minutes from my place, I'm comin' to get ya."

You can feel your panties soak from your excitement, clenching at the thought of him just ravaging you in his car and not being able to make it back to his apartment before touching you like a man starved.

"Coming to sweep me off my feet or to fuck my brains out?" The words spill from your lips before you can stop them, but you don’t regret it when you hear Bakugo moan in response - loudly.

"Fuckin’ - have you been stockpilin’ this shit ‘ta say to me?" He laughs. “You’re gonna kill me before I leave the damn apartment.”

“Didn’t think you’d be so easy to play with,” you joke playfully, twirling a piece of your hair in your fingers. “Better get here before I change my mind, find some other rebound in this stupid club.”

“I’ll be your fuckin’ rebound any day of the week, sweetheart. Ain’t no guy in that building better than me.”

His confidence makes it difficult to bite back the moan in your throat.

“Guess you need to prove it. Get your ass over here, I’ll be out front. You better be wearing those sweats.”

You’re about to hang up when you hear Bakugo say something quietly, too muted for you to make out right away.

“Kats?”

He clears his throat before repeating himself, his voice soft and low. “You sure y’want this? I don’t wanna fuck anythin’ up or whatever.”

“You won’t fuck anything up, nothing wrong with friends fucking with no strings attached. I already flashed my tits at you, no turning back now.”

You subtly hear him let go of the breath he was holding and a hollow chuckle, sounding relieved at your answer.

“Good. See ya soon.”

The line ends with a click, leaving you with your thoughts while staring in the bathroom mirror. You didn’t realize how badly you’ve been shaking until you attempt to walk, unexpectedly stumbling like a baby deer on your heels. Once you gather yourself, you exit the bathroom and hurry over to the dance floor. Mina spots you, rolling her eyes and placing her hands on her hips when you approach the group.

“Where the hell have you been?!” She shouts over the music. “I was starting to think you died in there.”

“I’m heading home,” you say while waving your hand, brushing away her worries.

“Oh…oh my god. Is Bakugo coming to get you?!”

“Mina!”

Jiro and Uraraka turn in your direction, yelling in unison. “Bakugo?!?!”

You palm your face, desperately attempting to hide your flared cheeks as the girls squeal and cheer for you.

“Stop it! We’re still just friends!”

Mina clicks her tongue. “Uh-huh. That’s what I said about Kiri a year ago, and now look at us!”

“You gotta let us know how it goes,” Uraraka winks, elbowing you in the rib. "Rumor has it he lives up to his hero name in bed."

Before the interrogation continues, you back away from the group with a smile and turn for the entrance. You slide through the doors and slip out onto the sidewalk and see Bakugo parked out front, smiling as his eyes spot you on the busy street.

Has he ever smiled at you like that before?

He gets out of the car and walks around to greet you.

“Hey Katsu-”

Before you can process what’s happening, Bakugo’s got one hand on your waist and the other on the back of your neck. He gently leans you against the car as he swoops down to place a featherlight kiss to your lips. You squeak before melting into him, wrapping your arms around his neck. Sparks are flying through your whole body - a sensation you haven’t felt for a long time. When the two of you part, his eyes are half-lidded, cheeks flushed and lips parted with shallow breaths.

“Ready to go?” He asks, removing the hand from your neck and stroking your cheek with his thumb. Your heart is in your throat, strangling any words you try to say, so instead, you just nod ‘yes.’ Bakugo walks you to the passenger side and opens the door for you, just like any other time you’ve hung out. When he shuts the door and goes to walk to the drivers side, you finally notice he’s wearing the damn grey sweatpants.

The entire drive back to his place, Bakugo’s hand doesn’t leave your thigh. His fingers danced over your skin, playing with the hem of your dress and gingerly squeezing the plush surface every so often. You return the favor, walking your fingers up the inside of his thigh a few times, stopping short of the growing tent in his sweats. Pulling up to his apartment complex seems to take the breath out of both of you. He turns the car off and you sit idly in silence, it's only a minute or two, but feels like a lifetime.

Bakugo gets out first, jogging over to your side to open your door. He takes your hand as you stand, closing the door behind you and swiftly sweeping you off your feet into his arms, bridal style.

"Wow, do all the girls you bring home get this treatment?" you tease, planting a kiss on his warm cheek.

"Never had the pleasure of bringin' a princess home, so no."

That shuts you up and makes you quiver in his hold.

"I'm honored, sir Dynamight. Take me to your castle!" You swoon, dramatically leaning back with a hand over your head.

Bakugo shakes his head and grins, starting to jog through the parking lot and up the stairs with you. You hold onto his shoulders while giggling uncontrollably, ecstatic to see where the night takes you.

One things for certain - you haven't thought about your ex once. And you look forward to keeping it that way.

tags; @slayfics @maddietries

#bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo x y/n #bakugo smut #bakugo fluff #katsuki bakugo #bakugou x y/n #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou #bnha bakugo #katsuki bakugou x reader #my hero academia smut #☆.rei writes #☆.from the stars

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dollfacefantasy · 1 month

Text

Kiss It Better

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!bunny-hybrid!reader

summary: on a day planned to be just for just you and leon, he gets called into work. it dredges up some old memories, and upon returning home, he wants to make it better by taking extra care of his baby bunny.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, cockwarming, daddy kink, size kink, breeding kink, hurt/comfort, reader copes with her past at the shelter

word count: 6.1k

a/n: yay leon and his baby bunny finally return. i hope this lives up to the first part lol which can be found here. i have another part planned as well if people are interested. as always reblogs and comments mean the world <3

“I could never say no to my sweet baby bunny.”

A statement Leon had said off-hand in the heat of the moment. Something he’d told you as a comfort, a way of warming you up for your first intimate moments together. He hadn’t put much thought into it before it rolled out of his mouth.

But damn, if only he’d known how true it would prove to be.

The words were ringing through his head right now as you dragged him through the mall on another Saturday he dedicated entirely to spending time with you. He’d already bought you a fair amount of stuff from cute frilly socks to pretty pink panties to some tiny t-shirts he knew he’d regret as soon as you used one to get your way. And now you were heading towards a shop tucked away in the farthest corner of the shopping center. His only hope was that the location meant it was the end of the line, the last stop on your trip.

From what he could see, it sold stuffed animals amongst other items that could clutter up his house. Luckily, the small plush toys seemed to be the only things drawing your attention. Your eyes scanned the rows before fixating on a specific one that sat on the bottom shelf. You crouched down to get and pulled it to your chest, standing up again so Leon could see your selection. His eyes soften as he notices your little cottontail twitching with excitement.

He can’t help the smile that spreads on his face at the sight. His sweet girl standing there with a small plush cow in her arms. The tufts of black and white fur jutted out the top of its head near a set of foamy horns. You looked up at him with puppy eyes, which he’d come to view as unfair since he’d chosen a bunny for a reason. But they worked on him all the same.

“Baby-” he starts, but you interject, predicting his argument.

“I don’t have a cow yet,” you plead, “It’s just one more.”

“Yeah, this one is just one more. And so is the next one, and the one after that, and the one after fifty more of these things,” he teases.

“C’mon, please,” you beg, stepping close to him to lean against his chest.

“Is this your way of telling me you want your own bed again? You’re just gonna fill the one we share with more and more of these until there’s no room and I’m pushed to the floor,” he jokes.

“No,” you deny, “Plus I put them away at night anyways.”

“Most of them,” he corrects.

“Cause I need my bear to sleep,” you say with a little pout.

He swears he almost swoons. You’re too fucking cute. He knows he’s spoiled you rotten. You’re treated better than the average hybrid to put it lightly, but he was past the point of paying that any mind. That shelter he’d picked you up from never let you have stuff like this. In his mind, he was righting their wrongs, burying those sad memories with as much cute shit as he could afford. And if other people didn’t approve, if they thought he should keep you silent and on a leash, he couldn’t care less.

Looking down at you now, playfully pleading with him for that stuffed animal, he knew he could never treat you like that. He rolls his eyes and messes with your hair, gently scratching the base of your floppy ears.

“Fine,” he says, “One more.”

You all but cheer with your excitement, bouncing up to give him a fat kiss on the cheek. He takes the stuffie from you and walks to the register to pay for it. You walk, lacing your hand with his and swinging your arms back and forth.

He looks over at you and instantly remembers why he always ends up giving in. Why he can never say no. Now that you had opened up, he couldn’t get enough of you. He’d loved you before that day a few months ago, the day when he’d caught you during your attempt at self-soothing with his pillow between your legs. But since that day, a whole new layer of you had been revealed to him. The sweet and shy bunny he’d met at the shelter touched his heart first, but the affectionate and needy girl you’d allowed him to see owned it now.

He pays for your little cow, adding another bag to the collection hanging from his arm, and leads you out of the store. You tuck yourself under his arm, clinging to his abdomen.

“Thank you, daddy,” you say quietly and press a kiss to his chest.

His heart throbs at the sound of the sweet name you’d attributed to him months ago. He has to remind himself that you’re in public before any other part of his body reacts.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart,” he says and strokes one of your ears with his free hand.

Once the pair of you reach his car, he loads your stuff in before giving you a pat on the ass as you climb in the front seat. You’re all smiles, and he couldn’t feel better. He gets in the driver’s seat and switches the car on. Your hand goes for the controls to the music right away. He always let you pick when you were with him. Each song acted as a little glimpse into you and what you liked.

As you’re selecting one you like, he feels a buzz in his pocket. He fishes his phone out as you share some of the stuff you like about the song you put on. You then start asking him where you’re going next, but the plans slowly begin to unravel as he reads the message displayed over the picture of you he had as his screensaver.

“Shit…” he mutters to himself before looking back up at you. Your ears droop in tandem with his face dropping. “Baby, I gotta drop you back at the house. I gotta take care of some stuff at work for a bit.”

He sees the disappointment in your eyes, and it kills him.

“But… I thought you took the day off,” you say. Your mood rapidly depletes. It wasn’t his fault, but it wasn’t fair. This was supposed to be a day where he was all yours. Twenty four hours where the D.S.O. laid no claim on him.

“I did, but I’ve told you how it is sometimes. I can’t get out of it some days,” he says.

“But you already stayed late all week. What else do they even need you for?” you ask. It may be irrational, but you can’t help how your mind floods with a sense of abandonment in the moment. You knew Leon would never do that, but the years you spent in that shelter had done a good job of convincing you otherwise.

“Just some formality stuff. I’ll be as quick as I can. You know I wouldn’t choose working over being with you,” he says.

Now he’s the one pleading. Your ears are flat on your head, and your eyes are fixed on your seat below you. He knows you feel wounded now even though you’re holding it in.

“If you’re mad it’s ok,” he whispers and reaches out to stroke your jawline, “You can be upset, honey. I won’t get mad at you. I know you were excited about today.”

As much as you had opened up, he could tell you still shied away from showing too much negative emotion. He knew you’d gone through some punishments at the shelter you were still too scared to talk about.

“It’s not your fault,” you say and shrug, dejection all over your features.

He sighs and starts the car, pulling out of the parking space, and heading towards the house. “I know it’s not, but you can still let out some frustration. I wouldn't think you’re ungrateful if that’s what you’re worried about. You wouldn’t get in trouble,” he says, keeping his tone gentle.

You bring your feet up onto the seat and retreat into yourself a bit. With a simple shake of your head, he knows the topic has closed.

He lets out a quiet sigh as he drives down the road. It drips with the frustration that he’s letting you down. He can’t reach inside your head and pull out the negative effects of the shelter. He can’t tell the D.S.O. to fuck off and let him spend as many hours as he wants with his precious girl. All he can do is pull into the driveway and watch you get out of the car, your posture slightly slumped with the encroaching feelings of loneliness. You pull your shopping bags from the car. At least you give him a little parting kiss so he doesn’t feel completely emaciated.

He watches your sad trudge into the house before taking the car back out of the driveway and down the same road in the opposite direction.

Inside the house, the silence dominates you. You pad down the hallway to the bedroom that had once belonged solely to Leon. Dropping the bags of clothes near the door, you then hop on the bed and toss your new little cow up near your other pillows. Your eyes linger on the ceiling. You’d become familiar with the insignificant bumps and ridges above that provided a distraction on sleepless nights. Nights where you just needed to tune everything out and count them to avoid being haunted by the past.

Before Leon had taken you in, you always imagined you’d enjoy the quiet of a real home. The shelter always echoed with loud cries of sorrow, screams of anger, and whimpers of hopelessness. You’d lie on the thin mattress tucked in the corner of your area and try to dream of the days your bed would be lush with pillows and blankets, decorated how you liked and surrounded by the peace of you and whoever had chosen to love you.

And now those days have come. They’re real. You didn’t have to deal with the constant atmosphere of despair or the looming threat of punishment for acting like a human being. So why was it so easy for you to tumble into sadness like this? Why did the quiet no longer mean sanctuary but rather the absence of the person you loved most in this world? You could never work it out. It was too hard. Any time you tried you ended up spiraling into even more self loathing. Because there’s nothing to be sad about anymore. There’s no reason to feel like this. That stuff shouldn’t bother you; it’s nothing more than a collection of ugly memories at this point. Why couldn’t you be grateful for the life Leon had given you? The man gave you just about anything under the sun you could want, so why did one minor inconvenience have to throw you off this badly?

The bags by the door didn’t make you smile anymore. They only brought guilt. You didn’t deserve them. All the gifts and love he lavished upon you would never make you into what you were supposed to be.

Your thoughts consume you for longer than you notice. The sky darkens outside, tinting the room with a violet haze. You lie on the bed under your self-made cloud of gloom for hours, not noticing how much time has passed until you hear the garage door closing and footsteps getting closer. You glance at the bedroom door as it opens silently.

Of course, it’s Leon. His eyes fill with concern at the sight of you. He’d seen you down before but never so deflated. His face now resembles how he looked when he caught you humping his pillow all those months ago, but it’s also distinctly different. He still has curiosity in his gaze, not able to pin down what exactly is the reason for the present circumstances. Though the reaction this time is more worried than surprised. Your present state doesn’t shock him; instead he feels a protective instinct flare within him.

He approaches the bed and sits next to your limp form. His palm rubs up and down your arm slowly. “Hey baby,” he says softly, “You doing ok?”

You look up at him and nod. Sitting up, you scoot to him and align your side with his. Your legs extend out in the opposite direction of him as your head rests on the curve of his shoulder. “I just missed you,” you say softly, your arms encircling the circumference of his bicep.

He presses a kiss to the crown of your head and starts rubbing your back. “You do anything fun while I was gone?” he asks.

“Nothing special,” you respond, “Think shopping made me sleepy.”

You speak with a soft tone of voice, attempting to further the idea that this was merely a bout of tiredness. His eyebrows rise with suspicion. As cute as you look with your cheek squished against his shoulder, he pulls your body around and seats you on his lap. His fingers sweep down your jaw and guide you to look up at him.

“You sure you’re just tired? Nothing else? We weren’t out for that long. I just wanna make sure you’re alright,” he says, trying to show you with how he speaks that it’s not an accusation.

But you remain firm in your convictions and nod. “Mhm, I’m already feeling better. I just needed a little rest,” you assure him and tuck your face against his neck.

It’s not a lie. You were feeling better now that he had returned, each passing moment had little improvement for your mood. But he knew something still wasn’t right. He strokes down the silky expanse of your ears while his other hand massages the base of your tail.

“Well, I missed you too, y’know? Couldn’t stop thinking about my sweet baby bunny the whole time I was at work,” he says.

You were already melting against his chest from the physical contact, but now a smile graces your features. “Really?” you ask, looking up at him again.

“Really,” he confirms, “I felt pretty bad leaving you all alone when it was supposed to be our day.”

“Oh, you don’t have to fe-” you start before he interrupts.

“No, I told you the day was gonna be for us. So how about this?” he asks, rubbing his thumb back and forth over your chin, “How about instead we make it a night for us? I’ll give you a nice bath, put you in some of the new stuff I got you.”

He kisses your head again, then your temple, then your cheek.

“Maybe daddy’ll even give you a special treat before you fall asleep,” he murmurs before kissing your lips.

Taking in a deep breath, you nod. You’re helpless when he treats you like this, disagreeing doesn’t even seem like an option.

“Will you get in the bath with me though?” you ask.

He grins and rises off the bed with you in his arms. “Of course. Anything for my baby bunny.”

The two of you head to the attached bathroom. He sits you on the counter while drawing the bath. Steam drifts up into the hair from the hot water pooling in the tub. He lights some candles, dims the lights, and lets you pick out the scent of bubbles you want.

You sit on the laminate countertop, lazily swinging your dangling legs as you watch him. He checks the temperature of the water multiple times and stares at the clear liquid coming from the bottle of bubble bath. Once that’s taken care of, it’s your turn. He slips your shirt over your head and your bottoms down your legs like you’re the most delicate thing on the face of the earth. Kisses land on your jaw as he pulls your panties off too and drops them in the hamper with the other articles of clothing. So meticulous about everything, at least when it came to you.

He scoops you up again and brings you to the bath, setting you down in the water before twisting the faucet off and discarding his own clothing. Then he climbs in behind you, slotting his body between yours and the cool marble.

“C’mere, baby. Nice and close to daddy,” he murmurs as he pulls you onto his thighs.

You sink into his chest. The feeling of his skin against yours is almost enough to make it all better, enough to make you forget about earlier. You nuzzle into his muscular front, making him smile. He strokes your face and takes care to avoid getting your ears wet.

Both baths and showers used to make you anxious, and he knew that. One of the details you had shared with him about your life at the shelter was having to share the space with all the other hybrids, including the bathrooms. You’d told him how much you hated it, and he could only imagine. He tried extra hard now to make both as comfortable for you as possible, pampering you like an absolute princess.

Thinking about all this, him going above and beyond for you like he always did, makes you turn more into his body. Your arms loop around him, and you place your head beside his, obscuring your downtrodden expression from his vision. Your chin rests on his shoulder as he returns the embrace and holds you closer.

“My perfect girl,” he whispers.

The words are complimentary, but right now, the second in particular stings like a blade. You nestle your face against the warmth of his throat and tighten your limbs around him, trying to drown out the bad swirling inside of you with the feeling of his flesh on yours.

He knows you’re still acting a little unusual. Maybe your heat was right around the corner and it had you feeling extra needy. Maybe you were just still a bit sad about missing out on a day with him. He wasn’t totally sure, but he just wanted to make it better. And the way you were starting to press against him, breasts flush against his chest and the warmth of your thighs pressing against either side of him had his cock starting to stiffen up.

“Sweet thing… you wanna feel a little closer, hm?” he murmurs, fingertips rubbing tiny circles into the small of your back.

You weakly nod.

“Is this close enough? Or should daddy get even closer? I think being inside would feel even better,” he whispers.

You nod again, this time with more motivation. “Please daddy,” you mumble.

“Of course. All you had to do was ask,” he says. He lazily strokes himself a few times beneath the water, getting himself a little harder before he lifts you slightly and slides in.

A soft moan drifts out of you as he lowers you again. You put your head back down on him and sit with the comfort of being full.

“There’s my baby bunny,” he coos in a low voice.

He also takes in the feeling of your tight walls sucking him in. The feeling of your warm, wet embrace wrapped around him.

The two of you sit quietly for a while more, the bathroom silent except for the occasional trickle of water when one of you shifts. Flickering lights from the candles paint the walls in dim orange as the scent of the bubble bath takes over the air completely.

But to Leon’s dismay, your mood doesn’t seem to be brightening up. You don’t start squirming with the need to ride him like you normally would. You don’t get extra sappy with him and start going for more kisses or longing looks.

He reaches for the wash cloth resting on the brim of the tub and soaks it in the water. He squirts some soap onto it and gently rubs it up and down your back. He can feel your muscles losing some of their tension, but you’re still withdrawn. He continues tenderly cleaning you off while you sit with him inside you.

After a few moments more, not knowing becomes unbearable. “Honey, what’s wrong?” he asks softly.

“Nothing, I’m-”

“You’re not just sleepy,” he interjects. His voice is still loving despite the confrontational manner of the conversation.

He gently guides you away from his body so you’re kneeling straight up in the bath. His eyes scan you over, trying to make this easier by figuring out what it is, but he can’t. He brings the wash cloth up to your chest and starts brushing it against your chest, between your breasts, and down your belly.

“I know something’s wrong, and I know you’re scared of talking about things like this. But I would honestly prefer you telling me what it is, even if it comes out harsh, to sitting here and trying to figure out what’s bothering you,” he says as he rubs your skin with the soft cloth.

“I don’t know,” you say timidly.

“I’m only asking because I care. I can’t help you if I don’t know what the problem is. Seeing you hurting hurts me too, baby,” he responds.

“I’m not lying. I don’t know,” you say again, some defensiveness seeping into your words, “I don’t know why I feel bad. I don’t know how to tell you what’s wrong. I just- I felt sad earlier, and I know I shouldn’t feel sad which makes me more sad.”

He sees the panic rising in your eyes and hears your words becoming more rushed. In an effort to keep the situation controlled, he pulls you back to his chest, hushing your worries by engulfing you with his arms. You reciprocate the motion, eager to retreat from your emotions. He takes a pause to grapple with what you had just said.

“What do you mean you shouldn’t feel sad?” he asks.

“Because… because there’s no reason to be sad,” you answer.

“If you’re sad, then there’s a reason to be sad,” he says and looks down at you with growing concern.

You shake your head. “No, there isn’t,” you whimper. You start to feel tears collecting in your eyes while your throat feels like it’s constricting. “You make everything so perfect for me, and I can’t do the same for you.”

He’s beyond confused at this point. He feels a couple tears fall against his neck, and all he can do is hold you tighter.

“Woah, woah, baby, c’mon,” he says, trying to prevent more tears, “What are you talking about? Perfect? I don’t expect you to be perfect.”

“Yeah, exactly because you are perfect. You never push me. You never ask for too much. You never do anything bad, and I still get like this,” you cry.

“... Is that a bad thing?” he asks, still lost.

“No, but I just wanna be perfect for you too. You work so hard all the time at your job, and then you come home and you have to deal with me,” you weep and cling onto him more, “I don’t deserve you.”

“Don’t say that,” he says in a hushed voice, “You’re exactly what I want. I couldn’t ask for anything more than you.”

“Yes, you could. You deserve someone who can give you what you give. You deserve someone who’s not fucked up by stupid stuff from the past,” you cry, “I’ll never be a perfect pet, and I don’t wanna disappoint you.”

His chest aches and tightens up when he hears that. He starts to pull out, figuring this wasn’t the time to be balls deep inside you, but you stay locked around him so he stays put.

“Sweetheart, you’re not… I don’t see you as…” he starts, being careful with his words.

You continue your quiet crying against him.

“You’re more than a pet to me,” he decides, soft but firm, “You don’t disappoint me ever. You can’t disappoint me because I don’t have expectations of what you should be. You’re not some dumb animal that I want to mold into a fantasy. I know you were treated like that before, but that’s not what you are to me. You’re my baby bunny. My little love.”

More tears spill out onto him. The bathwater ripples with the shaking of your body.

“You’re not fucked up,” he whispers, “That stuff you went through at the shelter, that’s a big deal. I don’t expect you to just be able to move on from that like it’s normal. You need some extra care, and I’ve known that since the first day you came home with me. It’s not a bad thing. It’s something I love about you. I’m not dealing with you when we do things like this. You’re not a burden to me.”

“Promise?” is all you can choke out right now.

“I promise, baby. Cross my heart and hope to die,” he murmurs and kisses your temple. He sighs and squeezes his arms around you before saying a little more amidst the quiet of the bathroom. “I’m not gonna pretend I know exactly how you feel. But I know how it is to get shoved into a life you didn’t ask for. To get expectations put on you that you can never meet. I don’t want you to feel like that with me. I love you, and I’m gonna love you whether you’re a perfect ‘pet’ or not. That’s not what’s important to me.”

You know he’s being genuine. You hold yourself closer and press a few faint kisses to his throat. “I’m sorry,” you cry.

“Nothing to be sorry for,” he whispers, “Just try and calm down for me, sweet girl. Take some deep breaths.”

You do as he says and work towards settling down. Your breathing slows, and the tears slowly stop. He grabs another washcloth and wets it. He guides your head up and gives you a small kiss before dabbing at your cheeks and cleaning your face of any remaining sadness. Your eyes flutter shut and relax under the loving care of his movements. He tends to your hair next, caring for it how you need.

Once your bath is done, he pulls out of you. You give him a little pout, bringing a smirk to his face.

“Patience, little one,” he teases before standing up with you in his arms.

He taps the stopper with his foot, draining the bathtub as he steps out. He sets you down so he can wrap a towel around his waist and then bundles you up in a big fluffy one. He dries you off and brings you in front of the mirror. He applies some product to your ears, something he’d gotten to keep them from drying out. You can’t help the smile on your face as his fingers gently rub down your long, fluffy ears. You can feel his love through his motions. He follows it with your hair routine, going through each step with precision and making sure to do it just how you like.

Before he takes you to the bedroom, his arms curl around your waist and he slots his head next to yours, gazing into your eyes through the reflective glass of the mirror.

“My baby bunny,” is all he says before pulling you out to the bed and laying you down on it.

He gets some of your lotion, a scent he’d become so familiar with. He rubs it all up and down your legs, taking time to lightly massage as he works. His hands glide all over your body, over your hips, up your sides, across your chest, and down your arms to your hands. Every inch of you was going to feel soft as silk if he could help it. The soft sighs of pleasure that come from you are enough to keep him thoroughly invested in the process.

When he’s finished, he plants a kiss on your lips and gets up. He heads to the door where you had dropped the shopping bags from earlier. He’s rifling through them, pulling out some new items you could wear to bed. He fishes out a cute t-shirt and some smooth panties when he hears your voice call to him.

“Wait, daddy?” you say.

“Yeah, baby?” he responds immediately, looking over his shoulder at you.

“Come back,” you request.

He looks at you curiously but stands up and walks back to the edge of the bed where you were sitting. Looking down at you lovingly, he holds your jaw and squeezes your cheeks. “What is it?”

“I don’t wanna get dressed yet… Maybe I could still have my treat… if you want to,” you initiate timidly while grabbing the hem of his towel.

He smiles and breathes out a laugh. “Yeah? You’re feeling better and need daddy again?” he asks teasingly, letting you tug the towel loose. It crumples to the floor behind his legs and unveils his cock to you.

“Always need my daddy,” you say, looking up at him.

“Don’t I know it,” he teases.

He pushes you back on the bed and crawls on top of you. Leaning down, he kisses and nips at your neck. His hands squeeze your hips. You nuzzle the side of his head affectionately. Out of the corner of your eye you see him swat away the plush cow that sat nearby on a pillow from when you’d thrown it earlier.

“Hey,” you say, feigning protest, “That’s mean. He didn’t do anything.”

“I’m sure he’ll forgive me,” he says with a grin.

Your body is already exposed from the bath, and he takes advantage. He kisses down along your collarbone towards the valley of your breasts. His palms cup them at the sides as his lips coast over them. He always took his time with you when he could. He’d get to rush when you were in heat and soaked just from being in the room with him.

Your fingers lace through the strands of his hair as you draw in a sharp breath. He laves at your nipples and the sensitive flesh of your breasts. His tongue caresses along the curves slowly, building your anticipation and causing your tummy to start fluttering.

His hand slides down your body, dipping between your legs to seek out your center. His fingers brush against the velvet folds and feel how they’re beginning to grow slick with your arousal. He swirls around your clit before pressing down on the sensitive nub and rubbing. Your lips part as you mewl.

“Is daddy already making you feel good, baby?” he coos.

You nod as your face starts to morph into that pouty look you get when you’re worked up. He loves every second of it and continues flicking his middle finger against the bud.

“You gonna let me show you how perfect you are, hm?” he asks.

You simply whine in response and tilt your head back against the pillows.

“That’s my girl. So fuckin’ pretty when you get like this,” he says.

He swipes his fingers up and down some more until he feels you're wet enough and ready to take him. He was certain you could take it without as much prep. Over the last couple of months, you’d you’d shown him the phrase “fucking like rabbits” was true after all, but he liked making you feel like you needed it. He like dragging his tip against your entrance, teasingly prodding the head of his cock at your hole. He savored the way you whine and squirm for it. Just like you were doing right now.

He pushes it in you, a deep groan coming from him as he sinks in all the way to the hilt. The way your eyes flutter and droop drives him crazy. His arms cage you down on the mattress as his knees sink into the plush blankets for leverage so that he can start thrusting.

“Perfect fit, that’s for sure,” he grunts, “No one else can take my cock like you can.”

You nod, whimpering and holding onto him. “Made for my daddy,” you say before gasping.

“Yeah you were. My perfect angel bunny. Sent down just for me,” he says and starts rocking his hips.

You writhe within the confines of his arms. Your breasts push up against his chest as your back arches. He fucks into you deep as he can, just how he knows you like it. Gripping your wrists, he pins them on the mattress, keeping you secure and in place so that he can piston his hips against you without interruption.

His own head tilts back, eyes shutting and lips separating the smallest bit. You gaze up at him like he’s the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen. Every bit of him makes you clamp around his length.

“Such a good girl,” he mutters, “This is just what you needed. Just needed daddy to breed you and get you nice and calm again.”

That word makes your fuse burn faster, and you nod vigorously. “Can’t help it daddy,” you whimper, “I’m just a bunny. Don’t know any better.”

“Oh, I know, baby. Sweet little bunny like you needs to be bred. You need daddy’s cock to function, don’t you? Nothing feels right if you haven’t been bred,” he says, picking up more speed.

“Mhm,” you squeak.

Your legs start trembling hard as he hammers into your sweet spot over and over. To stabilize you, he lets go of your wrists and places his palms on the back of your thighs. He’s pressing you so hard into the mattress it feels like you might drop through straight to the floor. You cry out for him again and again, spurring him on.

“Good girl. I gotta breed my perfect little bunny. Fuck you nice and full like you deserve,” he grunts. The bed creaks with the force of his movements.

He pants as he drills into you. His head eventually falls forward to your shoulder again, but his hips don’t stop rolling.

“Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum so hard, you’re gonna end up with a whole litter,” he moans.

Your eyes roll back and your legs lock around his waist. “Need it, daddy. Please,” you whine and clutch at his shoulders.

“I need it too baby. Need to knock up my sweet baby bunny. Gotta get you nice and full so everyone knows you’re all mine,” he says.

You’re both almost at the peak, gripping each other as tight as possible, sucking in air like there’s a limited supply. Both of you are moments from snapping when Leon’s eyes screw shut, his mind clouded by images of you pregnant with his babies. It’s too much, and he’s snapping into you like he’ll die otherwise.

“You’re gonna be the prettiest mama to our perfect babies,” he moans against you before his body starts sputtering.

The feeling of his cum flooding into you is enough to throw you over the edge with him. You seize up, back arching off the bed like you're possessed. You babble out some words of love, but all of it gets lost. You’re so jumbled up from the high, you both can only cling to each other as you ride it out.

You’re still breathing heavy as you come down, and so is he. Puffs of his breath come out right next to your ear. He lazily kisses below the lobe as you come back to reality.

“You see how important to me you are? See how much I love you?” he murmurs as he carefully rolls over and brings you to rest on his chest with him still buried inside you.

You nod and peck his jaw as you settle against him.

“Good. I never want you thinking like that again. If you ever need a reminder of what I think of you, I want you to tell me, and I’ll give you this same reminder.”

“I will,” you agree softly as he strokes your back.

You’re both exhausted from the exertion and the long day. He’s content to just melt into the bed while tangled up with you.

“Gonna keep you plugged up for a while, baby. Gotta make sure it takes, my sweet girl,” he mumbles as his eyes start drooping.

You gaze up at him, pretty sure you have hearts in your eyes. Your doubt and sadness had been abated for now. You nuzzle him and kiss his chest before trying to get some rest yourself.

“Love you daddy. So so much,” you whisper.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy smut #resident evil imagines #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut #resident evil x you

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babybeel · 1 year

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— yours sincerely petname reaction hcs

lucifer doesn’t need words to show he likes the petname. the first time it slips from your lips is exaggerated, teasing lilt in your tone as you hum a “whatever you say, dear.” the response you get isn’t quite the one you’d expect from the avatar of pride, smile evident as he asks, “what did you say?” “i don’t know,” you muse, all too knowing as the corners of your lips peak upwards, “what did i say, dear?” your pointer finger taps your chin in mock thought. lucifer lights up as you say it again, goading though adoring. you’ve won this one, pride be damned.

mammon is easy to tease, even easier to fluster. a whisper of “babe” sends him stuttering and stammering, desperately trying to hide his blush in the collar of his jacket. it’s a poor attempt, red creeping up to the tips of his ears that stick out over worn leather and white hair. “what’s wrong, babe?” you grin, smile wide and toothy. you’re sickly fond and never quite mocking. it sends mammon further into his tizzy and he can’t find it in himself to answer - for nothing’s wrong at all.

leviathan isn’t in the habit of using or receiving petnames, unless it’s thick and syrupy and scathing from asmo. so when the adoring “sweetheart” drops from your lips, he freezes. it takes a moment for him to face you, eyes darting as his blush deepens. but your smile is charming -- disarming even -- and sure. it soothes levi’s nerves, replacing the multitude of thoughts bouncing around his head to a soft chant of sweethearts. heart content and mind dazed, he knows he’ll think of a cute name to call you too.

careful with his words, satan is quick to register the “love” that accompanies your sentence. a quickened heartbeat and uncontrollable smile tells him how much he likes it, a hitch of the breath and adoring gaze tells you how much he likes it. an affectionate reminder of your feelings, chosen specifically to address him. there’s a level of disbelief for the avatar of wrath, that something so tender and fond can be solely for him, and there’s an even larger level of happiness for his name to be replaced with love. already besotted, the use of “my love” sends him dizzy. he’ll always be yours.

asmodeus blooms! the first to call you honey, baby, lovely, you’ve long since come to associate sweet names with the avatar of lust. seeking to reciprocate the affection, “darling” is tacked to the end of your sentence. it’s a little awkward, a little hesitant, but asmo adores its roughness all the same, he adores you. a sharp excited squeal is all you get as warning before asmo launches himself at you, latching his arms around your frame. “you’re just the cutest, i could eat every last bit of you up!” he exclaims, kiss pressed to your cheek, “say it again?” the name falls from your lips like a mantra - darling, darling, darling.

a cheery “hi, handsome!” greets beelzebub as he trudges through the doors of the house of lamentation, equal parts tired and hungry after a long fangol practice. but the name stops beel in his tracks, said with such happiness of his arrival and such certainty of his looks. his eyes are wide as he flushes under your bright gaze and warm grin. a pretty pink skates across his cheeks as beel returns your affection with a gentle smile, shy and lovely. and beel, tall and built and mud-splattered, suddenly looks small. you’re sure to call him handsome more often.

belphegor responds to your ask of “can you pass me that please, baby?” without thought, body moving before he can even register it. youngest of his brothers, he’s been spoilt and coddled, used to getting his way. it’s no wonder that the same applies for you too. so it’s easy for belphie to turn the tables, fluster you with a mere “you should use that more often, baby.” it’s a little mocking, a little mean, but it’s so like belphegor to hide his affection under teases that you find yourself smiling all the same, ignoring the heat in the apples of your cheeks. because belphie doesn’t mind being called baby, not one bit.

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harringtonstilinski · 4 months

Text

..Ready For It? (Steve's Version) - Steve Harrington (Smut)

Author: @harringtonstilinski Characters: Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader Word Count: 6,219 Warnings: fluff, use your imagination for the lingerie Requested: no | yes; i hope it meets your expectations, @fandom-princess-forevermore!! Smut: no | yes; oral (f receiving), protected p in v, first name kink is that even a thing?, A/N: Hi, friends! Surprise, surprise, another smut piece! If you like this chapter, please do not hesitate to reblog and give some feedback, whether it be in the reblogs, comments, or my inbox. As always, read at your own risk and enjoy 😊

Steve Harrington. Your assignment partner turned best friend… turned crush. It all started sophomore year when you two were assigned to be partners in math class. Your teacher claimed that the lesson was going to be a hard one and that two heads would be better than one. So, he decided to partner the students up in order to see if his claims were true.

They weren’t true… for you at least. You found the harder stuff a little bit more easier than the easier materials. Steve, of course, struggled a little, but once he got the hang of it, you flew through the lesson, finishing in three days rather than the four your teacher said it’d take.

When Steve had come to you the following Monday, handing you the math test you’d taken the previous Friday with a smile that he was trying so hard to contain, you knew he passed with at least a low C.

A smile had crossed your face at seeing the 80/B on his paper, your eyes landing on his before he excitedly picked you up and spun you around in the middle of the hallway, not caring that there were other students walking around that you almost kicked.

From then on, the two of you were inseparable. That was, of course, was after the youngest Byers boy went missing, only to be found a week later in some place called the Upside Down, titled that by your little brother Dustin and his friends, that called themselves the Party.

Steve had protected you, your brother and his friends during the events of Dart, as well as the latest event; The Mind Flayer, that apparently hadn’t gone away like you all had thought. Steve and Robin, both of your best friend, had lost their jobs at Scoops that was located in Starcourt Mall before it burned down… from all the fireworks that you all had thrown at the nasty creature.

Now, you were sitting on a stool at the counter of Family Video, Steve and Robin’s newest job, reading your book. You were completely lost in the words on the pages, you didn’t register what Steve and Robin were talking about.

“I mean, it’s not that I don’t want to try and be with someone long term,” Steve said. “It’s just that I haven’t met anyone that I would want to be with long term.”

“Aside from one girl that’s sitting at our checkout/return counter reading a book?” Robin bemused, gesturing her head towards you, gaining Steve’s attention.

As he looked at you, he watched as you smiled at something in your book before you chuckled at the pages, your head shaking as you turned the page, a gasp sounding from you not a moment later before you exclaimed “Traitor!” at the page.

Looking up from your book, your face dropped as you saw the smirks on Steve and Robin’s faces. “This fucker is a damn traitor. Tristan promised Carmen a date and that he wasn’t in love with any other woman, but he lied! He’s going on a date with a woman that’s not– oh, wait.” You had looked back down to get more details, but realized you hadn’t read onto the next paragraph for an explanation. “Nevermind. It was his fucking sister.”

Groaning, you placed your bookmark into your book, closing it and looking up. “Hey, is Keith here?”

“Yeah, why?” Robin asked.

“What do you say to the three of us,” you said, pointing to yourself, as well as Steve and Robin. “Going to get some lunch. I’m starving.”

When your eyes landed on Steve’s, he shrugged and looked towards Robin, who had a knowing look on her face. “You two go ahead and go,” she said, patting Steve on the shoulder. “Someone needs to be here to hold down the fort.”

“Perfect! Well, I mean, not–”

Steve chuckled, turning his body towards the back rooms. “I’m gonna go let Keith know I’m taking my break. I’ll be right back.”

You nodded before grabbing your book, shoving it into your purse before standing up and walking to the Rom-Com section, skimming through the movies you might want to rent for your movie night with Max, since her mom wasn’t being much of a mom these days since Neil took off after Billy had died.

“Oh, Max the store before you got here,” Robin said. “She said she has to cancel tonight. Lucas wants to hang out with her.”

Sighing, you moved from the Rom-Com’s over to the Crime section, spotting a movie that had been one of your favorites for a couple of years. Smiling to yourself, you picked it up and walked over to the counter, Robin already waiting for you.

She looked at the cover before looking up at you through your lashes. “The Outsiders?”

“Again?” Steve asked, grabbing something from under the counter.

“Yes, Steven, again,” you deadpanned. “It’s a good movie.”

“How many times have you-” he started, only to face Robin to ask her, “How many times has she checked it out?”

Clicking through the computer, Robin’s eyes stayed on the screen. When she got to your information, she sighed and said, “Four.”

“Seriously?” Steve asked, looking at you through his lashes.

Shrugging, you said, “I can’t help it! Rob Lowe is just- mmm.”

Steve and Robin chuckled as Keith came out from the back, your eyes going wide before you ducked behind the counter, trying to hide from the store manager.

“I saw you, Henderson,” Keith said.

As you stood, you smiled shyly, resting an arm on the counter. “Heeeeey, Keith. Haven’t I told you that–”

“You’re not checking it out again,” he said.

“Oh, come on!” you whined. “Why not?”

“We have a three rent rule. You can only rent a movie three times.”

“What?! That’s not a rule!”

“That’s my rule.”

Narrowing your eyes, you asked quietly, “Is this because I wouldn’t go on a date with you when you were manager of the arcade?”

All he did was munch on a Cheeto Puff before he turned and walked back into the back of the store, leaving you to groan and toss your head back. “He’s such a dick.”

Chuckling, Steve typed something on the computer before walking around the counter to you. “Come on. Let’s go get some lunch and then after my shift, you and I can hang out. Have our own little movie night.”

You pretended to think about it for a moment before locking your eyes with Steve’s, chuckling when you saw the deadpan expression on his face. “Okay, okay. We can do that. I’ll have to go get some popcorn and candy.”

“Why don’t you guys start early?” Robin said. “Steve, I’ll tell Keith some lame excuse so that you and this fine lady here can enjoy each other’s company.”

“That’s okay, Robin,” you said. “I have some things to take care of at home first before his shift ends.”

“Are you sure?” they asked.

Chuckling, you replied, “Yes, twins, I’m sure.” Looking at Steve, you looped your arm through his, smiling. “Let’s go, Harrington!”

~~~

After you and Steve had lunch, he took you both back to Family Video, where your car was. You told him that you had to go home for a little while but that you’d be at his house after getting the popcorn and candy for your impromptu movie night.

As you were folding your laundry that you washed earlier in the day, your landline rang. Without looking away from the shirt you had grabbed from your laundry basket, you picked the receiver up, putting it in between your ear and shoulder. “You’ve reached the best looking Henderson, what’s up?” A chuckle on the other end had you sighing. “What do you want, Munson?”

“Just wondering if Dustin is coming to Hellfire tonight, princess. That’s all.”

“I play one freaking time and you all refer to me as princess since.”

“It’s adorable.”

“You’re adorable,” you deadpan. “Uhm, I’m not sure. Why not call the house and ask?”

Eddie sighed on his end. “I did, but he told me to call you and ask if you could bring him.”

Looking off the side, you scrunched your brows, pausing your motions of putting the shirt on a hanger. “He couldn’t have just asked me to bring him, or you for that matter?”

“Eh, it’s more fun to annoy you.” You could hear the smugness in his voice as you closed your eyes and sighed heavily. “I already know what you’re going to say, so thank you, princess.”

“You’re fucking welcome,” you gritted through clenched teeth. “I have to run a couple of errands before I drop him off, but it’s your responsibility to bring him home, Munson!”

“Don’t worry, m’lady. He will be home, safe and sound after Hellfire.”

A small smile crossed your face. “Thanks, Munson.” As the two of you hung up, you sighed, thanking the stars above that Dustin had another older male figure in his life other than Steve, who worked a lot and barely had time for Dustin.

The thought made you sad as you put another shirt on another hanger before your phone rang again. A groan fell from your lips, your head tilting back in frustration before you picked the receiver back up, answering with “Henderson.”

“Should I come pick you up?”

“Steve-”

“I know you said you needed to run-”

“I have to take Dustin to Hellfire tonight, but I’ll get the stuff and be over right after. I promise!”

“Okay,” Steve chuckled. “Don’t forget the stuff!”

“What makes you think I’m gonna forget?”

~~~

“I forgot the stuff,” you said after Steve opened his door, a sheepish smile on your face.

All Steve could do was chuckle and shake his head, Standing to the side, he let you walk in as you rambled.

“I took Dustin to Hellfire, and I was gonna go before I took him, but he was super insistent-” Stealing a glance at him through your lashes, you muttered, “You know how he can be-” Going back to taking off your coat and shoes. “So, when we got to the school, the Club was outside and they wanted me to hang out for a minute, so I did and then one minute led to another and next thing I knew-” You started walking into the kitchen. “I had lost track of the time and when it hit me that I had actual plans with you, I was rushing out of the school, trying not to break any road ru-” You turned around, not seeing Steve standing behind you. “Steve?”

“Living room,” he chuckled.

Walking into the living room with the drinks you had grabbed from the fridge during your rant, you sighed. Setting the drinks down, you sat on the couch, propping your feet up on the table in front of you, crossing your ankles. “So, what movie is going to be gracing our eyes tonight, dear Steven?”

Steve slightly stiffened at you calling him by his full first name. He didn’t know why, but he loved you calling him that. It made his cock twitch in his pants. Sighing to himself, that didn’t go unnoticed by you, he messed with the VCR before standing from his squatting position. “You’ll see,” he replied, walking over to sit next to you.

“Is it Fast Times? I swear to shit, Steve, if it’s Fast Times again–”

“You. Will. See,” he said, poking your leg with two words before poking your side with the last word.

“Okay, don’t tickle me or else we’ll be rolling on the floor having a tickle fight.”

While the previews played, you got comfortable against Steve, resting your head against his shoulder as his arm came to wrap around you. As he lightly rubbed up and down your arm, he asked, “Did you finish your book today?”

“Almost,” you sighed. “I have a few pages left, but when I went to go start on the last chapter, Dustin almost got my door stuck in the wall with how hard he opened it.”

Steve chuckled, continuing the motions on your arm. “I forget you guys have pocket doors.”

“It’s a blessing and a curse sometimes.” Your eyes lit up as you looked at the tv screen, seeing The Outsiders title card. Sitting straight up, your eyes widened in excitement and happiness before you turned to look at Steve. “You rented it?!”

Nodding his head, Steve smiled softly. “You wanted to watch it, so I- oh, shit!” He laughed as you launched yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” You pressed a kiss to his cheek, causing him to laugh.

“You’re welcome. Now, sit down so we can watch it.”

About halfway through the movie, you started to yawn, moving your head to get more comfortable on Steve’s shoulder.

Steve chuckled, trying to look down at you. “you tired?”

Yawning again, you nodded. “A little. I cleaned and did laundry today. That normally makes me really tired once I’ve-” Yawn. “-had some time to relax.”

“Do you want to go to bed?”

You looked up at him, smiling a little. “Sure.” As you were getting up, you notice Steve hesitate for a moment. scrunching your brows, you placed a hand on his forearm, asking, “are you okay?”

He looked at you before sitting up to face you some. “Yeah, I'm fine. there’s just… there’s just something I wanna do before we head to bed.”

“What’s-” your words were cut off by Steve gently placing his lips on yours, waiting to see what your reaction would be.

You were shocked, to say the least, and he didn’t move not one muscle, letting you take the lead on the kiss.

After a moment, he went to pull back, but stopped when your hands cupped either side of his neck, pressing your lips against his.

Your lips moved in sync for a moment, the two of you in kissing bliss… before a throat being cleared had you two breaking apart.

“No funny business, son,” his father said. “Either go up stairs and show her the guest room or take her home.” Mr. Harrington walked away towards his own bedroom as Steve took your hand in his to lead you upstairs.

“Don’t take me to the guest room,” you whispered. “Take me to yours. I wanna finish what we started.” You had a sly smile on your lips as you followed Steve up to his room.

Once inside his little safe haven, he closed the door and grabbed your waist, pulling you toward him before he guided you back to his mattress.

When your back hit the mattress, you started to get nervous. hearing all the girls at school talk about steve and what he did right before sex had you wondering what they were talking about back then. Now that you were seeing first hand, your nerves were starting to show.

He crawled on top of you, a small smile adorning his features before he kissed you again. He went to kiss your neck, not missing the light gasp that came from your mouth.

“Mmm, Steve?”

“Yeah, baby?” he whispered.

“M-maybe we should, uhm… should take things a little slow,” you said, it coming out more as a question than a statement.

He looked at you, cupping your cheek. “We can go at whatever pace you want.”

“Okay,” you breathed, smiling. “ ‘cause I've, uhm… I’ve never-”

Realization dawned on him as you stammered out your words before he quietly asked, “Are you a virgin?”

Looking down at his shirt, you messed with a spot on it, hesitantly nodding your head. When you looked back up at him, he was softly smiling back at you.

“That's okay, baby. I'm glad you told me. Like I said, we can go at whatever pace you want.”

With tears starting to shine in your eyes, you just looked at him, thanking the stars above that they put Steve Harrington into your life. “Thank you,” you whispered.

He kissed you again before getting up off the bed to retrieve some pajama pants for himself, and one of his sleeping shirts for you.

That night, you had the best sleep since November 1983. you almost forgot what it felt like to sleep that good! and it was all thanks to Steve Harrington.

~~~

After that night, you and Steve were practically joined at the hip for the next month! By Christmas, he was calling you his girlfriend, which you didn’t mind not one bit.

You found yourself ready for intimacy with Steve. You’d been hinting at it while Christmas shopping for your friends and families. Deciding to hint at it one more time to see if he would catch on while the two of you shopped, you stopped at the Victoria’s Secret storefront for a moment before walking inside the store.

“Hey, Steve?” you called after a few minutes of looking around. “What do you think about this?”

Steve walked over towards you, seeing a very sexy piece of lingerie in your hands. “F-for what?” he asked, putting his hands in his pockets. His nervous tick you had noticed way back in high school.

“For me?” you questioned, looking at him with your brows scrunched. “I mean, it’s cute, right?” You went back to looking at the material in your hands. “It’d be cute on, sure, but… wouldn’t it be cute-” You turned to look at him, running your finger up and down his jacket, seductively. “-on your bedroom floor?”

You watched as Steve’s Adam's apple bobbed up and down. Cheering internally, you were so proud of yourself for taking a step out of your comfort zone. What you didn’t know was that Steve’s cock twitched again when you said it.

Sighing, you looked at the rack and put the piece of lingerie back, looking at it almost longingly. You knew you were putting on an act, but Steve didn’t. It’s what made it fun for you, despite your inexperience.

Steve had inkling that you were probably getting to give him what you both really wanted, but he ended up shooting that idea down when you told him you didn’t want to talk about it a couple of weeks back.

It’s not that you didn’t want to talk about. It’s that if you did talk about it, you’d want to jump his bones right then and there… when you weren’t ready. And now that you were ready, it seemed like Steve went radio silent on talking about sex.

When Steve had told you that he was gonna go look for one more person to buy a Christmas gift for, your eyes went sad before you nodded and agreed to meet him in the food court. Once he walked away, you smirked slyly to yourself, picking the piece of lingerie back up and walking to the counter, purchasing the material for yourself, deciding that tonight… was going to be the night.

~~~

After you and Steve had met in the food court, you both agreed it was time to go back to his house since your parents were having a Christmas party with all of their friends, something you definitely were not interested in doing at the moment.

When you two made it back to Steve’s house, you told him you needed to do something before you sat down on the couch to enjoy a quiet movie night together. With a smile on your face, you ran up the stairs and to his room, shutting the door before moving to his attached bathroom.

Taking the lingerie out of the bag, your smile fell into a satisfied one as you looked at it. With a contented sigh, you nodded your head, placing it onto the counter part of the sink, removing your clothes and undergarments from the day to put the lingerie on. Deciding to put on some of Steve’s favorite pajamas that you wore, you went to the drawer that housed your pajamas, grabbing the ones you needed out.

After you got dressed, you went back down the stairs, smelling the popcorn that Steve had apparently made. If you hadn’t had sexy underwear on, you’d be more excited about the popcorn.

You wrapped your arms around his middle once you made it to the kitchen, resting your cheek on his back, faintly hearing his heartbeat through his back.

“Well, hello,” Steve said, smiling. He turned around, your head tilting back a little to look at him better as his hands came to your cheeks. “You ready for our movie?”

“Is it-”

“A Christmas Story? Yes. I know you love to watch it during this time of the year.”

All you could do was smile at your boyfriend. You hadn’t been together long, but you could feel the love you had for each other. You also decided that tonight was the night you’d tell him those three words.

Reaching around Steve, you grabbed the popcorn, popping a piece into your mouth while turning and walking into the living room, giving your hips little more swing than normal.

Steve gulped, resting his hands on the counter behind him. “Fuck. I’m in trouble,” he whispered to himself. He grabbed the two water bottles he retrieved from the refrigerator as the popcorn was popping before going into the living with you, stopping dead in his tracks at seeing what you were wearing.

Trying to be as seductive as ever, you put a piece of popcorn into your mouth, asking, “See what you like, Steve?”

He didn’t hesitate to nod as he walked closer to you. After he set the water bottles down, he grabbed the bowl from you, setting it on the table before placing his lips on yours in a searing kiss.

You squealed in surprise before closing your eyes to wrap your arms around Steve’s neck, kissing him back with the same amount of fervor he was kissing you with. Your body moved before you could even think about it, sliding down the couch so that the two of you could get more comfortable.

Steve slotted himself in between your legs, propping himself up on his arms to not crush you. He moved his lips in sync with yours for what felt like forever before he moved his lips from yours to your cheek down to your jaw and neck, where he found your sweet spot, lightly sucking when he heard your gasp of pleasure.

Your fingers carded through the back of his hair, keeping him in place while he worked on your skin. A moan that had escaped had him laughing and kissing that spot he was attacking before looking you in the eyes.

“You like that?” he asked.

With your bottom lip in between your teeth, you nodded before kissing him again, your lips moving in sync before his tongue asked for entrance to your mouth, which you granted. Groaning at the feel on your tongue on his, Steve brought a hand to your outer thigh, hiking your leg up on his hip.

“Steve,” you quietly moaned. “I have,-” His lips on the juncture of your neck and shoulder had you gasping. “I have something,-” Your teeth went in between your teeth as you groaned. “I have-,” Steve moved to your shoulder, pulling the top of your sleeve down before stopping at what he saw. When you looked at his eyes, you giggled. “I was trying to tell you that I have something to show you.”

Lightly pushing Steve off of you, you sat up and stood by the couch, a playful smirk on your face before you turned and ran away from him, laughing. He lightly chuckled as he looked down before taking a deep breath in and getting up from the couch, chasing after you.

He found you in his room, and he almost fell at the sight before him. You, in the lingerie you had shown him at the mall just a few hours before. “You-you bought it in r-red?” he stuttered.

When your eyes met, you nodded shyly, feeling a tad insecure just standing in some sexy underwear in front of him. This was way out of your comfort zone. Excitement burst through you as you watched Steve take his shirt off as he walked towards you, his hands going to your cheeks after he discarded the item to the floor, crashing his lips against yours in a kiss that could only be described as heated and hungry.

You moaned into the kiss as you wrapped your arms around his neck. He picked you up, your legs going around his middle as he turned you both around to lay you down onto his bed, your bodies bouncing with the action.

Detaching his lips from yours, Steve sat back on his legs, running his hands up your thighs to the top of your panites. “Can I take these off?” he asked.

With your teeth between your lips, you nodded.

He gave you a questioning look, asking, “Are you sure? Because once these come off, there’s no going back.”

“I’m sure,” you whispered. “I’m ready. I want you to take me. Deflower me, as they would say.” Sitting up, you placed your hands on his chest, fingers lightly scratching at the hair that was there. “You’re it for me, Steve. Take it… because I want you to be the one who takes my virginity. Because…” It’s now or never. “...because I love you.”

“Fuck, I love you, too,” he breathed, moving to press his lips against yours before gently laying you back. Slowly pulling the panties down your legs, Steve kept his eyes on you, not wanting to make you feel uncomfortable in the slightest.

When he pulled the item off, he dropped them to the ground before looking at your knees that were tightly shut. Gently, he pried them apart, not taking his eyes off of you for a second. “Don’t be scared,” he whispered, leaning down to hover over you. “You have not a damn thing to hide from me.”

You nodded before situating yourself up the mattress more, resting your head on his pillow before releasing a deep breath and looking down at Steve, who was already laying on his stomach, looking at your core in awe.

“You’re so wet,” he muttered. Looking up at you, he asked, “This all for me?”

Tentatively, you nodded, doing your best to relax your knees. “All for you, Stevie.” At his look of disapproval, your anxiety started to spike.

He placed his hands on your thighs as you tried to close your legs. “Not Stevie. Not tonight.”

“S-Steve?” you asked, to which he shook his head. “Steven?”

He all but growled as he looked at your wet heat, licking a strip from your entrance up to your clit, your head tossing back into the pillows as you gasped, your hands coming up to rest beside your head.

“Oh, my god,” you breathed. “Steven!”

“That’s right, baby,” he said. “Say my name. Screeeeeam my name.”

“Steve,” you whispered, feeling his tongue attack your clit. You gripped the underside of his pillow for some sort of support as he licked another stripe up your core, stopping on your clit. His attention on your bud was almost like he was licking an ice cream cone on a hot summer day.

Moving one of your hands to your thigh, your fingers laced with Steve’s as you felt your orgasm building. “Oh, my god!” you whined. Looking down at Steve, you breathed, “Holy shit.”

Looking up at you, Steve asked, “It okay if I finger you?”

Quickly nodding your head, you said, “Yes,” before another whine left your throat at the feel of two of Steve’s fingers sliding into you with ease from all the slick that you and Steve had built up.

Your moans came out as pants as you squeezed Steve’s hand, feeling him squeeze yours back. “St-Steve… I’m gonna cum.” A frustrated groan sounded from you when you felt Steve stop all movements. Glaring down at him, you narrowed your eyes, saying, “I swear to god, Steven-.” Your words were cut when he dove back into your core, a moan of his name falling from your lips as you came all over his fingers.

Steve helped you ride out your high, giving you sweet praises as he kissed your inner thigh. “That’s it, baby. You did so good.” Crawling back over you, he smiled before placing his lips on yours, your lips moving in sync as you worked on unbuckling his belt, removing it from its loops on his jeans.

Standing from the bed, Steve slid jeans and boxers down as you propped up on your elbows, teeth right back in between your teeth. He chuckled at you as your eyes went from his eyes, to his chest, his abdomen, and then finally, on his cock.

Nerves started to creep back in as you trailed your eyes back up his body. “Is… it’s gonna fit, right?” you asked, watching as he slid the condom onto his length before crawling back over you.

He nodded, running a finger through your folds. “It’ll fit.” Grabbing his shaft, he gathered as much wetness from your entrance as he could before going still, letting out a breath. Looking at you, he asked, “It’s gonna hurt. Are you ready for it?”

You let out your own breath, closing your eyes to ready yourself. When you opened your eyes, you looked into the hazel orbs that you loved so much. Threading your hands through the sides of his hair, you nodded, whispering, “I’m ready.”

Steve looked at you for a moment before kissing you, gently, while pushing himself inside of you.

A pained gasp sounded from you, tears springing to your eyes at the intrusion as you squeezed them shut while Steve rested his forehead on your shoulder, grunting. Kissing your shoulder all the way up to the side of your mouth, he voiced his apologies, bringing his arms up to cage in your head, wiping your tears away.

The head of his cock was the only thing inside of you, so when he tried to move in a little more, you whimpered.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” he whispered, kissing your cheek.

You shook your head, swallowing the next whimper that wanted to escape. “It’s okay, it’s fine. Just… gimme a second. You’re fucking huge.”

Sighing, he said, “You’re so fucking tight.” He looked at you, moving hair from your forehead, saying, “Baby, look at me.”

Opening your eyes, you felt two tears fall from the corners down to your ears. He watched as they fell, catching them before they could fall to your ears.

“I gotta try some more or else I’m gonna explode.”

Your chuckle turned into a whimper, almost forgetting that his dick was partially inside you. You took a deep breath, releasing it as you said, “Okay.” Nodding you repeated the word, adding, “Kiss me while you do. It might help the small amount of p-”

He kissed you before you could finish your sentence, pushing inside until he was fully sheathed.

Breaking the kiss, your head pressed further into the pillow as you loudly exclaimed, “Fuck! That hurts.”

Ever the gentleman that he was, Steve let you adjust to his size as he pressed light kisses all over your cheek, feeling your quick breaths as you adjusted, the pain turning into pleasure.

You sighed, taking the sides of his neck in your hands to bring his face level with yours. “You-you can move now. I think I’m good.”

Steve didn’t say anything as he kissed you, pulling out almost all the way before sliding back in, the both of you hissing. He set a slow pace to help you get acquainted with the feel of his cock sliding in and out.

“More,” you gasped. “Steven… more.”

“Fuck,” he muttered, going at a faster pace, whines of pleasure meeting his ears. “You feel incredible, baby girl.”

You moaned, arching your back at the use of the nickname before whining in pleasure as Steve bucked a little harder than he intended. “Fuck, Steve. Do that again.”

He looked at you, stopping his movements. “You sure?”

“I swear to fuck, Steve, if you don’t move-” Your words were cut off by a gasp in pleasure at the feel of Steve’s hips snapping into yours. “Ho-ly shit,” you said with each thrust of his hips.

“Goddamn, you feel incredible,” Steve grunted.

“You might’ve mentioned that,” you said, a smile on your face.

Gasping, you carded your fingers through the back of his head, gripping onto his locks gently as he brought his fingers to your clit, circling the sensitive nub. “Mmm!” you half moaned, half whined, your bottom lip between your teeth. “Steven! I’m gonna-” Your words were once again cut off as your release hit you before you could voice it.

“Shit, baby girl. I’m gonna cum,” Steve breathed, his thrusts growing sloppy. One, two, three, four, five more thrusts and he was spent, his seed spilling into the condom.

You could feel him pulsing inside of you, which was a weird feeling in and of itself

The two of you stayed like that for a moment, trying to catch your breaths… before you started giggling, which turned into full on laughter.

Steve looked at you with concern. “Baby?”

“Oh, my god,” you laughed. You looked at him, trying to control your laughter. “I’ve never cum that hard in my life.”

Steve chuckled, resting his forehead on your shoulder. With a soft groan, he lifted himself up to rest on his hands, looking at you with so much love and adoration. “I have pull out now ‘cause I’m starting to get soft.”

You nodded, ready for that small amount of sting that everyone talks about. Hissing came from both of you as he pulled out. But what you felt wasn’t pain, it was the feeling of the tiniest bit of overstimulation, your body jolting a little.

“You okay?” Steve asked, sitting back on his knees, rubbing your calf.

Your answer came as a nod, a sigh falling from your lips as he nodded to himself, bending over to kiss your knee before getting up off the bed to clean himself up. Not knowing what to do, you sat up on your elbows, looking around his room.

When you turned over to look at his nightstand, you noticed the picture frame sitting next to his lamp. Inside was a picture of the two of you after one of Steve’s basketball games.You both were smiling big, but as you were looking at the camera, Steve was looking at you. That was a happy day for the two of you.

The Hawkins High Tigers had won that game, and you both were elated, high on adrenaline. That was the night the two of you realized that you liked each other more than friends, but never voiced anything to each other, not knowing you both felt the same.

When Steve came out of his bathroom sighing, he looked up at you, seeing the frame in your hand that you had picked while thinking about that night. “What’cha doing?” Steve asked, crawling on the bed behind you, kissing your shoulder.

“Thinking about the night this picture was taken,” you said, hissing at the end from the feel of something warm on your sore core. Taking a deep breath, you released it as you turned to lay on your back, picture frame still in your hand above your face. “That night…-” you whispered. “...was the night I realized I liked you as more than a friend.”

Steve laid next to you, kissing your shoulder again as he put his arm around your middle. He looked at the picture, smiling to himself as he also thought about that night. When he saw in the crowd, cheering him on while wearing his number on your face, he knew. He knew that you were the one for him.

He played his heart out that night, only taking a couple breaks to catch his breath. When he turned to see if you were looking at him or watching the game, he would smile to himself, seeing you angry at something the other team did to the Hawkins players.

When you placed the picture back on his nightstand, he sighed softly, closing his eyes before opening them up again at feeling you move under his arm. Laying on your side, you looked at him, staring into those hazel eyes that you fell in love with all those years ago.

“Thank you,” you whispered, bringing your arm up between the two of you, placing your fingertips on his jaw.

“For what?” he asked, softly.

“Giving me the best night of my life.” Smiling, you cupped his face the best you could, lifting your head from the pillow the slightest bit to press a kiss to his lips.

“You’re welcome,” he replied, pressing his lips back on yours.

Before the two of you feel asleep just as you were, your asses bare for the world to see, you both said those three words that were confessed earlier in the night.

“I love you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N 2: hi, friends! let me know what you thought about! again, please do not hesitate to reblog and give some feedback, whether it be in the reblogs, comments, or my inbox.

Additional Notes: we’re also adding a lot of new things up top! let me know what y’all think about that! is it more organized, is it more chaotic? let me know! :)

~~~

Forever / Everything Taglist: @stiles-o-dylan24 @stixnstripesworld @fandom-princess-forevermore @quanticobae @mischiefandi @kellyashcroft @lauren-novak

Steve Harrington Taglist: @madaboutjoe

If you’re tagged and didn’t want to be, please let me know.

Italics wouldn’t let me tag!

~~~

*Please don’t post my writing anywhere else without my consent. The author of this work will always and forever be @harringtonstilinski.

All characters, story lines, and plot aside from y/n and her storyline & plot, are all of the work of The Duffer Brothers.

*These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited.

No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.

Posted on January 13, 2024

#steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut

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wispythreads · 6 months

Text

I did catch on to that part of it with him bouncing between jobs so frequently, and some of the other things like the fridge freezer, but they were still included in the jumbled up thoughts I listed out partly because I was thinking about them before coming to an answer, and partly because I'm not fully sure if those answers are all there is to it.

Cause, yeah, there’s the newspaper clipping rebuking him for being “unprofessional and brash” (which damn that’s also just rotating in my head because Vince was clearly reading this specific clipping earlier and blatantly lied saying Rody hadn’t been mentioned at all, later scribbling out the section talking about the waiter), he’s very clearly messy and unkempt in pretty much every aspect of his life, and even if he gets the to-go question right in the tutorial, Vince appends the "Good work." with "keep tone in mind."

But, the thing is, he does know a lot of the basics. Much of the tutorial is really just for the benefit of the player to know how the mechanics of the game works, Rody meanwhile nods along and does whatever task is needed without comment, only getting tripped up when Vince mentions the way the menu for his bistro works, and when the aforementioned customer asked if he could get boxes to go or call in his order ahead of time. Which I think are reasonable things to get tripped up on! Those seem like things that would vary depending on the establishment he was working for.

I keep thinking about his reaction when Vince pivoted the conversation of "do you actually like your job" onto Rody. His awkward response that it paid him money. Vince voicing specifically “I doubt you wanted to wait tables for a living-”, and that being met with how there was “something” Rody went to school for, that he was too hesitant to tell Vince, feeling he’d get made fun of. The impression that its some passion he had that just didn't work out. The revelation later that the “something” in question was him majoring in hospitality.

He was afraid he'd be made fun of for actively going to school and choosing to study for skills that, either ironically or purposefully, would've been useful for his current job of waiting tables. A goal that he flunked out of. He has had 28 jobs in the service industry over the course of 7 years. He keeps losing his job, but he also keeps getting hired.

I keep thinking of the post-credits scene of the Best Served Hot, whisky lemon cake ending. "I can't keep watching you ruin any semblance of progress you make with yourself while trying to make me happy, it's exhausting-"

He's only 4 days into this job when he approaches Vince for a raise. He already figures he'll have enough to do something nice for Manon, his "girlfriend," by the end of the week, but he wants more to make it really special. He is very clearly told 'no.'

On the 5th day, when his shift is finally over and done, we don't next see him as we usually do, back at his apartment. He's still at the bistro, all the lights turned out. The only other person presumably being Vince hacking away at the meat in the freezer that'll be used for the meals in the morning. The first time I went through that night, I presumed Rody had just been selected to stay late and help clean up for the night, with whatever Vince was doing in the background ominous horror ambience to be unsettled by.

But we can't really do anything while there that would support this initial assumption. There are only two things you can do. Snoop around in Vince's office, and... steal from the cash register. Whether you avoid doing the latter as I did or not, it has no bearing on whatever ending you get, but just the fact that it's even an option to Rody...

How many other times did he allow his love for Manon to rule over his decisions, making choices in the pursuit of what he believed would make her happy, no matter the cost, before finally facing a price for his obsession beyond the scope of his worst nightmares?

...

And after all that I do want to defend the rollerskates a bit because

Rollerskates in restaurants are kinda a thing, in the 1960s (the year this game is set) they were a pretty popular gimmick/tool for diners in the U.S. at least, not sure about elsewhere in the world unfortunately

Yeah he canonically brought and proceeded to wear rollerskates to work at a fancy bistro. But that also means Vince watched him show up to work one day, wearing rollerskates, and just let him do it. Just watched Rody roll around his fancy bistro attending to customers that expect the highest of professionalism, and said nothing.

#dead plate #dead plate spoilers #rody #bit of play experience #sort of #hopefully this makes sense for others reading this my thoughts still feel very jumbled up

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lovingmattysposts · 6 months

Text

Mustang

"we'd make out in your mustang to radio head"

"Never thought that one day, i'd be losing you"

pairing: y/n and matt sturniolo

summary: It was hard for you to be back in Boston, because Boston brought back memories you tried so hard to forget. You missed what you had here, you missed who you had here. And he was everywhere and you missed him so bad.

warnings: sooo much fluff but really sad, cursing, sadness, mentions of being turned on?? but thats the only suggestive part

i wrote this literally based on my life because I drive a mustang and love matthew sturniolo so I hope you love it too

xoxo, Autumn

I sighed as I dropped my bag into my old room, before collapsing into the bed.

I hated being home from college, but I also didn't it was a weird divide between my brain. It's filled with great memories, but also sad ones.

It just mainly make me think of the triplets, well mainly Matt. We were all really close in high school, but once I went of to college in MaryLand and they moved to L.A we drifted apart. Well that wasn't the first time.

We started to drift apart when Matt and I broke up. Neither of us took the break up well at all. We were both miserable. Obviously Nick and Chris, wanted to be their for their brother so they weren't there for me as much as I would hope.

Which now looking back it was a absolute insane thing to get angry over, it's their brother, they were going to support him no matter what. But i was young and I was hurt so I took my emotions from the breakup and pushed it on Nick and Chris for not being there for me.

The breakup was mutual, and not in the oh-he-broke-up-with-me-and-im-too-embarrassed-to-admit-it "mutual breakup". No, it was genuinally mutual. We both were in love deeply with one another and neither of us wanted to breakup at all.

One stupid fight over how we were going to work coast-to-coast and that was it. It was weird really. A really weird feeling when one minute you're in love and the next minute one stupid fight and it makes everything change.

We were just two scared teenagers who were too prideful to admit they were scared to lose one another to life. Living without Matt was a hard thing to grasp, because I never thought there would be a time where we weren't together.

I guess I got over it or at least tried to when I went off to college. I went on dates, kissed a few boys, even hooked up with one. But there was always a voice in the back of my head screaming "they aren't Matt"

It was weird kind of breakup. After the final goodbye that night, we never spoke again. Even living in the same city for three months after that until I went of to college and he moved to LA, we didn't speak once. And we hadn't in three years.

I forced myself not to check what he was doing, literally throwing my phone across my dorm room, just so I wouldn't check. It was hard since his entire life was online. Mine wasn't. It was easy for him to forget. It wasn't for me.

It really is hard to remember what their lips feel like when you kiss them for the last time and don't even know it.

Even three years after the breakup, every time I come to Boston I think of him. There were picture of him and I still plastered on my photo wall in my bedroom, I still haven't gotten the courage to take them down. I still had one of his shirts that was tucked away in my "stay home clothes" and I haven't taken it out since.

I especially think of him when I'm driving around in my Mustang. Since I didn't register it to my college, I left it at home along with all of the memories inside of it that I think of every time I get behind the wheel of that damn Mustang.

I just needed to go on a drive. To clear my head and to get my mind off my high school boyfriend. I stood up walking out of my brother and mumbling a quick bye to my parents and walking outside to the cold air.

I took my keys out of my sweatshirt and unlocked the car, pulling on the handle but pausing as I felt a memory wash over me.

"Matt" I giggled trying to push him off of me. He smiled against my neck and attempted to pin my arms down. "Whattt?" He smiled as his lips attached to my neck and then up to my face, kissing me softly.

I put my hands on his face as we kissed slowly, before pushing him back slightly. He was fully leaned over the entire middle consul, on top of me.

"Matt we have to go inside" I smiled looking at my boyfriend as he smiled stupidly at me, looking only down at my lips as I spoke. "Hmm hm" He hummed finally looking up at my eyes, his eyelids hooded. I don't know if it was from how early it was or from the kiss.

"Did you hear a word I said?" I giggled. He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me against him. "Nope" He smiled against my lips catching mine in a kiss again. I smiled as we kissed, as if it were the first time we had ever kissed. Butterflies filling my stomach as he rubbed his thumb back and forth against me, as we kissed.

I knew really believed in love before I met Matthew Sturniolo. I thought the books were stupid, the movies were unrealistic, and the couples in love around us were just going to end up hurt or cheated on. Because that was all I had ever known, that was before a blue eyes lacrosse player passed me in the hallway and we made eye-contact for a little too long.

I never believed in love at first sight either until that day. I thought it was cheesy, and terribly inaccurate, but something inside of me told me that boy would be in my life for a longgg time.

He pulled away from the kiss and brought his hands up to my face, rubbing his thumbs back and forth against my cheeks smiling down at me in adoration.

I never saw myself as a romantic either. Kind of kept to myself, was sarcastic and thought I would die before talking to a man in a baby voice, and a part of me thinks everyone thinks that way before they find their first love. Well in this case, the love of my life. There wouldn't be a minute for the rest of my life where I didn't love Matt.

"I love you" He whispered, leaning down and kissing my nose, making me giggle. He sighed leaning down against my shoulder and running his hand over my steering wheel. "And I love your car" he sighed, making me roll my eyes. "Sometimes I feel like you only like me for my car" I joked making him lift his head and furrow his eyebrows.

"What no, you're the love of my life. The car is just a plus to dating you" He said shaking his head. It was embarrassing the effect his words had on my physical being. I blushed, making him smile.

"I like when I make you blush" He smiled leaning down and kissing me again. The other plus to dating Matt, other than simply everything about him, was his lips. Oh my God, his lips. They were perfect and boy did that boy know how to kiss.

I honestly didn't know kissing someone was suppose to be enjoyable before kissing him. I could fall asleep kissing him. If my lips could be on his ever second of everyday, they would be. He quite literally changed my world.

He slipped his tongue into my mouth, making me hum against him deepening the kiss. He smiled as he kissed me harder. There was a hard knock against my window, causing Matt to jump off of me, due to the loud noise. He looked behind me, since my back was against the door. He sighed and sat back in the passenger seat.

I turned around seeing his brothers standing next to my car. I rolled down the window and they both leaned down poking their heads into the car.

"Jesus do you two ever come up for air?" Chris said looking between us making me smile and look down at my lap. "Seriously the whole school yard just saw you two suffocating each other with your mouths" Nick shook his head. Matt laughed and shook his head, looking over at me.

"I'm getting your windows tinted for Christmas" He said shaking his head. I rolled my eyes and turned back to Nick and Chris. "Do you guys need something?" I asked looking between two of my best friends. "Yeah dumbass, School's about to start" Chris said motioning to everyone walking inside.

"But it's coldd outside, and it's so warm in here" I sighed, leaning towards Matt. Matt pouted looking at his brothers and wrapped his arms around me.

"If you miss another class, you're benched at the next game Matthew" his brother said unimpressed. Matt sighed letting me go. I leaned back up in my seat.

I looked over to Matt who looked at me and then to his brothers. "Yeah yeah, just give us a minute" He said leaning over and starting to roll up the window, making me shake my head.

"You two are gross!" Nick yelled as he walked away. "Her lips will still be there after first period Matt!" Chris yelled as the window close. I laughed and shook my head, before Matt turned my head capturing my lips in his again. I fell into the kiss again so easily before pushing him slightly.

"Matt, we have to go. I can't miss first period again" I sighed as I looked into his blue eyes. He closed his eyes and sighed. "Fine" He breathed leaning back over, grabbing his bag off the floor in front of me. I giggled at his frustrated demeanour.

"Wait" I smiled making him look up as I reached over grabbing his shirt connecting our lips again. He smiled against me as he dropped his bag again, bringing his hand up to cup my face again. I pulled away as he kissed me deeper.

"Okay, Okay, we have to go" I said shaking my head, trying to shake the redness in my face. I turned off the car and grabbed my keys.

"Wait, we have to wait a second" He breathed making me glance over at him as he groaned leaning his head back against the chair, attempting to adjust his shorts. I looked down noticing the tent in his pants.

I rolled my eyes. "Seriously?" I said raising my eyebrows. He glanced over at me, smirking. "I can't help what you do to be y/n" he laughed. I shook my head smiling and looked out the window.

He was going to be the death of me.

I shook my head, dropping my smile at the memory and climbed into my car, turning it on and immediatley turning on the heat to wipe away the goosebumps on my legs.

I sighed as I pulled out of my house and pulled out onto the road. Clear my head. Just clear my head. But everything about this car screamed Matt.

I looked over at the empty passenger seat and sighed. Physically seeing Matt there in my mind, but he wasn't. He was thousands of miles away not thinking about me.

As i drove around my empty town, playing song after song trying to make myself feel better, made it worse. I felt pathetic. Thinking about my ex-boyfriend of three years ago, wasn't good. Why was I still thinking about him.

I tried to convince myself it was just because I was here in Boston, in this car, but another part of my brain reminded me that I promised to him and to myself that I would always love him. I hated myself because I stuck to my word. That's why I didn't reach out after the breakup, because I said that if was better if we both just tried to move on. That we had to move on and we wouldn't if we were still in contact.

It's when he agreed to it was when the reality of my words set into me like a ton of bricks. The amount of times I wanted to show up at his front door step, telling him I was wrong. That I couldn't live without him. That we were stupid for ever thinking our breakup was what we both needed. But I never did, and he never showed up at my door either.

I guess a part of me moved on, or maybe my brain just convinced me that I did. I don't feel like I did, because there was never another Matt. All these boys i've met, it was hard to even picture them to be the same species as Matthew Sturniolo, because they were cold, hard, mean, assholes. Matt was sweet, kind, loving, and tender hearted. To put them in the same category as him would just be an insult to Matt.

So I waited until someone like Matthew Sturniolo came along. I've waited three years and I've not met one other soul like him. It wasn't fair.

I sighed. I needed to go home, take a hot shower, and stop torturing myself. I pulled around, driving back towards my house, trying to erase every single thing i've thought about on this long miserable drive. Once I stepped out of this car, I wasn't going to think about him again.

I was going to turn off this car and open the door and leave all my feelings and hopes for Matt inside of it because It wasn't fair to myself. I needed to let go.

I turned into my neighborhood and pulled up to my driveway, driving in. I parked the car and took a deep breathe, rubbing my hands over my face. I sighed, turning off the car and opening the door.

If it was meant to be it will be, at least that's what the poets say. But then again aren't all poets just people writing about what they think love is? Not the actual reality of it? They don't write about the breakups or the hard times, they talk about the falling. The feeling of being in love. Something so strong it could kill a person, that part I guess now I believed to be true. So maybe all poets are idiots.

I swallowed shaking my thoughts before opening my door and stepping out before looking back inside, and taking a deep breath closing my eyes before I shut it finally.

That was it. Now those were just memories. That's all they can be and thats all i'll allow them to be. From here on out I wasn't going to tourtue myself. From here on out not one more thought would cross my brain thinking about-

I froze.

"Matt?"

Standing there.

Right there.

In front of me.

My feet froze.

He stood tall in front of me, black hoodie, black pants and small scruff lining his jawline. His eyes as blue as ever and his hair still as floppy as I remembered, just a little longer. I blinked, frozen in time. My heart was beating so fast I thought I would have collaspted right then and there.

"Y/n" He spoke finally. My lips parted slightly as I stood in front of the boy that I loved all those years ago. The boy I just spent the last hour killing my mind over.

He licked his lips looking down at me with an expression I couldn't understand. "W-What are you doing here?" I breathed, barley blinking staring up at him. He let out a breath as he looked at me pulling his hands out of the pockets of his sweatshirt.

"I-I was in town and I-" I stopped as he looked down at me. I stared up at him waiting for his explanation. "I don't know I just kind of came over here. I didn't really have a plan. I don't know what to say, but I just started walking and I ended up here" He breathed, seeing his breath come out in a vapor in the coldness of the air around us. Making it real. He was there.

I blinked at him. I opened my mouth to say something but closed it, not knowing what to say. I honestly wanted to look up at the sky and wish for a million dollars and see if that would come walking up to my house too. But no. This was more of a shock than if that happened.

"I know-" He shook his head. "I know this is probably a lot for you, and I can leave if you don't want to see me and I know that showing up here after three years is so shitty so I understand if-" He spoke but I cut him off stepping forward and wrapping my arms around his torso, leaning my head against his chest, holding him tightly. This was real.

I let out a breath for what felt like the first time in three years. He paused for a second, suprized from the sudden embrace, before wrapping his arms around me just as tightly, leaning his head against the top of mine. I closed my eyes thinking If i ever let go he would dissapear and I would wake up from my dream.

"Matt" I breathed again. He let out a deep breath. "Y/n" He stated again. We sat there for a long time, just holding each other like speaking three years worth of words, without actually talking.

I pulled back looking up at him. He smiled down at me, tears in his eyes and tears in mine.

"How's LA?" I smiled, my eyes full of tears. He chuckled hanging his head breifly before looking back up at me. "It's not Boston" He shook his head. I chuckled, wiping the bottom of my eyes. I nodded just smiling up at him.

"I missed you" He shook his head, biting his lips as it quivered due to the tears threatening to spill. I shook my head looking down as I let out a breath. I leaned up wiping his tears with my thumb.

"I missed you sweet boy" I whispered as a tear ran down my face. He reached up, wiping it. I swallowed.

"Do you have a boyfriend?" He whispered smiling through his tears. I laughed handing my head before shaking it. He smiled. "Thank God" He breathed before leaning down and kissing me passionatly. I smiled as we kissed, tasting the tears between us.

He reached down wrapping his hands under my waist pulling our bodies together as I held his face in my hands. I couldn't believe this was real. His lips were exactly how I remembered, as If not a single day had passed between us.

I pulled back, but didn't move away from him, as I looked into his eyes, soothing his cheek.

"I miss you too" I breathed, he smiled. I laughed through my tears, leaning my head against his chest. He wrapped his arms tighter around me and we sat there.

All of the sudden a car came racing up to my house, before slamming on the breaks. I looked up at Matt, who sighed closing his eyes. I turned as I heard the slamming of car doors.

Nick and Chris emerged from the car before sighing when they saw us. Matt's grip didn't loosen on me, like if he let go he'd be afraid I would run away. Little did he know I wasn't moving away from him even if he pushed me off of him.

"Matt you scared the shit out of us" Chris shook his head as he walked up to us. I looked up at Matt, who didn't look fazed by his brothers whatsoever. I looked back seeing Nick coming around the otherside of the car.

"Thank God you're okay" Chris said making it up to us. Nick walked over. "You can't just take off and not tell us where you're going without your phone" Nick shook his head.

"Guys i'm fine" Matt reassured them. He looked down at me. "I'm better than fine" He whispered looking down at me in his arms. I smiled up at him.

"We thought you'd be here" Nick sighed looking over at us. I smiled looking over at Nick and Chris. They looked like them, but older. Kind of like Matt. Chris's hair was longer and Nick was blonde.

I smiled leaning my head against Matt, both of our arms still wrapped in one another. Nick sighed shaking his head.

"Alright, you guys will still be alive when you let go. Now y/n come over here and give me a hug" Nick smiled. I looked up at Matt smiling before finally dropping my arms and walking over to Nick, hugging him. He sighed against me.

"Missed you" He mumbled. "I miss you guys so much" I said looking over to Chris before opening my arms in offer for him to join the hug. He rolled his eyes smiling before joining Nick and I.

"Missed you kid" He mumbled squeezing us.

"Alright. Alright, get off her" Matt said walking up to us, before pulling me against him again. I laughed and shook my head at him. Still now, he only wanted me to himself and I could have melted.

"Will you come home now? Mom hasn't seen you yet" Chris shook his head. Matt let out a breath before looking down at me. I smiled up at him.

"Yeah, but there's something we have to do first" He explained looking up at his brothers. I furrowed my eyebrows looking at Matt. He looked towards the car.

"Can we go for a drive?"

I looked over at my mustang before smiling up at him. "Please?" I said letting out a breath. He smiled, leaning down and kissing my forehead. He grabbed my hand as he pulled me towards the car.

WOW I LITERALLY CRIED MULTIPLE TIMES WHILE WRITING THIS. hope you guys did too🥹

tag list: @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @miastromboli @secret-sturniolo @sturnsclutter @sturniolodreamz @ejswift @paper-crab @mwah0mwah @ghostgurlswrld @kitaysworld @meg-sturniolo @nickmillersn1gf @fr3shl0ve @adrianaturnedpretty @jjslovely

#chris sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #Spotify

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denwritesandcries · 1 month

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Hug me Tighter – Sam Carpenter

Pairing: sam carpenter x fem!reader

Summary: You’re only trying to make your girlfriend take a nap with you, the fact that it’s in a hospital bed after one of the worst nights of your lives doesn't really matter.

Word count: 1,8k.

Content: post-scream VI, cursing, tooth-pudding fluff, mentions of violence, cuddling, pet names, long dialogues, REALLY soft gfs.

A/N: Damn, this might be the sweetest and cheesy thing I’ve ever written. Could also be an AU, since Anika is alive, or just Scream, if they could actually be happy.

English is not my first language.

You realized that you were waking up at a terribly slow pace, as if everything was suddenly in slow motion and even the smallest movement took hours to run and every second was longer than the previous one. Your body feels heavy and comfortably warm, resting on perhaps the best bed in which you've ever slept. You blinked slowly, failing to keep your eyes open, every movement of your eyelids almost making you fall into unconsciousness again.

Your body shudders with the feeling of a long yawn crossing you and you turn your head to bury your face back in the location and go to sleep again, only to be surprised when you come across hot skin instead of what your brain thought was a really soft pillow. It is only then that you register a movement against your back, light and constant, almost as smooth as your own sleepy state, climbing and descending your spine and enveloping you even more in this security bubble almost supernaturally.

Another weight lies between your neck and your head, right at the point of your wrist and there's another heavier resting on the top of your head, although you're sure of the mess your hair should be right now. Your hands grope and instinctively grab a handful of familiar fabric beneath you, feeling the texture of a sweater you knew very well.

“Sam,” your hoarse voice breaks the silence.

You were tempted to let the darkness and the inviting fog of sleep consume you again as you relaxed and held another yawn, but your resting place vibrated with a low laugh.

“‘M sorry, baby. Did I wake you?”

“Nah,” you denied with a satisfied sigh, sinking against her body.

The chin on your head pulled away and the hand on your back stopped and you immediately missed the contact, finally opening your eyes and lifting your head to protest.

“You're feeling better?”

Sam's question catches you off guard and you pause, staring into your girlfriend's soft brown eyes and raised eyebrow with confusion. Frowning, you finally decide to take a look at the place you are in and come across a messy white room with machines nearby. A hospital room.

The events of the last few hours come back to you in a quick, jumbled flash. The confrontation with the Ghostfaces, the deaths, the police, the ambulance... and the surgery, because of course in addition to all the terror and threats of the last few days you also ended up being stabbed.

Well, that explains why you feel so sluggish then. You're high on drugs. That is, if the IV prick in your arm is any indication.

The hand on the back of your neck moves up towards your face, fingers tracing the contour of your chin and jaw, thumb rubbing soft circles on your cheek, your body relaxes and you lean into her touch, sighing all too contentedly at the affection. The memory of waking up a lot more groggy before and convincing Sam to lay down too when you found her sitting next to the hospital bed holding your hand tightly slowly returning to your hazy mind. She was a little hesitant at first, but it wasn't that difficult to convince her to hold you with the excuse that it would only be for a few minutes. You bet it must have been a few hours already.

“Hm,” you murmured absently, stretching against her, “I’m definitely feeling much better now.”

“That's good,” your girlfriend huffed softly, “I can't feel my legs in this position anymore.”

That caught your attention.

“Am I too heavy?” You ask, lifting your head to examine her for any bruises from the previous fight, “I can move if it’s hurting you.”

“No,” She squeezes you tighter quickly, “I’m good here.”

Sam's own eyes were half-lidded, almost closing over the last few minutes you were asleep, but she refused to give in to the urge to doze off too. It would have been such a waste when she could just hug you and breathe properly for the first time since the last few hellish weeks you've all had.

The TV on the wall had long since been muted, with the image of some random animal documentary flickering in the background. Sam's head rested against the pillows and your body lay happily spread over hers – and she looked perfectly satisfied for someone who had complained and complained about your puppy dog eyes before.

Somewhere between convincing Sam to lie down and pretending to pay attention to the screen, you ended up falling asleep, one of your arms hanging lazily over the side of the bed. Sam realized this instantly, feeling your weight finally relax on her. It made her relax too. Not completely. Sam was never completely relaxed, no matter how tired she was, not anymore, especially not after a night like that. But she managed to feel good enough to enjoy the moment.

The environment was as welcoming as any hospital could be, but her embrace brought a sense of security that lulled you perfectly to sleep and the knowledge that everyone was okay and in the next room allowed Sam to let her guard down. Yet falling asleep and losing that, the feeling that nothing could happen as long as she held you tight and ran her fingers over your warm skin, seeing and hearing every sleepy sound and movement you made – from a tired sigh as you fit, to one of your hands founding the collar of her sweater and grabbing it, holding her close – it would be a waste.

“You sure?” You hesitate, searching her eyes for any hint of hidden discomfort.

Sam sighs, nodding: “You wouldn’t believe how comfortable I am right now.”

“Okay then,” you rest your ear on her chest, feeling her head nod and her heart bumping, still a little high. A yawn crosses your lips, “But let me know if you need me to move.”

She hums in response and you fall into a comfortable silence for a while, the sound of machines running and your soft breaths in the same rhythm left you trying your hardest not to fall asleep again until you felt your girlfriend's chest vibrate beneath you again in a barely contained laugh.

“You’re cute when you’re tired.”

“Huh?” you muttered, lifting your drooping head and finally refocusing your vision on her.

“I should probably get up now, let you get some rest.” Sam said, reluctantly removing her arms from you so she could move away.

You shook your head, grabbing one of her hands and letting them fall to the side of the bed, swinging freely in the air.

“No, I’m good here.” You echoed, denying nonchalantly. You let your head find a place on her neck, making her lie back against the pillows.

Sam sighed against you slowly, much more out of satisfaction – and relief – than annoyance at your insistence, returning to the task of running her fingers down your back until you spoke again.

“Where’s Tara?” You ask, voice muffled by the face buried in her neck, “And the twins?”

“They're watching Anika.” She responds and you get alarmed, before Sam reassures you, “She's gonna be alright, she just needs to stay in the hospital for a while longer. And also a lot of rest. Like you, by the way.”

“I am resting.”

If Sam hadn't been fighting sleep for over an hour now, she would have a wide, stupid grin plastered on her face at the sound of your indignant mumble. Since that wasn't the case, she contented herself with a small smile.

“Whatever you say, amor.”

She surrenders, completely this time, without any more false attempts to leave. Sam felt as if you were the one rocking her and not the other way around, as if nothing else could touch her, even for a little while. There were no worries about horrible jobs, breakdowns in therapy, pressure with college exams and much less paranoia about the existence of cinematic serial killers. Nothing else could exist in your – literal – white room. Just the two of you in that small bed.

Each synchronized breath of your chest next to hers pressed her own ribs, the delicate breath sending delicious shivers down her spine and making her completely aware of how close your bodies were and shocking her at how it still didn't feel close enough.

“I love you,” she says. Rasped, you barely hear it. “I love you so freaking much that sometimes I just want to drown into your chest and curl up between your ribs, with your heart.” She takes a breath, then pauses, hesitantly: “...Is that too weird?”

“...Well,” you gasp, heart completely racing against your ears, “No weirder than what we already go through on a daily basis, I guess.”

Sam groaned at your response, feeling like a lovesick teenager in one of the movies Tara and Mindy love to make fun of. Rambling poetically about her passion.

But, screw it, that's exactly what she is, right? Sam thought. Let her have it. She deserves it.

(Her therapist would definitely pat her on the back for that thought.)

Unlike what Sam thought she should feel with the realization of that thought, her heart didn't skip a beat uncomfortably, her hands didn't get sweaty and cold with the doubt of how to deal with this. It kept pounding in that same slow, steady, familiar rhythm, with one of the most precious and loved people of her life completely aware of how she felt.

“I feel like drowning into your chest all the time too.”

Her favorite place in the world was anywhere you were together and it was physically impossible to be closer than that at the moment, although she wouldn't give up trying.

It was pure and simple happiness. Warmth and security that captured her stomach and left it churning with what felt like a million bubbles popping simultaneously.

When you first came to her life and Sam realized being falling for you, she thought her love would swallow her. That it would be something she would keep to herself until it exploded. You seemed to have made it your mission to prove her otherwise.

“I didn’t say ‘all the time’ tho.”

Here you were, together and fine.

“Oh, shut up.”

Your grip on Sam's hand tightened in very bad feigned irritation and when you rose quickly to give her a kiss, your girlfriend burst into laughter and your lips hit her strong jaw instead.

“That tickles, baby.”

“I was shooting for your lips, but you moved.” You simply shrugged, leaning into her again and this time she met you on the way, a stupid smile growing between you and breaking the kiss too soon. You lay back down and Sam took a long breath, leaving one last kiss on your forehead.

This time, when her head feels heavy and droops from sleep, Sam does nothing to stop it, letting the feeling finally consume her.

Nothing, not even in her most vivid fantasies, had ever been so perfect.

And if by chance Tara ends up sending Sam a photo of the two of you napping the next day when everyone is getting ready to go home and it becomes the new wallpaper on her phone, well… that's nobody's business.

#sam carpenter x reader #sam carpenter imagine #scream x reader #sam carpenter x y/n #sam carpenter #scream 6 #scream vi #melissa barrera x reader #melissa barrera #sam carpenter x you #wlw #denwrites

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bg-brainrot · 4 days

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To Be Known (Astarion x GN!Tav)

Featuring: Astarion x Rogue!Tav

Series: Fits into Love at First Knife, AO3 link here

Summary: Astarion reads a book and wonders what it means to be known.

Tags: Astarion's POV, POV Second Person, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Fluff, Comfort, Vampire Spawn Astarion, set in Act 3 but pre-Cazador, Astarion is Bad at Feelings,

A/N: Disclaimer up top: I'm not abandoning any of my other fic! Promise! Just trying to get over a tough month and get back into the swing of things :'D

Also, based on the quote: “To be loved but not known is comforting but superficial. To be known and not loved is our greatest fear. But to be fully known and truly loved is like being loved by God.” (disclaimer: I’m not religious, and I know this quote comes in a few different forms, but google told me about this version so I stuck to it.)

Word count: ~2.1k

“To be fully known and truly loved is as if you are loved by the gods,” Astarion reads aloud, to no one in particular.

A silence follows, wherein his mind repeats the words he’s just read, absorbing none of them. To be fully known and truly loved… The words don’t seem to stick.

Finally deciding that the sentence isn’t worth his effort, he tosses the book onto his bedroll with a groan. “What rubbish.”

Outside of this author's haughty approach to prose, Astarion doesn’t particularly care to think too deeply about what it means to be loved– especially by any godsforsaken deities.

He has only just come around to the idea of love, not that he’s said the word ‘love’ to you just yet. It felt too much, too heavy a word to carry considering all of the other burdens the two of you bore between you. But the idea of it? Well, he was warming up to it. And with every moment shared between you, he believes he may be warming up all the more.

But what does being known have to do with love? No, that concept has him pulling his brows together, getting up from his bedroll and putting distance between himself and the drivel that Gale had recommended to him.

That’s what I get for listening to the damned wizard’s tastes, he thinks, shaking his head slightly. Some philosophical prattle, just as verbose as he is.

But even as he stands, brushes himself off, shoves the book away to the furthest corner of his tent before he makes to leave, the question of being known never escapes him.

What does it even mean to be known? he wonders, now lost in thought as he emerges from his tent. How could anyone know me, after all I’ve been through… do I even know who I am anymore?

The idea hangs over him, trails him like a storm cloud as he begins stalking about the camp you’ve all set up in the outskirts of Rivington. He’s not sure where his feet are leading him other than away– away from the distasteful book, away from away from your knowing gaze, which would only pry his thoughts out of him.

Much to Astarion’s disappointment, the trail he takes doesn’t stop the winding path his thoughts have taken.

Have I ever been known? he wonders, vaguely registering the breeze in his hair and the distant sounds of running water as he travels further and further from camp.

Perhaps I was once upon a time, but I could hardly be expected to remember now, could I? The thought is bitter and unwelcome, though likely true. He brusquely swats a branch out of his way and continues into a bramble unrepentantly. Gods, how can he bring himself to care about something as trifling as nature when he’s quite busily lost in thought right now, thank-you-very-much.

Astarion releases a sigh as he finally fights his way into a copse of trees. Secluded, finally.

Alone.

With his thoughts.

Which won’t seem to quiet despite the soft chittering of small animals, nor the sickly sweet smell of flowers in the air.

Why are some pitiful poet’s ‘words of wisdom’ even bothering me? he thinks as he lowers himself onto the trunk of a fallen tree. What’s even the use in being known?

Astarion crosses his legs in front of him, watching with narrowed eyes as his boots press into the soft grass, crushing it easily. There is no use to being known, he decides as he presses harder with one foot and the grass is further flattened. To wish that is…

His foot twists down even more firmly.

Pathetic, Astarion thinks, lifting his boot back up to see his handiwork. The grass lies flat, thoroughly smashed by him. This world is simply about being the one who tramples, and not the one being trampled.

That thought oddly comforts him. He knows the push and pull of power well enough– this dynamic is second nature to him. Like an old, threadbare blanket, it wraps around his shoulders, providing no warmth, but plenty of familiar reassurance.

It’s moments later that the blanket is wrenched from him and he’s laid bare once more, under the startling sunlight of your attention.

“Astarion?”

Your voice pierces through his thoughts, and his instinctual answering emotions are new to him. Surprise. Elation. Relief.

The vampire had been utterly unprepared to hear your voice, convinced he’d found a spot away from you all. Convinced that you wouldn’t be here with your thoughtful gaze– not now, while he’s still busy sorting through a myriad of questions. But he still can’t deny the way he welcomes your presence.

He suspects that your perceptive gaze can easily catch that, despite the way his shoulder’s tense and the way his head turns away, his ears still tilt back toward you, ready for your next words.

“Astarion, there you are,” you say. He hears the same emotions he feels in your voice. How odd it feels to be mirrored by you. He can’t deny enjoying that either. “What’s the matter? When I couldn’t find you around camp, I thought the worst might have happened."

The man scoffs, trying his best to sound unaffected by your sudden arrival, refusing to meet your inquiring gaze. “And what, pray tell, did you assume could have happened?”

“We’re practically at the Gate, Astarion. Anything could have happened. Need I remind you what happened to Dribbles?” you respond, voice tight with worry.

Ah yes. The dead clown. “It will take more than a shapeshifter to take me out, darling,” he retorts, still refusing to turn toward you, now dutifully inspecting his nails.

You let out a small huff of disapproval. “And what about Cazador?”

“I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself,” Astarion replies, though the thought of being caught unawares by Cazador bristles at him. If he did get caught, it would be entirely Gale’s fault for lending him that book… He shakes his head of white curls and continues, “Besides, I barely got more than a few dozen yards away before you came chasing after me. I could hardly be in any real danger.”

When you sigh, he finally turns to face you. The expression you give him then isn’t frustration, nor anger– it’s an unusual mixture of worry and… joy? “I couldn’t help but chase. Would it be pathetic to say that I miss you when you’re gone for too long?” you respond.

He’s not sure he has an answer to that.

Especially when he feels pathetic for how light his undead heart feels at the statement.

Astarion drops his head, avoiding your gaze, and hoping you don’t catch the startled happiness on his face.

When it’s clear he doesn’t have a response for you, you change the subject as you close the distance between you, “So, what brought you out here?”

“Nothing,” he replies, too easily. You know it’s a lie. He knows that you know it.

“Nothing, eh?” you ask, finding a seat next to him on the fallen tree. “What about that nothing has you running into the woods?”

“I was not running,” he defends, with a click of his tongue. “I was taking a brisk stroll.”

“Fine then,” you relent, elbowing his arm gently. “What about it led to a ‘brisk stroll’?”

There’s no use hiding from them, is there? he thinks, leaning back on the trunk. “I’ll tell you,” he begins, staring out into a bush. “But only if you answer a question for me.”

“Anything,” you say, and he can feel your shrug on his arm.

“Who am I, really?”

You still. Astarion had expected no less. After all, it’s not an easy question to answer– even for him. He’s putting quite a lot of undue pressure onto you with the question, it’s selfish really… but he can’t help but want to be selfish around you.

So he lets the question settle into the silence.

When you finally speak, your voice is crisp in the muted sounds of the clearing. “Promise you won’t care for me any less after I answer you?”

Astarion snaps his head back at you, his mouth turning down in a frown. “Well that depends, my dear. What are you planning to say?”

“Promise?” you press.

As if he could care any less for you– he would have done so already if he could. “I promise,” he murmurs reluctantly. “Now, please, the suspense is really too much.”

“You are Astarion,” you start, reaching out for his hand. He cautiously places his in yours, unable to hide the twitch of a smile as your warm fingers lock with his. “You’re a beautiful, elven vampire, with silver hair, and red eyes. You’re talented, witty, and…”

Your voice trails off, and Astarion can’t help but wonder why you’d been so hesitant to answer. So far, he is loving this answer.

“And you’re an absolute arse at times.”

“Excuse me?” he gasps, moving to pull his hand out of yours.

You don’t release it, but you do continue, “You laugh at the misfortune of others, you steal, you lie, you cheat at games, you can be incredibly selfish.”

“Darling, are we certain you care about me after all this?” he grumbles, giving up on fighting your grip on him as your words wash over him. He knows all of this, of course, has been entirely unashamed of it all before… but it feels different when you say it. When you lay it out plainly before him.

“Yes,” you answer quickly, tugging on his hand gently. “Because all of that makes you you. And, personally, I wouldn’t have you any other way.”

He blinks at you, confused on how you arrived at this conclusion.

“You are so unabashedly you, love. And I adore that. I know it might not feel like it after all you’ve been through… but you are still yourself. No one has been able to take that from you.”

Now Astarion stares at your intertwined hands, wondering if he deserves such impassioned, absurd words said in his defense. His voice comes quietly when he asks his next questions, “And how do I know that’s who I have always been? Who I was meant to be?”

You bring his hand up to your lips, pressing a soft, warm kiss before you continue, “Astarion, I don’t know what might have bothered you, but I want you to know that, no matter what it was, you’re amazing as the man you are. Whoever you were, whoever you think you were meant to be, you should be proud of who you are now. And… once we deal with Cazador, I hope you have the chance to rediscover that man.”

Astarion hadn’t meant this to be some kind of journey of self-discovery– really, he’d only been irked by the needless philosophy of the book Gale had lent him. But, hearing you say those words, it feels as if some weight has been lifted from his shoulders.

Worry, he realizes. Of losing who he was, of course, but also of being utterly, desolately unknown. Naturally he needn’t have worried because here you are, ready and willing to understand him. To accept and care for him, even while knowing him, flaws and all.

Maybe being known wasn’t such a burden. Not if it were by you.

“Yes, well,” he begins, suddenly unsure what to say to your earnest words. “Thank you for that, I think. Though, really, I could have done without all of the barbs. It feels like I've been struck by psychic damage.” Astarion gives a dramatic head loll, averting his flustered face.

You laugh and squeeze his hand. “Well, it’s a good thing I have no clue how to deal psychic damage, but I’ll be sure to get Gale right over if you need a good jostle to the brain.”

Gale’s done enough of that, Astarion thinks. But he doesn’t say so to you. Instead, the man simply shakes his head. “I’m quite alright. Speaking of the rest of those fools, they’ve likely begun to burn the camp down without us. Shall we head back?”

While the trek to the clearing had been filled with spiraling thoughts and matters of the self, Astarion finds that the journey back is filled with far more soft touches and kisses– Not that he minds.

In fact, he thinks with a smile, as you both walk together, practically falling into each others’ arms. Maybe this was who I was meant to be all along.

That night, once he’s settled back into his tent for bed, Astarion reads the passage once more, “To be fully known and truly loved is as if you are loved by the gods.”

Astarion is certainly no closer to believing in the gods’ willingness or ability to love him, but he could hardly care. No, he suspects that he knows what a god’s love is– after all, if you truly love him, fangs, scars, and all… well, that may very well be divine.

#astarion #astarion x tav #fanfic #astarion fic #astarion x reader #rogue + rogue #astarion fanfiction #astarion fanfic #astarion fluff #astarion x gn reader #astarion x gn!tav #baldurs gate astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion is bad at feelings #astarion comfort #spawn astarion #astarion pov

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sunshinepanic · 10 days

Text

Unexpected 4

Pairing: Rafe Cameron X Reader

Summary: Some unexpected visitors interrupt your morning after with Rafe.

Chapter Warning: angst, fluff, protective Rafe, Protective John B

Not beta read we die like men

WC: 1,954

OBX Masterlist - Series Masterlist

When you started to wake up, it took you a minute to register where you were. The smell of Rafe hit you as you buried your face in the pillow, not wanting to face reality quite yet, but the events of last night flooded your mind, bringing you to full alertness. You sat up, noticing Rafe was no longer in bed beside you. You jumped up and grabbed the first thing you could find, which happened to be Rafe’s T-shirt and your panties and went to find him.

As you made your way down the stairs and towards the kitchen, you heard voices, causing you to pause. You could hear Rafe talking as you slowly approached the kitchen being careful not to make any noise until you could see who he was with. Topper and Kelce were standing in the kitchen, with Rafe bitching about how he blew them off last night. Rafe rolled his eyes and tried to shrug them off. “I had something I needed to take care of. Let it go.” Kelce shook his head. “What was so damn important that you bailed without saying a word?” Rafe shook his head, but before he could respond, Topper cut in. "Yeah, what was it? Was it actually something important, or did you run off to get your dick wet and just didn’t want to tell us?” That caused Kelce to start chuckling, but when Rafe didn’t respond and just rolled his eyes, Topper slapped the back of his hand against Kelce’s chest. “No way! You actually ditched us for a piece of ass! Who was it? I hope, whoever it was, that she was at least worth it, dude. Was it Anna again? I know she’s been trying to hop back on your dick for months.” You felt your stomach drop as the conversation went on, but your feet seemed glued to the floor. Rafe sighed. "No, it wasn’t fucking Anna! Can you just let this shit go?” Kelce laughed, “Come on, man, just tell us who it was. Here, let me guess.” When Kelce started throwing out names, Rafe just shook his head in exasperation, but when your name left Kelce’s lips, Rafe seemed to freeze up for a moment. Topper immediately noticed. “No fuckin way! You actually fucked Y/N?” Rafe visibly tensed, but Topper didn’t seem to notice and kept going while Kelce chuckled, waiting for Rafe to admit it. “Was she good? I can’t believe you actually nailed Maybank’s girl. I thought for sure she was a stuck-up bitch.” Rafe tensed with each word that left Toppers mouth, but Topper seemed to be oblivious as he kept going. “Now that you hit that, do you mind if I take a shot? She looks like she would be a freak once you get her drunk enough.” Before Topper even finished the sentence, Rafe grabbed him by the throat and slammed him against the wall. “Shut your fucking mouth! Don’t you ever talk about her like that again, or I’ll break your fucking jaw. Do you understand me?” Topper raised his hands in surrender, and as soon as Rafe released his grip on his throat, Topper and Kelce left out the back door. Rafe sighed, leaning back against the counter and wiped his hand down his face.

You finally found the ability to move from where your feet seemed to be cemented to the floor. As you moved, Rafe’s head snapped up, his eyes widening as he saw you. “How much of that did you hear?” You shrugged your shoulders. “Enough to know your friends are even bigger assholes than I originally thought.” Rafe seemed to deflate at that as he sighed. “I’m sorry you heard that. Top’s an idiot. I was just trying to get them to leave before you woke up, but obviously that didn’t happen.” Rafe reached out and grabbed your hand, linking your fingers together and pulling you into his body. You buried your face in his chest. “Thanks for shutting him up.” Rafe chuckled, causing you to look up into his eyes. "Yeah, well, he shouldn’t be talking about my girl like that anyway.” Shock was the only way to describe what you were feeling. “Your girl?” Rafe smiled down at you laughing at your reaction. “Well yeah, I don’t make a habit of giving my clothes to random people, and I definitely don’t let just anyone stay the night in my bed.” You ducked your head as heat crossed your face, and your eyes caught on the bracelet you had made wrapped around Rafe’s wrist. Butterflies erupted in your stomach as you surged up and connected your lips with Rafe’s.

You and Rafe spent the majority of the day lounging around the house and out by the pool. He was laid out on one of the sun chairs in nothing but a pair of board shorts and the sight was making your mouth water. You couldn’t keep your eyes off the ridges of his body. The man was driving you crazy, and he wasn’t even trying. The smug smirk on his face said he knew what he was doing to you, even though his eyes were closed. You wanted to wipe that smug smile off his gorgeous face, so you quietly dipped your empty glass into the pool, filling it with cool water. As quietly as you could, you tiptoed up to Rafe and dumped the cold liquid directly on his chest. Rafe’s eyes shot open, he yelped from the sudden cold as he launched out of the chair. This sent you into a fit of giggles as you immediately ran for your life. Rafe chased you into the house catching you around the waist at the base of the stairs. Swinging you around, you screamed, and uncontrollable laughter fell from your lips as he turned you around in his arms. He pressed you to his now damp, naked torso as he leaned over you and kissed you, his hands sliding up under his shirt on your body. You were so wrapped up in each other that neither of you heard the front door open or the voices coming towards you until you heard two separate voices scream, “What the fuck? Y/N! Rafe!”

Startled, you whipped around as Rafe quickly shoved you behind his body to block you from whoever was yelling, but then you made eye contact with a very traumatized Sarah and a shocked-looking John B. All at once they both started yelling. You tried to talk, but Rafe ended up yelling over everyone. “Enough! Just shut the fuck up for like 5 seconds!” Everyone abruptly stopped talking. "Clearly, we need to talk, but that can’t happen if everyone is freaking the fuck out. Go wait in the kitchen.” Sarah opened her mouth to protest, but Rafe’s glare shut her up as she grabbed John B’s hand and dragged him off towards the kitchen. Turning around, Rafe cupped your face, bringing your eyes up to meet his. His thumb swiped at the tears you didn’t even realize were falling. "Listen, I know we haven’t talked about whether you wanted to tell your friends or not, but apparently it’s too late for that. I’m here though; I’m right here with you, and I’m not going anywhere.” You nodded your head as Rafe pulled you in, placing a kiss on your forehead. You took a few moments to go up to Rafe’s room, change back into your clothes from the night before, and calm down.

Making your way into the kitchen, you steeled yourself for the inevitable argument you were sure would happen. You knew your friends wouldn’t take you being with Rafe well, but you had hoped to get the opportunity to break it to them gently. As you entered the kitchen, Sarah was yelling, and John B was almost directly in Rafe’s face. You quickly walked in and grabbed John B by the arm. “Outside now!” You drug John B away from a rather unfazed Rafe. You figured he could talk to his sister while you talked John B down. As soon as you made it out on the patio, John B ripped his arm out of your grip, causing you to turn and face him. “What the hell, Y/N? Rafe! Really? Out of everyone you could have hooked up with, it had to be Rafe.” Rolling your eyes, you sighed. “Look B I know it’s not ideal, but I really like him.” John B scoffed, “He’s a fucking asshole. How could you like him? You know what he’s like!” You snapped “You don’t know what he’s like! Ok, yes, you guys have had your run-ins in the past, but he was there for me after everything with JJ, and he has never been anything but nice to me! Can he be an asshole? Yes! But you and JJ are just as bad as he is! You can’t act like you have no fault in your shared past.” Hearing you yell at him caused John B to deflate a little, especially when you mentioned Rafe had been there for you when JJ had hurt you. He knew how badly you had been hurt, but he didn’t realize that Rafe was one of the reasons you seemed to be doing better. John B grabbed your hand and pulled you into a bone-crushing hug. “I’m sorry, Y/N/N. I don’t like it, but if he really does make you happy, then I guess I can try to get used to it. But you are going to have to tell the rest of the guys.” You winced at the idea of having to tell the others; knowing them, they would more than likely freak out, just like John B and Sarah had, especially JJ. “I know. I’ll talk to them. Just in my own time.” Shaking his head, he sighed. “Just….really? Rafe? Out of everyone on the island, you went for Rafe Cameron.” Laughing at his dramatics, you punched him in the arm. "Yeah, well, what can I say? The Cameron’s are hot. I mean, you did dip your stick in the Cameron pond first.” John B busted out laughing and shaking his head at your response as you went to head back inside.

You and John B made your way back into the kitchen, where Sarah and Rafe were watching you through the glass doors. John B immediately walked over to Rafe and poked a finger in his chest. “If you hurt her, I will feed your ass to the gators.” Rafe smirked at John B’s attempt at giving him a shovel talk. “Noted.” You rolled your eyes at the two of them. “I'm going to go grab my board really quick and catch a ride home with them. I have a shift tomorrow morning anyway.” As you left the kitchen, you heard Sarah talking to Rafe. “So you actually give a shit about her? This isn’t just some sick joke to you.” Rafe scoffed "Yes, I genuinely care about her, ok? Now fuck off with it. I’ve been properly interrogated and threatened.” As you made your way downstairs, you went out the front door and headed towards the twinkie, where John B and Sarah were waiting for you. You called out a quick goodbye to Rafe, but as you went to walk past him in the driveway, Rafe snatched your arm, pulling you back into a bruising kiss. You could hear John B and Sarah making exaggerated gagging noises, causing you to chuckle and pull away from your boyfriend. You couldn’t wipe the smile from your face as you promised to text him later. You crawled into the twinkie feeling optimistic, and headed towards home.

Tags: @starkeys-world @nnarellia @iluvanakinskywalker @maybankslover @hazzarules @my-fabulousness-has-arrived @fishingirl12 @redhead1180 @esquivelbianca @theoraekenslover @the-sylver-dragon @rubixgsworld @ijustwanttoreadlols

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cry4tzu · 16 days

Text

Focus on me, not the damn exam

Minatozaki sana x female reader

synopsis-i wanted her attention, and i got it .

Warning-smut!!, mention of mommy, and slut

A/N- first attempt at smut so it a little short so bare with me.

The air was heavy with the scent of dust and old books as Sana hunched over her desk in her dorm , her hair falling over her face as she pored over notes and textbooks. Her heart raced and her palms sweat, but not from nervousness; it was excitement, anticipation. She was inches away from triumph, from proving herself to the world. No, not the world, just her professor. Just this stupid, stupid exam.

She glanced at the clock, willing the hands to move faster. Just a few more hours and she'd be free to enjoy the fruits of her labor. Or so she thought. There was a small shape, barely noticeable at first of someone right beside her.When she focused her attention on it, she realized it was her girlfriend, Y/N, trying to get her attention. But she couldn't. Not now. She had to focus.

"Sana," Y/N whispered, her voice husky with desire. "Babe, I need you to pay attention to me."

Sana sighed, already for the 50th time . "I can't, Y/N," she murmured, her voice strained. "I have an exam tomorrow, I need to study."

“You have been studying for the past hours my love, you should take a break” y/n said whining to the fact that her girlfriend attention was on something else other than her.

“Well, this exam is very important so if you can let me study for two more hours then i promise you will get my attention baby ” she said going back to focus her attention on the papers she need to read over.

With a sigh of defeat, y/n gave up on trying to get Sana's attention the conventional way. She knelt down on the floor, slipped her long, slender legs underneath Sana's desk, and before Sana even had time to register what was happening, she felt y/n's lips wrap around her aching clit, her tongue darting out to tease and caress her swollen nub. Sana's eyes widened in surprise and she let out a small gasp, the sound muffled by the pages of her notes.

She slipped a finger inside, making Sana gasp, and began to move. "You're so wet," she whispered, her voice husky with desire. “You like this don’t you mommy.” Sana let out a whimper in response.

As Y/N continued to work her magic, Sana could feel her mind start to wander, her focus slipping away from the books and notes spread out before her. She tried to concentrate on the exam, on the questions she needed to know, but all she could think about was how good it felt to have Y/N's body pressed against hers, her fingers moving inside her. She couldn't help but wonder if she was making the right choice, if she should really be studying right now. But it was too late for second-guessing. All she could do was give in to the pleasure, and hope that she would remember enough to get her through the exam.

Her breath hitched as Y/N's fingers found her clit, circling it expertly, sending waves of pleasure coursing through her body. "Yes," she moaned, arching her back, her hips pushing against Y/N's hand. "Just like that baby ." She could feel herself getting closer, the need building inside her, and she knew she was going to cum.

“You're such a fucking slut for your baby, you know that right?" Y/N whispered, her voice thick with desire. "Just let go, Sana. Let me take care of you." she increased the pressure of her tongue and her fingers, driving Sana closer and closer to the edge.

“Fuck,fuck ,fuck I’m gonna cum please don’t stop”sana said as her eyes rolled back in her head, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she felt herself starting to lose control. the way her lover fingers was deep inside pushing her right to the edge. She needed more. She reached out, tangling her fingers in Y/N's hair, urging her on, begging for more.

As the pleasure built inside her, Sana could feel her muscles tensing, her orgasm growing closer and closer. And then, with a cry of release, she came, her body shuddering and trembling beneath Y/N's expert touch. "Fuck," she moaned, her voice hoarse. "Y/N... I can't... I can't take it..."

But Y/N didn't get up, not yet. She continued to suck on Sana's clit, her fingers still thrusting inside her, relentless in their pursuit of pleasure. And as Sana began to catch her breath, she realized that she was still sitting at her desk, her legs spread wide, her pussy exposed and on display for her girlfriend. A thrill ran through her as she imagined what this must look like, and she let out a moan of approval, urging Y/N to keep going.

"That's it, mommy. You look so pretty when you’re desperate for me ," Y/N murmured, her voice low and husky. "Just let me have you." She reached up, untying Sana's hair from its messy bun and letting it fall around them in a curtain of black. She used it to cover her hands, using the strands to hide her fingers from view as she continued to work her magic.

Sana arched her back, her hips bucking forward as she felt herself growing wetter and needier under Y/N's expert touch. She gripped the edge of the desk, her knuckles white with effort as she tried to remain still, but the sensations were simply too intense. "I'm gonna cum again," she gasped, her breath coming in ragged gasps. "Oh God, Y/N..."

Y/N smiled against her, her tongue darting out to tease and flick at the sensitive bud of her clit. "That's it," she whispered, her voice a low growl. "Let go, Sana. Give it all to me." And with that, Sana was overcome, her body shuddering with another powerful orgasm as she cried out in ecstasy.

As Sana's tremors subsided, Y/N pulled away, gazing up at her with a satisfied smile. She licked her lips, tasting their combined juices, and then leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to Sana's swollen lips. "I'm so proud of you, mommy," she whispered. "You did amazing."

Sana blushed, her cheeks flushed with a mix of pleasure and embarrassment. "Th-thank you," she stammered, her breath coming in short gasps. She looked down at her desk, still covered in books and notes, feeling a pang of guilt. "I-I really should study..."

Y/N laughed softly, her fingers tracing lazy circles on Sana's inner thigh. "Don't worry about that for now," she said, her voice soothing. "You've earned a break." She leaned in, pressing their lips together in a soft, gentle kiss. "Why don't we take a little nap together? It’s getting late. " she suggested, her hand sliding up under Sana's shirt, touching her soft skin.

Sana nodded, feeling herself grow warm at the touch. They got up from the desk, and Y/N helped Sana lie down on the bed. She pulled the blankets up over them, tucking Sana in like a child. As they snuggled close together, their hearts racing and their breaths intermingling, Sana couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment wash over her. It was as if nothing else in the world mattered in this moment, as if they were the only two people in existence.

"I love you, Sana," Y/N whispered, her voice barely audible above the sound of their hearts pounding. "You're the only one for me."

Sana smiled, nestling deeper into Y/N's embrace. "I love you too," she murmured, feeling her eyes grow heavy as sleep began to creep up on her. She couldn't remember the last time she had felt so safe, so cherished. The warmth of Y/N's body against hers was addicting, and as her eyelids grew heavier, she allowed herself to drift off, lost in the comfort of their embrace.

#twice #cry4tzu #twice x reader #twice scenarios #twice sana #minatozaki sana #minatozaki sana x reader #sana x fem!reader #sana x reader #i need sana #K-pop x reader

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neteyamssyulang · 1 month

Text

Supernatural

Day 2

Pairing: Incubus Adult Neteyam x Fem tawtute reader

Warnings: P in V, Dub con, Dom Neteyam, Sub Reader, Rough Neteyam, Creampie.

Word count: 832

Translation(s): Paskalin -> Honey, Yawne -> Beloved

Tagging: @teyamshuman @hidden-snow @anemonelovesfiction @ikeyniofthetayrangi @itchaboi-itchyboy @kia-wolfie @aria-tempest @loaksulluyswife

“These dreams.. they’ve been so- weird the last few days, it’s hard to explain but the dream always starts off normal but then it always ends up with this blue alien fucking my brains out and I wake up being sore between my legs.” You spoke softly, looking between your friends who were rolling their eyes.

Tanya, one of your friends, eventually spoke up “Yeah right y/n” she scoffed, “I think someone has been watching the avatar movies wayyy too much” Jessie, your other friend, added in.

Now they weren’t wrong, you loved to binge watch all the movies but it does not explain why you have the same dream every single damn night.

You went to open your mouth to speak but Jessie cut you off immediately, “Look y/n, we’re gonna go home now but I suggest seeing a therapist or something because your losing it babe”

They gave you both a pitiful smile and got off the couch, walked out the living room, opened the door and left closing it behind them.

Maybe they did have a point, maybe you were losing it.

Or maybe you weren’t.

An hour passed and you got ready for bed, doing your nightly routine but also putting a camera on your dresser facing your bed. Now you’ll finally have proof that your not crazy.

As always, you fell asleep instantly after getting into your warm, cozy, bed.

Your dream started off different this time, you were laying down in the huge fancy bed but no one was in the room with you.

Or so you thought.

“Miss me already paskalin?” Neteyam purred next to you, your breath hitched as you felt his cold hands on your skin, tracing patterns along your stomach before moving his hand down between your legs, swiping a single digit across your folds.

He smirked feeling how wet you already are “Yeah, guess you did miss me.” Before you could register anything, he pinned you down and crawled ontop of you, his cock already hard and leaking pre-cum onto your thigh.

“Wait wait!” You pleaded, pushing at his chest “Wait for what pet? You don’t want this?” He asked completely unfazed, placing one of your legs around his waist and swiped his cockhead teasingly against your slick folds.

“I.. I don- shit!” You screamed as he plunged his cock inside you, small grunts leaving his lips as your walls squeezed tightly around his thick shaft.

Once Neteyam finally bottomed out, he stayed still for a few moments just admiring you. How beautiful you looked underneath him with your eyes squeezed shut and mouth slightly agape trying to adjust to his size.

Doesn’t matter if you took him multiple times before, each time felt like your first time all over again.

Slowly he began moving his hips, his cock dragging against your gummy walls, coaxing out beautiful moans from your lips.

“Nothing to say now huh?” He chuckled, picking up the pace, his hips slapping against yours. “Ungh! Fuck teyam!” You mewled, his cock was hitting all the right spots inside you, making you see stars.

Your hands went to his arms, digging your nails into him making him groan. The sting was oh so delicious and only encouraged him to push deeper into you.

Neteyam leaned down, his hot breath fanning over your ear as he whispered “Your all mine y/n, mine. No one will ever get to have you besides me.”

Your walls clenched around him at his words making his lips tug up into a smirk, “You want that? To be all mine yawne?”

By now your mind has turned to mush, all you could think of was how good Neteyam was fucking you.

“P-please..” you slurred, already feeling your climax approaching rapidly. Leaning back up, he bit his lip and wrapped his tail around your thigh. Fuck you felt like heaven to him, it was only a matter of time before you would be his completely.

With one particular hard thrust your breath hitched and you came hard, gushing around his cock. Feeling your walls clenching tightly around him, Neteyam groaned, painting your gummy walls white.

Your eyes began to slowly flutter shut as he slowly began to withdraw himself from you, “Till next time, little one” he murmured.

You woke up to your alarm going off around 7:30, groaning you opened you eyes and sat up slowly, wincing at the familiar pain between your legs.

Quickly you got out of bed and went to the camera, grabbing it off your dresser. Stopping the recording you sat back down onto the bed and played back the footage you caught.

Holy shit- no..it couldn’t be..

He was actually there, fucking your unconscious body while glancing towards the camera.

Once Neteyam was done and pulled out, he got off the bed, walked to the camera and crouched down.

“Did you enjoy the show darling?” He grinned, sending a wink towards the camera.

#PandorasBloodyMoon #incubus neteyam #neteyam x human reader #neteyamssyulang #neteyam smut #comments really appreciated #please like and reblog #followmypage

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polakina · 3 months

Text

how they respond to suggestive texts

call of duty headcanons #6

hc masterlist // masterlist

on an absolute mission to get so much content out rn, my two days off have proved efficient ahaha

rating: explicit

baffled. was not expecting it at all

he thought he'd have an easy night in doing paperwork in his office until his phone pinged

half expected it to be laswell

damn near dropped his phone when he read the message from you

"i need you, john."

he wasn't used to this sort of advance

he was old school, preferred this sort of thing face to face, but didn't mind straying from his ways of normality

"you need me? well how could i say no to you?"

that was all it ever took, really

he'd always come find you, seeking out what you wanted from him

but it always ended the same way

he'd find you in his bedroom, rolled on your stomach facing the door, waiting for him to enter through it

"need something from me, love? you could have asked."

he could never gauge your texts, what emotion or tone was lurking behind your words

but that's what you liked most about it. the fact he always had to come and find out what you wanted

it could be a favour, it could be a simple question, or it could be this

he saw it in your eyes

"i did ask."

"not really though, hmm?"

he never felt the control of the situation he was used to feeling. not when you had him crawling to your room

"got you here though, didn't i?"

you always had the same smirk on your face when he came striding over to you by the side of the bed, meeting your lips in a kiss as he rolled you over, crawling on top of you

he liked receiving those messages after that

couldn't respond immediately

had no idea what to say back to you

he just stared at him phone for a few moments

"what are you doing right now? i can't sleep"

he never really responded to these sorts of messages, instead he took the physical action of just coming to you

you classed whatever was happening between you as a sort of casual convenience

a simple text had him coming to knock at your door within minutes

and after that, you went about your day until inevitably sending or receiving a similar message a few nights later

"can't sleep, hmm?" he'd ask, leaning against the door frame of your room on base. a smirk always painted his face, expecting the message at some point in the night. "perhaps i can keep you company."

he knew exactly what you needed

fucking you raw until you couldn't feel your legs anymore

your ass in the air, face pressed against the pillows, hands behind your back and held there with his own wrapped around your wrist

he pounded into you until your voice grew hoarse and your body gave out from under you

the sheets were soaked with your juices, your hair strewn over your face from his unrelenting thrusts, sweat slicking your skin

he didn't stop. not until you were limp under his touch

his free hand held your hip, steadying your body as his hips connected with your ass, slapping roughly against your skin and pulling obscene noises from his throat

"fucking hell, love. i should have come here sooner. would have had more time with you."

wouldn't admit it, but loved it when you messaged for him to come to you

was usually waiting at his phone for it to ping with your name popping up on the screen

his heart gets all fluttery at stuff like this, not that he would admit it

a big grin on his face that he can't conceal

"come to bed, johnny."

you called him johnny when you missed him. when you needed him

he often worked late in the office, losing track of time

seeing those messages, it brought a soft smile to his face

"im busy, lass. i'll be a while. go to sleep without me."

he never really caught on the first time

nor did he ever really register the meaning behind any of your messages

"i'm not tired."

"then why do you want me to come to bed?"

he could be so fucking thick sometimes

it finally clicked in his head the second he pressed send

"one second, lass." was all you received as a hasty reply before footsteps came running up the stairs

he practically dove on you the second he came into the room

"here now"

you laughed as he kissed your face and neck

"too late now. you missed your chance," you always joked

he was always late to figure it out. and you always said he'd missed his chance

"hmm...well, sweetheart, we'll see if that answer changes when your clothes are on the floor, shall we?"

liked to make a game of it

your text had him wanting to lock himself in your bedroom and have his way with you, but he restrained himself for a short while first, having fun with it

he played along, wanting to pull a plead out of you before he even thought about coming to satisfy your needs

"i miss you. how long are you going to take?"

he usually stayed late, researching, or sometimes in the armoury detailing his weapons

more often than not, he lost track of time and by the time he was ready to go to bed, it was well past midnight

so your texts usually pulled him out of focus and back to reality

"an hour or so. why, what's up?"

he didn't need to ask. he knew what was up. he always did

"come on, gaz. don't make me say it."

"say it, love."

you hated when he dragged it out. but you loved it at the same time

"i need you."

he always smirked when you finally admitted you needed him. but he liked to play it out even longer, occasionally

he read the message but never replied

it frustrated you, but you carried on

"please, gaz."

that was all he waited for

in the short time it took for him to reach your bunk, you'd have thought he'd ran across the compound

you always found that he was just as needy as you. but he had more patience

his lips were on yours before you'd even managed to close the door behind him

his hands roaming your body, pushing you against the door, hiking you up into his arms, your legs wrapped around his waist

he took you right there and then, pushing your shorts aside, not even bothering to undress you before pushing himself inside you slowly while you adjusted

"you weren't kidding when you said you needed me," he smiled, feeling how easy it was to slip into your wet cunt

he lost all patience for waiting once fully inside you, thrusting his hips against you, his cock hitting that spot inside you that made your thighs tighten around him, locking him in against your body until you both reached your high

"well next time," you smiled, "don't make me wait so long."

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mayfieldss · 9 months

Text

Mess it up - Carmen Berzatto

Summary: it's your birthday, and Carmy will be damned if he doesn't make you a cake. But he keeps messing it up. Based on the mess it up music video, maybe...?

Content Warnings: language, fluff.

I'm just going to be posting fics i wrote months ago from my phone until my computer is fixed guys, so I'm sorry to all those waiting on requests. I promise I'll finish them all when I get my computer back!

Carmy hated proving himself wrong, but today was one of the days where it was all he seemed to be doing. He'd woken up early, 5:35 in the morning, to be exact, and made a mad dash to his kitchen as if his life depended on it. It was your birthday, as he could recall, and he couldn't stand to not do something special, but he'd thought it would have been easier than this.

A cake. One simple cake. Everyday ingredients and Carmy's years of experience should have boiled this down to the perfect match, but one simple cake has now become his worst enemy.

"shit" Carmy mutters out to the empty apartment as he cracks an egg horribly into the bowl, eggshell painting the rest of the contents. "Stupid fucking-" he grabs a teaspoon, scraping out each individual piece of the disaster with very little patience. It takes him forever and in the end, he trashes the whole thing, starting from scratch. It's the best choice he could have made, and the second time everything is easier. He's mixing everything together as fast as he can, one eye on the clock as the time ticks by.

He's fully capable of success at this point, and when enough time has passed Carmy is ready to reveal the best cake he's ever made. But of course, the powers that be have found it humorous to test him, and as he pulls the pan from the oven, it all goes downhill. He watches it slip from his hands and feels the burn of the tray. He hears the harsh crash as the cake and the pan plant themselves face down on the half-open oven door, and a part of him dies when it all registers in his mind.

He thinks he can save it at first, and when he goes to lift up the tray he believes that everything will be fine, until the cake crumbles out of it hopelessly, sitting sad and broken before him. "Fuck!"

His hands come to his hair for a moment, and he thinks it over, eyes drifting to the clock once more as though it might have an answer for him. It only tells the time, as per usual, and that's when Carmy decides. He can do it all again if he hurries.

And so he does. He makes another cake, and this time he manages to get it out of the oven and right over to the kitchen bench. the icing is the easiest part of it all, and though Carmy isn't a fan of sprinkles himself he adds them on top, hoping that they might make the whole thing a little more special. And it all seems fine for a while, Carmy leaving the house with cake in hand as stress clouds his mind.

Until he drops it. Again.

"Fuck!" he says it so loud that the neighbours have to hold some kind of concern, and to his own surprise he finds himself moving back towards the front door. He knows he should just give up, but as the time passes he's back in the kitchen again mixing everything together for the third time that morning, as if he isn't pissed out of his mind.

"C'mon," he mumbles as he stares blankly at the oven, watching the cake cook through the door of it as if that will somehow make it bake faster than before.

When it's finally done, iced and sprinkled and probably better than the first one he made, he's out the door again, rushing down the steps and into the street. He can catch a bus if he's lucky, though clearly he's not.

"I need this seat." Carmy is trying to be nice, the man sitting on the seat at the front of the bus he's managed to jump on frowning at him as though he's got something on his face. He does, though Carmy doesn't know it. There's flour all over him, and cake batter splattered lightly on his cheek and believe it or not, he has sprinkles in his hair. "I need to make sure I don't drop this fucking cake, seriously, so I know it sucks but if you give me your seat I'll, um, I'll pay you."

The man in front of Carmy raises a brow in intrigue before standing with a shrug, and Carmy takes his place gratefully, the cake now safely in his lap. The stranger, though, stands before Carmy expectantly, and he realises then that the man wants his payment now.

"Oh, uh—hold on." it's tough, but Carmen manages to swing his backpack up to his side and pull out his wallet. He's damn near broke, and the contents are even sadder than Carmy remembered them as he looks inside, pulling out five dollars for the man who'd so kindly given his seat away. "Here." He holds out the money but the stranger shakes his head.

"Dude," he mutters, and Carmy knows full well he wants more, but he doesn't have much left to give.

"It's all I can give you in cash." The cake slides to the side in his lap, and Carmy just manages to stop the thing from falling, bumping some of the icing with his thumb as he does so. But it's safe and in tact other than that, and Carmy is willing to accept that as a win.

"What about the cake?" The man beside him asks, eyeing up the pink iced treat Carmy is trying so desperately to protect. "Can I have a slice?"

"Fuck no." Carmy's response comes so fast that the words seem to hit the man like a bullet, leaving Carmy's new travel companion with a harsh frown.

"Jeez, screw you, dude." The guy seems mad, and as the bus pulls to its next stop, Carmy thinks he's made a new enemy. He wants to feel bad about it but can't bring himself to as he looks down at the cake on his lap.

He's done it. He's kept the cake safe.

And it's all worth it when he sees you, bright-eyed and beautiful in your blue apron, ready for the day. He's later, very late, but all his cares in the world seem to disappear the moment you look at him.

And of course it can't be that easy. As easy as locking his eyes with yours and finding a peace, a calm between himself, this cake and you.

"Corner!" The shout comes loud as Richie appears out of nowhere, at work earlier than Carmy for once, but the shout isn't enough warning as the mans chest slams against Carmen's shoulder. It's like slow motion after that, as the cake tumbles from his grasp. It hits the floor with a pathetic slap, and Carmy wants to scream. So he does.

"Fuck!"

He's staring down at the cake as Richie mumbles a half-apology.

"I said corner dude, I'm sorry, but we gotta get going couisn." Richie moves off before Carmy can shout any more profanities, and when he raises his gaze, he sees you. Your lips are open in an 'oh' shape, but when his eyes meet your own, the expression turns into a smile. Sweet and gentle, and filled with a genuine compassion that Carmy doesn't often receive.

When you take steps toward him and his fallen cake, pink icing splattered hopelessly on the tile, he sighs. "Happy birthday."

Your smirk turns to a grin, accompanied by a soft laugh. "Thank you, Bear." You shift your gaze to the cake on the floor, head tilted to the side. "It's still salvageable."

Carmy can only shake his head as you say it but watches you crouch down and grasp a handful of the cake that hasn't touched the floor yet. Your fingers press into the icing, and you smile into the bite of it you take.

"Best birthday cake ever." You mumble as you chew, before moving off to continue with your work, and of course, wash your hands.

And after all of it, Carmen feels okay.

It hadn't worked out how he'd planned in any form, but he'd achieved the main goal he supposed. Delivering you a cake on your birthday was a part of it, but really, he'd done it to see you happy. To see you smiling from something he'd done. And somehow, his mess of a cake had done just that. And your smile was the best prize he'd ever won.

- ♡ -

Reblog to support your writers!!

CARMEN BERZATTO TAGLIST: @thrutheburnout @diorrfairy @norriebunny @yeschefthankyouchef

THE BEAR TAGLIST: @live-love-be-unique @kpopgirlbtssvt

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lovebugism · 1 year

Note

the customer’s always right just gave me life, they're just so sweet AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

THE CUSTOMER'S ALWAYS RIGHT | heart-shaped

summary: you think you might be falling in love with eddie. eddie thinks he might be falling for you. a series of stashed away insecurities threaten to get in the way. pairing: virgin!eddie munson / f!reader word count: 10k holy moly warnings: talks of drugs, shitty boyfriends, and being a whore <3 also reader gets fingered <3 a lil bit of angst, smut 18+ mdni a/n: ah shit here we go again!! thanks for waiting so patiently for me to get over my writer's block and finally post! reading all the feedback for this series has been so nice, all of you guys are so so sweet <333 anyway, pls enjoy this installment and if you don't.. maybe don't tell me :^) happy reading ily!

( PREVIOUSLY) | ( MASTERLIST ) | ( NEXT )

Truth be told, working the lunch rush at Enzo’s wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

It meant you got to miss out on serving all the wine snobs at dinner who send back devoured dishes like it’s their job — insistent on a refund because their food was “unsatisfactory” just to get twice the meal with half the tip.

The rich country club goers you waited on were far more docile in comparison. They arrive dressed in pastel-collared shirts and pretty athletic dresses after finishing up their tennis practices or games of golf.

They sit and talk for hours, dine on the most expensive shrimp and wine, just to leave a tip so ginormous that you have to thank them before they go. It’s a flaunt of wealth more than anything. It might’ve felt the least bit demeaning if it wasn’t going directly into your pockets.

And it would be way too lame of you to say that getting to see Eddie Munson after your shift was the only thing getting you through it at all. That sort of puppy love belonged to high schoolers who don't know any better, you know that… But screw it— knowing you were going to meet him after was the only thing getting you through this mind-numbing, foot-aching, brain-cell-losing, eight-hour shift.

The days, of which there had been four (but, then again, who’s counting?), had been excruciating without him.

You couldn’t even sleep the first night you left his trailer. You felt him everywhere — your mouth, your chest, and between your legs — still buzzing with his touch even halfway across Hawkins.

It had you swearing up and down that the Dungeon Master had some actual powers you didn’t know about. That he’d cast some sort of love spell on you after getting you to come on his thigh.

You quickly learned that Eddie Munson was the kind of boy that girls lose sleep over; the kind of boy that reduces you to your basic schoolgirl tendencies as you grin into your pillow and kick your feet in the air.

It was embarrassing, the effect he had on you.

And you so desperately wanted to blame it on whatever witchcraft the town thought the leader of Hellfire possessed. It was easier than facing the fact that you were head over heels for a stupid boy.

You didn’t even have time to face it, really, because you were already too busy falling for him. He had you tripping all over yourself and face-planting into the petals of a thousand roses — it was pathetic.

You’d catch yourself smiling whenever you thought of him, grinning like an idiot while you rang up customers at the register — more ecstatic at the idea of Eddie than the hundred-dollar tip they’d left you. It made you giddy to think about seeing him again, enough that it distracted you from the fact that you hadn’t sat down since your shift started.

Eddie had you full of sunshine and rainbows and mirth, like something out of a damn GAP commercial. It was a particular sort of happiness you thought abandoned you a long, long time ago.

Apparently, you were wrong.

You think of Eddie, and a foreign feeling of anticipation swirls in the pit of your stomach. It almost makes you sick with childlike excitement. You didn’t know another person was capable of making someone this happy. It’s unfamiliar and daunting and euphoric and really fucking scary.

It’s an otherworldly feeling that feels like it’s only happening to you. A secret you want to keep to yourself and shout from the rooftops at the same time. People bustle around you, keep on living their mundane lives, and spare not a glance to their lovesick waitress.

No one knows I’m falling in love right now, you find yourself thinking.

But that isn’t exactly true. Jim Hopper knows because that asshole knows everything, and notices almost immediately how strange you’re acting.

The chief of police was always a comforting sight amidst a sea of strangers, most of whom made more in a week than you could ever hope to make in a year. He's a breath of fresh air, as it were, which is strange considering the two of you spent the entirety of your high school career playing cat and mouse.

He’d catch you smoking, threaten to turn you in, and you’d beg him not to — pull out all the stops, the puppy dog eyes, the innocent schoolgirl charm, the whole damn nine to make him melt.

He’d take pity on you and let you off with a warning, as long as you promised never to do it again. And you’d lie to him, tell him it was a one-time thing, and he’d catch you a week or so later — getting high at the quarry or with your hand shoved down the pants of a man too old for you at Lover’s Lake.

And the cycle would keep on repeating for the next four agonizing years until you graduated.

Strangely, somewhere along the line, the two of you became pretty good friends.

Everyone once in a while, he’ll stop by Enzo’s during his breaks to keep you company. He never actually orders food, though, just binges on the endless free breadsticks until the buttons of his uniform threaten to pop. He'll bathe in yellow candlelight and chi-antee for an hour or more and then leave you a too big tip you always have to fight about when he goes.

Your pour the crimson colored wine he’d ordered into his rounded glass, flashing him the label before describing the vintage to him, per your boss’s demand.

It feels foreign to be so formal in front of Hopper — because, after catching you with a mouthful of Tommy Hagan in a car back in '83, nothing makes either of you uncomfortable anymore. But sometimes it feels like your asshole manager is lurking over your shoulder every damn second of the day.

And having a job is more important than your pride, you figure.

“This is a medium-bodied, acidic tart, ruby red wine. The earthy aroma pairs nicely with the cherry and strawberry notes…” and blah, blah, blah. You’ve repeated the same couple of lines so often you’ve started to say them in your sleep.

“Well, shit, teacup. If you put that much effort into school, you coulda been valedictorian,” Jim quips with a signature dad smirk that’s half-hidden beneath his bushy mustache.

It’s not the first time he’s made that dumb joke, and it won’t be the last.

You roll your eyes more at the nickname than the backhanded compliment, because it isn’t your fault the sasquatch is six-foot-four.

“How much is this one gonna cost me?” he asks you and leans in his plush seat to reach for the wallet in his back pocket.

“Don’t worry about it, lurch. It’s on the house.”

A mischievous glint twinkles in Jim’s eye as he squints up at you. He tucks the leather back into his khakis. “Sure Enzo won’t mind?” he asks you because he hasn’t yet bothered to acknowledge that your boss wasn’t actually named Enzo.

“Yeah, he’ll be pissed,” you confirm with a shrug. “I just don’t care.”

“Well, you’re in an unrealistically good mood after the lunch rush,” he sing-songs.

You don’t miss the suspicious lilt in his voice. Your smile is equally sarcastic and sickly sweet as you tell him: “It’s ‘cause my favorite customer is here—”

“Yeah, I don’t buy that,” he interjects with a curt shake of his head. He sits up straighter and leans his elbows on the white linen cloth of the table like he means business. “Who’s the boy?”

“What— I don’t— What are you— boy?” you sputter with a half-hearted laugh. Your stammering isn’t the least bit convincing.

“It’s a boy, right?” he monotones. “You only get all giddy and gross like this when there’s a boy.”

You hate that he knows you so well. It might’ve been sweet if it wasn’t totally infuriating.

To be fair, you did tend to wear your heart on your sleeve, even when you didn’t want to. When you were falling in love, it poured out of you like sunshine and blinded anyone who dared to look too closely.

Golden rays shoot from your fingertips, shine in the irises of your eyes, and flash from your smile — like the one tugging at the edges of your lips now.

It leaves no room to deny what he already knows: that you’re a stupid girl with a stupid crush on a stupid boy because she hasn’t learned from her stupid mistakes.

“Fine,” you concede with your sheepish gaze flitted to the ceiling. “It’s— It’s dumb. It’s a silly crush, it doesn’t mean anything.”

Hopper nods, like he’s giving you some kind of blessing. “Good for you. It’s about time you moved on from that asshole— what was his name again? Harrington?”

It makes you roll your eyes. You can’t tell if he’s actually confused or if he’s making fun of you. It would be all too like a middle-aged man to make a misogynistic joke about a girl who’s had more partners than years she’s been alive.

“Hargrove,” you correct in a monotone. Your tone is as bitter as thinking about him makes you feel.

“Him, too,” he quips.

There it is.

“It’s not even like that, okay? It’s not like anything,” you try and deflect like you aren’t beaming and trying horribly to hide it. “He… He probably doesn’t even like me like that.”

“Well, it’s about time you got over that boy, is all I’m saying. You deserve a good guy. A boy treats you right, who has actual aspirations in life, and keeps his nose clean—” he rambles as he brings the wine to his mouth to take a drink. He stops himself to ask: “What's his name again?”

You fidget ahead of him, shifting your weight on your feet awkwardly because good guy who stays out of trouble and has actual aspirations in life isn’t how most people would describe the Munson boy. Jim least of all.

He’s got a similar relationship with Eddie to the one he had with you, though there was little room for friendship between the two. It’s just an outlaw making a living on drugs and a chief trying to catch him dealing it.

“Eddie,” you answer and then clear your throat. “Uh, Eddie Munson…”

The life leaves Jim’s eyes.

There’s no amount of wine in Enzo’s cellar that could’ve prepared him for that — or you, for the twenty-minute lecture that followed.

“I have no words,” he’d scolded you like a disappointed parent but proceeded to rant for nearly half an hour after the fact, in true fatherly fashion.

Hopper knows when you’re falling in love. It’s all sunshine and rainbows and blue skies. It’s all so sweet he could gag. But there’s always another side of that coin — a dark, colder, meaner one.

Because sometimes boys are cruel, sometimes you really are in over your head, and sometimes relationships don’t work out. And when things go bad, they go rotten, and he has to deal with the storm cloud you become after the fact.

Taking care of you becomes his part-time job, and his check-ins become endless as he makes sure you don’t fall back into your old ways — using and getting used.

And truth be told, you don’t have the best track record with men, and Hopper tries to tell you all this, but it doesn’t get through.

Because you have a good feeling about this. About Eddie.

Fuck all the rest.

Today marks your thirteenth meeting with Eddie.

For such an unlucky number, it’s got you squirming from all the butterflies fluttering in your belly with an excitement more innocent than you’re used to. Like standing in the queue for a rollercoaster in a childlike mixture of apprehension and animation, somehow both frightened and enraptured for what’s to come.

And you’re absolutely bouncing with it. Smiling to yourself in the car with the radio turned all the way up and the windows all the way down, thrumming your fingers on the steering wheel as you belt the lyrics to “Super Trouper” with a beam that could make the sunshine cower.

It’s all completely and utterly perfect until you become suddenly aware of how unearthly happy you are.

Then it hits you like a ton of bricks and you shrink into yourself because… maybe you shouldn’t feel this way. The last time you saw Eddie, he came in his jeans and you got off on his thigh — there was never any room for daydreaming and pining and puppy love-ing, not when you so quickly gave yourself away.

The thought of Eddie not nearly being as happy to see you is what hurts the most. How he had you once and now you’re back to just being the customer he sees once a week.

What if he doesn’t give you weed for free anymore? Fuck that — what if you’re not his favorite?

And maybe it’s just you, maybe you’re the problem. Maybe you should be passed the point of giddy excitement, maybe it’s uncool, maybe you’re wearing your heart on your sleeve and it’s leaving the door open for too much hurt. Maybe Hopper was right.

But you’re happy, at least for right now, and you don’t get the chance to be too often.

Most days, you’re just an accessory — a pretty pebble someone finds on the ground and spends a couple of seconds ogling at before leaving and never thinking about again.

You deserve the chance to be held, don’t you? You should get to be praised and coddled and worshipped like the pretty girls do.

And Eddie makes you feel held.

So you’ll stick around until he gets bored of you, until you stop being so fun for him. You’ll take the moments of happiness as they’re spoon-fed to you and taste them, really taste them, until you’re starving again. You’ll stay full of this pure puppy love you have for Eddie until it’s time for you to go.

Because, for now, you’re happy. And isn’t that what matters most?

You don’t know it, but Eddie’s caught in a similar dilemma.

He waits for you at the bench you meet him at every week, like you’ve done for months now, but he’s filled with an unfamiliar gaiety as he anticipates your arrival.

He’s so goddamn excited to see you that he doesn’t know what to do with himself. It borders on a slight uneasiness that makes him sick to his stomach.

Eddie never gets nervous around customers. Not once, not ever.

He’s dealt to weirdos who live on the wrong side of the track, preppy douchebags that shove him into lockers at school, and pretty cheerleaders who pretend he doesn’t exist outside of dealing.

He’s seen it all, really. But you’re the one that’s got him bouncing his knee something fierce beneath the table and tapping his fingers against the rotted top of it while his heart races a million miles a minute.

He’s frightened of being too overeager. He’s scared that you’ll come here, all cool and collected about all of it, and he’ll be the freak show acting like a pretty girl’s never given him an ounce of attention before. They haven’t, but he’d rather not project that sort of disposition. Not to you, at least.

He guesses, more than anything, he’s just afraid of scaring you away.

So Eddie tries to keep the smile on his face hidden — not knowing that it’s your favorite part about him. He tries to be as stoic as possible. He wants to be this cool and mysterious and sexy guy he thinks you want, having no idea that you’d already fallen in love with him before he even realized he needed to be those things for you.

He’s just about able to wash away his grin when he sees you emerge from the woods and into the small clearing where the lone picnic table lives.

The pinky plaid skirt you wear rustles against your legs with the breeze, the pleated edges brushing against the skin of your thighs. You pair it with a white piece of Beatles merch that clings to your torso — and fuck he hates the Beatles, but you’re the prettiest thing his cynical eyes have ever seen.

He’s beaming at you before he even realizes it. And by the time he does, he doesn’t feel like the idiot he thought he would.

You’re both sporting matching grins, trying to hide them and failing miserably. His is pursed softly to the side and yours is pulled between your teeth.

You look like the rays of sunlight filtering through the trees, Eddie thinks to himself.

His eyes must be the golden of them, you conclude.

When you settle on the bench in front of him, you tuck your skirt neatly beneath you and focus on smoothing out than fabric rather than meet the boy’s gaze. You sport a meek smile and a pair of fidgeting hands that ache to touch him.

“Hi,” you greet sheepishly.

He sees your face scrunch in embarrassment at how shy you sound, and the way you almost reach out for his hand but stop yourself just as quickly. He wishes you wouldn’t. He wishes you knew how perfect you were, even when you weren’t totally graceful.

“Hi,” he repeats with a mocking, but no less loving grin, tilting his head towards his shoulder. “How’s it going?”

“Oh, you know… overworked and underpaid,” you shrug. “Just the usual.”

You’re grateful for the small talk. It leaves little room for the awkwardness swimming in your belly. He doesn’t immediately mention what happened the last time you saw him, like people often do when they want to do it all over again. But he isn’t in a hurry to give you your weed so you’ll leave him alone either. That's what people usually do when they want nothing to do with you anymore.

It’s almost like it never happened.

Or rather, like it did, and he isn’t treating it like a spectacle.

It’s refreshing.

“Boss giving you a hard time?”

“Oh, always. I’m pretty sure that’s what he gets paid to do, actually.”

“Right,” he breathes out a laugh.

Silence hangs in the air for a moment, just a blink of a second, but it’s noticeable. The sudden quiet floats on the cool breeze that ruffles Eddie’s wild hair and sends a shiver down your spine.

In a split-second decision, you decide not to deprive yourself of the urge to touch him. Partly to distract from the stillness, but mostly because the ache had reached a fever pitch.

You’re so enthralled by his hands resting upon the old wood — the veins that decorate the back of them like the roots of a tree, the way his fingers thrum to a beat only he can hear, and the rings that wrap around them.

“Is this new?” you wonder aloud. You take his wrist in one hand and trace the glinting silver on his pointer finger with the other. It’s the bony fingers of a skeleton curved to form a heart. He’s taped the sides to make it fit better. It didn’t belong to him before now.

Eddie watches, pleasantly surprised, as you dote on him.

Your eyes glitter golden beneath an early setting sun. They dance with amusement as your fingertip traces his heart-shaped ring. He smiles to himself and wonders how often you’re looking at his hands to notice he’s got a new ring on.

“Oh, yeah,” he shrugs. He plays it cool, like his heart isn’t thrumming like a hummingbird in his chest at your touch. “Got it a couple days ago at the thrift store outside of town. It was a whole seventy-five cents.”

“I like it. It’s cute.”

“Cute?” he repeats with a scrunched nose and blushing face.

It makes you giggle. “Yeah. You can be cute and badass at the same time, you know?”

“I didn’t know those were mutually exclusive.”

“They weren’t. Not until you came into the world, Eddie Munson.”

He feels cold when you drag your hand away. The kind, almost teasing grin you flash his way warms him all over again. He’s still trying to get used to being so loved on.

You can see the way he gets lost in you for a moment. His cinnamon-tinted gaze, made golden in the sunlight, glazes over as his head gets stranded in the clouds.

The only reason you notice it is because it happens to you. Eddie makes it so terribly easy to float in the deep galaxy of his eyes. Your heart swells to know that it’s happening to him now. Happening to him because he’s looking at you.

You didn’t know you were the kind of girl people could get lost in.

Eddie clears his throat and shakes his head, mostly to himself, but enough to jostle the soft curls that frame his face and sit above his eyes.

“Well, I’m honored, sweetheart,” he grins his signature grin, the bright and cocky one, though he’s too shy to make it reach his eyes now. He busies himself and his restless fingers by rifling through the product sitting in the tin box at his side — baggies full of green nuggets and white powdery pills.

“So, uh, what’s on the menu this week? The usual?”

“I’ve still got my stash from last week,” you confess. “Haven’t really had the time to smoke it yet.”

His eyes flit up to yours again. “…Yeah?” is all he can think to say to you because internally he’s buzzing — you didn’t even need weed, he thinks to himself, you just wanted to see him.

You only shrug. “I’ve just been, like, crazy busy this week.”

Eddie nods understandingly, but can’t help but to joke: “Is that why you haven’t called?”

Because, fuck, if the past couple of days without talking to you haven’t been complete and total agony. He knows it’s a little too brash and brave of him to wonder why you went AWOL when he hasn’t exactly made an effort to seek you out either.

Not for lack of wanting to, though. He’d like to put that on record.

“Well, I didn’t call because I don’t have your number,” you retort with a smile that toes the line between cunning and timidity. “So, you can’t really blame me for that.”

He huffs dramatically. “Guess not.”

“It’s probably for the best. If I could call you, I’d never leave you alone.”

“Bold of you to assume I’d want you to,” he dismisses your negative talk with ease.

You warm with his words and duck your gaze on instinct. You keep your eyes on your hands while you fidget with your fingers, wishing that they were his instead. “Just don’t want to bother you or whatever, you know?”

“You could never bother me.”

“Promise?” you ask him. Your smile is playful, but your words are sincere.

Eddie’s is much of the same. “Cross my heart.”

“How about this — I give you my number and you just call whenever you’re free,” you offer, more confident at the boy’s admission and glowing with it. “‘Cause, you know, Wayne probably wouldn’t appreciate me clogging up the phone line very much.”

“He wouldn’t notice… Or care,” he tells you and pulls out an old pen from his tin box. His sparkling deep brown eyes stay locked on you as you rise from your side of the bench and round the table to sit next to him.

You’re obviously not as nervous as he’d been at the trailer all those nights ago, when he had to practically be beckoned over to realize you wanted him beside you.

You sit opposite him, with your knees pointed away from the bench. You get to be closer to him this way. Your thigh presses against his as you twist towards him, your chest mere inches from his arm, your mouth even closer.

You write a series of numbers on his forearm that Eddie can’t make out because he’s too busy looking at you. He admires the frown between your brows as you struggle to get the ink to write and the way your lips purse to the side in concentration.

“Wayne would actually be pretty stoked I was talking to a girl—” he jokes with a laugh though he’s quick to cut himself off like he’d said something he wasn’t supposed to.

His admission was supposed to be funny, something the rest of Hellfire would’ve laughed at because they know him. But you don’t, and he doesn’t really want you to. You’ve already got this idea of him in your head. He lives in agony that he won’t be able to live up to it.

He’ll just have to fake it, he concludes. Fake it until he doesn’t recognize himself anymore.

Fortunately enough for him, you don’t read into his words too much.

“He wants you to settle down, huh?” you joke back, half-distracted as you doodle a heart onto his skin.

“Wants me to move out, more like.”

“I’m sure he’d appreciate the bed.”

Eddie scoffs. “Yeah, right. That old geezer’s practically in love with his Laz-E-Boy.”

He watches with glimmering eyes as you laugh. Then he’s smiling because you’re smiling. He isn’t sure how else he’s supposed to look at you. How could anyone possibly look at you and not hold so much love in their eyes?

You haven’t yet let go of his arm, he notices, as you cradle his wrist in your grasp and swipe your thumb over the blotchy blue veins there. Your gaze is pointed down to where you hold him. There’s a distant grin on your face as you admire such a minute piece of him.

He wants so badly to kiss you.

He could. All he’d have to do, really, is move his head a couple inches and he’d brush the apple of your cheek. The skin would warm against his lips until he ducked down to kiss you for real.

And he feels just bold enough to ask you, but not quite enough to say the words out loud. Instead, they sit impatiently on the edge of his tongue while he waits for the right moment to say them. The wind blows, and it passes.

“It wouldn’t be totally crazy if I kissed you right now, would it?” you ask him first, looking at him through your lashes like you’re scared he might reject you.

He glows pink, momentarily stunned that you beat him to the punch, then worried that you might’ve read his mind. He plays it cool with a shrug and a shake of his head. “No… Not unless it’s totally crazy how bad I want you to kiss me right now.”

You don’t waste any time. You gravitate towards him like you were made to do it and he meets you easily halfway.

When your lips lock, it feels like a routine. Kissing you is like a cup of coffee and the morning paper and a rocking chair on a front porch — something he could do forever and ever and not get bored of.

You kiss him so soft, more gentle than anyone’s ever been with him, but your tongue swipes into his open mouth, and it’s dirty.

Eddie still isn’t sure how a person could touch him the way you do. You’re all sweet, like you’re frightened you might break him, but you aren’t scared to kiss him like he’s yours.

As good as it feels to have him against you this way, the position you’re in isn’t any less awkward. Your upper-half is still twisted to face him and he has to lean slightly over to touch you completely.

He explores the cavern of your mouth with a more confident tongue than you remember him having while ten ringed fingers press into your ribs.

Eddie can feel your mouth contort in a smile. He thinks it’s because he’s tickling you, but you’re just in love and totally giddy with it.

The wooden edge of the bench digs into your spine. The ache distracts you from feeling him the way you want to — the way you need to — so you make a split-second decision to rise from your seat and rest your bottom on the table.

Your lips click wetly, almost out of protest, when they part.

You use the palms of your hands to lift you and prop your sneakers on the bench seat when you sit down again. You wait patiently for Eddie to accommodate you, to rise and keep kissing you the way he was just kissing you.

He does. Eventually.

He just needed a few moments to gather himself when your new position flashes him the faintest glimpse of your panties — all black and dotted with little red hearts that have started to fade with time.

His eyes widen and he everts his gaze immediately. His cheeks and the tip of his nose go red, like he’d been caught looking at something he wasn’t supposed to be looking at. It’s sort of stupid. You were getting off on his thigh some days ago, and now you’re kissing him like you mean to swallow him whole, surely you wouldn’t mind him peeking.

If he were someone totally different, he might’ve spread your legs, dug his fingers into the fat of your thighs, and put his mouth on you like he wanted to do three nights ago — like he’s been wanting to do for ages.

But he doesn’t.

He just sits there, for what feels like forever, feeling like a total idiot.

But if you notice his hesitancy, you don’t show it. You just cup his warm cheeks in your hands and drag him up to you. Eddie isn’t enough of a dumbass to reject your affections.

He happily melts into your touch once more while the both of you maneuver like a bunch of lovesick teenagers around the bench — rather than just part momentarily to move more efficiently.

You round the table so you’re propped on the outside of it and Eddie’s no longer confined in the seat. If making out and multitasking was an olympic sport, you and Eddie would take the gold, no doubt.

It’s hopelessly high school, the way you make out like teenagers in some clearing, known only to Eddie’s most loyal customers and a golden orange sky.

It feels rebellious and raunchy, like you’ve just snuck out of Mr. Kaminsky’s lecture on chemical bonds to fuck under the bleachers. You kiss each other and it feels like you’re doing something so much more than yourselves.

Eddie touches you and you feel like a kid again. Everything’s just new experiences and stomachs full of butterflies — heartache is virtually nonexistent.

As far as you’re concerned, you’ve never been kissed before now.

You had no idea someone could hold so much love in their mouth and then kiss you with it. You’re so used to tongue and teeth and spit, not these slow and sweet pecks that feel like white clouds and summer rain.

Every now and then, Eddie will slot his kiss-bitten bottom lip between the plush of your swollen mouth. And he’ll just stay there, for several long moments, just to feel you. His ringed fingers rise to cradle your jaw to keep you against him. His nose knocks against the bridge of yours and his heavy breaths fan against your cupid’s bow.

You’re not sure why he does this, why he chooses to be so soft with you when he knows he could have you however he wants. You’re a kitten purring against his chest now, all pliable and willing for him, but he just likes how still and soft you are like this.

You let him kiss you the way he likes. You notice he takes acute infatuation with your bottom lip, biting softly and pulling at the skin until it’s a plump pink thing for him to suck into his mouth.

Every swipe of his tongue against yours is experimental and methodical. He finds what makes you exhale the heaviest moans and keeps doing that until you’re a puddle of a woman in his hands.

Oh, god. His hands.

It’s almost unfair how kind they are.

One keeps a steady, warm hold on your cheek. He can feel the way you start to soften as you lean more and more into his touch. The other has fallen to your thigh. His fingertips settle beneath the skirt you picked out specifically for him, but don’t move any further than that.

He just likes the feel of you, it seems, as he pets the softness of your skin. Occasionally, he’ll squeeze and marvel at the feeling of your thigh in his grasp and the way it makes you moan against him. The feeling of his silver rings against you makes chill bumps erupt on your skin.

You’re unsure if he knows the effect he has on you. Surely, he must, you figure — just days ago you were falling apart on his thigh and here you are now, willing to do it all over again.

He touches you like he knows. Like he takes pleasure in teasing you until you’re all but begging for more. And you’re not the least bit ashamed to do it, either. His touch, his hand down your panties, it isn’t a want — it’s a need.

You take Eddie’s wrist in your impatient hand, moving his palm further and further beneath your skirt until it’s pressed against the dampening cotton of your underwear. “Touch me, Eds,” you plead against his mouth, already breathless.

The boy tenses.

It’s a dream come true in the most literal sense, to feel you like this. You cling to his consciousness wherever he goes. You’ve spent so many nights plaguing his dreams that they’ve started to feel like nightmares. He’d wake up in the middle of the night, achingly hard and shuddering with cold sweats at the mere thought that he’d never get to have you the way he always dreamt of having you.

But it’s here now, lying beneath a heart-patterned cloth, and he doesn’t know what to do with it.

He’s not scared of you exactly, just of everything else.

His hand has never gotten anyone off but himself. He’s scared that he won’t make you feel good, or worse, that he’ll hurt you — he’s scared of himself. He’s terrified of losing you and you’re not even his.

It’s everything else that frightens him, but not you. Not when you’ve got your legs spread out before him and begging him to touch you. Not when you act like you want to be his.

Rather than deprive himself of the dream of you, Eddie decides to hook his pointer finger around the hem of your panties and slide them to the side.

With your pussy concealed by the pleated skirt you wear, he’s forced to work blindly while he touches you. He doesn’t mind, though. He takes the opportunity to feel you as it’s presented to him on a silver platter — the softness of your lips, the trimmed mound of hair above them, the slick coating your warmed skin.

You feel like silk and velvet. A material that’s far too expensive to touch. It makes him feel like he’s ruining you in some way.

Eddie’s open-mouthed, heavy breaths fan against your lips, all nicotine and mint gum. Your eyes flutter shut at the feeling of him — billowing across your jaw, pressed between your thighs, fingers treating your pussy like it’s a piece of delicate art.

“More,” you beg in a dream-coated sigh and spread yourself further for him. You’ve got one hand twisted in his leather jacket and the other flipping up the skirt of your dress, putting yourself on display for him — a piece of delicate art indeed.

You’re laid out before him, all at once, bare and glistening with need.

He’s seen plenty of vaginas in his time, usually photographed in a centerfold of a magazine or half-blurry through a botched VHS tape. But, for obvious reasons, you’re quite different.

You’re beautiful. The kind of beauty that men would’ve fallen on their swords for a time ago, the kind you’re lucky to see in a lifetime. That’s a bit what it feels like to look at you. He looks at you, and he sees a cotton candy sunset over mountains that touch the clouds or clear blue waters that go on for infinity.

Even like this, with your pussy on display for him — in a moment that’s supposed to be dirty — it’s a serene sort of beautiful. You need to be hung up in a museum, Eddie thinks to himself, in the Louvre or some shit — because a freak show from the middle of nowhere shouldn’t get to just have you like this.

He slots his middle finger between your lips, for once not overthinking when the urge to feel you takes over. You soak his appendage with ease, the slick only adding to your softness. He dips down to the dimple of your opening and rises to the peak of your swelling clit. He notices how it makes you twitch against him.

It feels like being you’re touched for the first time. Unfolded and cherished like some sort of expensive gift. You’re not used to this sort of tenderness. No one’s taken things this slow with you before. The way he’s making you feel good is for him just as much as it is for you. It’s unfamiliarly blissful to be handled with so much care.

Eddie watches with heavy and attentive eyes as your head tips back, like you’re starting to drown in your own pleasure and unbothered to keep yourself afloat. Your contented sighs and gentle tremors spur him forward. Those subtle praises almost equal the pleas that spill from your kissed mouth.

It makes him stop worrying about how to do all this without being totally obvious that he’s never done any of it before.

Everything he knows, he’s gotten from poorly produced porn. He doesn’t want to treat you like that. Like you’re some toy or plaything or a game to be won. He wants to take things slow and treat you right because it’s becoming more and more obvious to him that no one’s ever done that for you.

He’ll be your first, if you’ll be his.

He finds himself grateful for how responsive you are. He doesn’t need to know everything there is to know about sex or ask you for direction like an idiot because your pussy tells him what to do.

You tremble every time the pad of his finger swipes against your clit. He can feel you clench around nothing every time he dips towards your opening, as if in a silent plea. You tell him what you like without saying anything, but rather by drenching him in clear-coated honey.

His eyes have trouble flitting away from your pleasure-ridden face and down to where he coaxes you open. His finger glistens with your wetness. Beneath a setting sun, it looks like the sparkling rays over an ocean.

“Fuck,” he huffs, almost moaning. “You’re so fucking wet.”

“Sorry…” you mutter meekly.

“What?” Eddie finds himself laughing softly, brows furrowing in confusion at your sudden embarrassment. That’s not the response he was expecting. “Why are you apologizing?”

Your skin burns hot at his question — no longer warmed from pleasure, but out of pure self-consciousness. It’s a conversation you’re used to now, but it hasn’t gotten any easier. With his finger still caught in your drenched pussy, you find it suddenly hard to meet his gaze and instead peer at him through your lashes.

“I don’t know,” you murmur. “Some guys think it’s gross… And messy—”

“Screw ‘em,” he blurts. His brown eyes twinkle with a newfound confidence, not one of the unabashed metalhead drug dealer, but one of a boy whose head over heels for a girl who doesn’t know what it means to be truly cared for. “It’s sexy,” he assures you.

A shy smile hints at the corners of your lips, innocently comforted by the promise and pleased by the compliment. “Really?”

“I promise, sweetheart,” he tells you with a wholehearted nod. He means it more than anything he’s ever said. “Cross my goddamn heart.”

He leans in to press his lips against yours then, just because it feels right to, and you graciously accept his affection.

Eddie’s kisses come in innocent, loving pecks that are far too sweet in comparison to the way he’s making you feel. His finger traces the slick gathering at your opening, not having to force his way in because your pussy is more than wanting.

Both of you let out low moans when he’s finally inside of you. He doesn’t stop until the silver of his ring is pressed into the outside of your pussy.

You’re wrapped around him like velvet, warm and tight velvet that won’t let him go. He works hard to find a steady rhythm that you like and watches your every reaction intently.

You’ve got your lip dragged between your teeth, biting so hard that the fragile skin has started to blanch. Your eyes have fluttered slowly shut with a frown forming between your brows in a vague concentration as you focus on your own pleasure.

You seem to like it most when he’s crooking his finger rather than thrusting them inside of you. At least, that’s what he assumes, as he reaches a much softer spot within you that makes you jolt against him.

Your hand darts to his wrist, not to tug him away or pull him any closer, just to tether yourself to him.

“Can you— fuck—” you sputter when the palm of his hand bumps against your clit. “Can you add another finger? Please?”

You’re all whiny and breathy like you’re begging him, like there’s any chance he might deny you. Eddie’s not exactly in the business of saying no to you.

He slides his ring finger in with his middle. He marvels at how snugly they fit inside you and how the sticky nectar coats his skin. Your wetness has gathered around his silver rings, including the one with the skeleton hand you were complimenting earlier.

He doesn’t ever want to wash them again... Not that he ever did in the first place, but he makes a vow not to start now.

Eddie doesn’t know it, but this is the part where you usually get embarrassed. Sometimes you think you’re too sensitive, too responsive. You’ve found that there’s a threshold between being sexy and being needy that most guys tend to enjoy. But, for you, it's a finicky thing and you find yourself crossing it before you realize it.

You moan too loud, talk too much, whine too often. Nearly everyone you’ve ever been with has said so in some way or another — mostly in gentle approaches that are observations more than anything. But some boys aren’t so nice. They say that you get too turned on, the wetness coating your pussy is evidence of that, and they tell you that’s it’s gross.

But here, now, with Eddie, there’s little room for embarrassment.

He tells you that you’re pretty, swears up and down that the way your slick trickles down his fingers is sexy. And for the first time in your life, you find yourself actually believing someone who tells you that.

You let him pry you open with slow and meticulous touches. You can feel his bent fingers deep inside you, exploring the slick velvet of your walls, and rubbing at the spot that makes you keen. It’s got your back arching and thighs trembling by his waist, toes curling inside your sneakers while you keep a tight grip on his wrist.

“Rub my clit, Eds,” you plead breathlessly with your eyes shut tight. You’re about to come, you can feel the tightening coil in the pit of your belly, you just need a little bit more. “Please, Eddie— please, touch my clit—”

He’s hasty in his attempts to comply to your request. He barely lets the words leave your mouth before he presses the pad of his thumb just above the hood of your clit. And it doesn’t feel bad per se, it actually feels pretty damn good, it’s just not where you need him most.

It’s not the first time a guy’s had trouble finding your clit and you figure it won’t be the last, so you opt guide him with a helping hand. You maneuver his thumb until it’s pressed snuggly against your swollen button.

Eddie watches attentively as it makes you whine. You arch your back, pressing yourself further against him, as a moan rises from the depths of your chest and spills out of your mouth. You pull him somehow closer by the lapel of his jacket.

He takes every unspoken criticism to heart, along with every one of your wordless praises. His acute attention to what you like the most — how his thumb on your clit makes you clench around him, how you moan every time he rubs against that foreign spongy spot inside of you, and how he keeps on doing that because he can tell that you like it — sends you to an otherworldly place pleasure.

It’s different from guys that are just good from experience. Most do the same old shit that gets their girl off because they know they’ll get off in the end, too.

Eddie’s attentiveness is unfamiliar and spellbinding, all-consuming and unavoidable. A pleasure you’re both chasing and wanting to run away from out of fear it might be too much.

“Is this okay?” he whispers to you, breath fanning across your cheek.

You nod wordlessly in reply, with your lip caught between your teeth as you fight to bite back the cry building in your throat. It’s hard to when he’s so intently hitting every spot that makes you dizzy. The moan that inevitably spills from your mouth sounds wet, like you might really start to cry.

“Fuck,” you wail when your stomach tenses. His fingers, deep in the confines of your pussy and rubbing at your clit, are relentless. Pleasure’s biting at your ankles now and you have no way to stop it from swallowing you whole. “Feels so good, Eds—”

Your mouth hangs open as you drop your head down to watch him work you open.

His ringed fingers are coated with you, a sheen of honey that drips down his fingers and onto the silver wrapped around them. You’re hopelessly spread open for him, your pussy blooming like a flower at the promise of springtime for the boy, and then tightening around him to keep him trapped inside you.

It’s dirty, like a lewd piece of art that you can’t help but gawk out.

You fight to keep your heavy eyes open. You want to watch what he’s doing to you, but it’s a harder feat than you could’ve ever imagined. Pleasure rises so violently in you. You’re frightened you might burst entirely.

“I’m gonna come,” you whimper. It’s a warning to you but for him, it’s a promise. Your head tilts back again, face scrunched in a gentle sort of horror, like you’re scared at how good you feel. “Please don’t stop. Oh my god, Eds— Please don’t stop. Please, please, please—”

Eddie presses a gentle kiss to the buzzing skin of your cheek. He whispers his slurred promises there, too. “I’m not gonna stop, sweetheart. Not gonna stop until you want me to, ‘kay? Not until you’re pushing me away. Wanna make you come so many times you can’t take it—”

You clenched around him at his words. His fingers, trapped in your velvet, struggle to move within you as you tighten. The thumb on your clit works you through your orgasm.

Your mouth hangs open in a silent moan while your hand grips his wrist something fierce. Pleasure builds and builds and builds, striking you like lightning so suddenly, and reducing you to a shuddering mess on the picnic table in front of him.

“There you go,” Eddie whispers in your ear through his own trembling breaths. “Yeah, keep going for me— keep coming.”

You comply.

You don’t have much of a choice in the matter, anyway.

Your orgasm runs over you like a dozen fucking freight trains. You’re caught in your own riptide of pleasure, drowning in it with no way of getting out. With no choice but to endure it, you whine and writhe against him while his hand stays trapped between your trembling thighs. It forces you to feel all of it until you can’t take it anymore. Just like he promised.

The pleasure passes. The vice-like grip your pussy had on his fingers lessens. The high fades. But Eddie keeps going. You don’t feel much of it at first, still pleasantly numb and buzzing, then you realize how sensitive you are.

He crooks his fingers faster, rubbing against the swollen spot inside you, while the pad of his thumb presses steadily against your clit.

You’re sloppy and wet and still gushing from the fading orgasm. A second one wouldn’t be too hard to reach, not with Eddie touching you the way he is just now, but you’re scared that it might be too much.

The I can barely see, we need to lay down a towel, hold me while I float into subspace sort of too much.

“Mm-mm,” you hum softly in protest, twitching against him while you squeeze his wrist. You feel his fingers still within you.

A lazy smile plays on your lips as you tilt your face towards an orange sun, all fucked out and beautiful. Eddie could stare at you for ages and find something new to love.

“No more. I need… Need a break.”

You shudder when his fingers drag slowly out of you, trying hard not to jostle you too much. The pads of them have started to prune slightly. His ring and middle finger stick together with a mixture of your come, he separates them to watch your honey stretch and break apart.

He doesn’t know what to do with them. If he should wipe them on his jeans, or if that would be too barbaric of him. If he should stick them in his mouth to finally get a taste of you, or if you might think that’s too much.

You beat him to the punch, just like you always do, as you grab him by the wrist and bring his fingers to your mouth. Your eyes are still half-closed as you run your tongue over his skin, sucking at them like they were his cock — god, he wishes it were his cock.

He watches you with his own heavy gaze and an agape plump pink mouth, stunned at how you could do something so sexy without thinking. He has no idea how you manage to find ways to become more beautiful just when he thinks you’ve run out.

When you pull off of him, you do it all slow, like you’re teasing him. A soft, wet pop sounds when your lips leave his fingers. You smile like a fucking minx at him when you do.

“Was that— Was that good for you?” Eddie asks you with a nervous, doe-eyed chocolate button gaze. You’re unsure how he could make you feel so good and then worry that it still wasn’t enough.

“It was perfect, Eds,” you promise, then joke: “If you don’t believe me… believe the wet spot you made me leave on this fucking table.”

It makes both of you laugh like a pair of lovesick idiots.

Your hands rise to his jaws, fingers getting lost in his wild curls as you drag him to you again.

He keeps a pair of steady hands on your hips as you lick hungrily into his mouth, kissing him like you haven’t gotten tired of kissing him yet. And when you part, you leave one, two, three more pecks against his lips.

“So… This is what you came out here for, huh?” Eddie jokes with his signature stupid grin that you want to kiss all over again. “You didn’t even want the weed, you just wanted to use me. I’m wounded, sweetheart. Truly.”

“Mm-mm,” you shake your head with your bottom lip caught between your teeth. “Came out here to see you… This part was just a bonus.”

He happily accepts the kiss you give him, though he tenses against you when your hands travel from his jaw and to his chest, trickling down his torso like drops of rain until they rest on his belt.

“Something tells me you don’t mind either way,” you murmur against him when your palm settles against his hard cock trapped in his tight jeans.

He can hardly hear you, though, too trapped in his own head.

He can’t fuck you out here, not like this.

Maybe it’s too stereotypical for a virgin, but he wants his first time with you to be on a real bed and not some bench that threatens you with splinters. He wants to wine and dine you, and treat you right like he’s supposed to, not fuck you in the middle of nowhere like you’re a plaything he can do whatever he wants with.

But he doesn’t know how to tell you all this, so he parts from you with a wet click and shakes his head. “You don’t— You don’t have to—”

“I want to, Eds,” you assure him. “I promise.”

“I can’t… I mean, I guess, I’m not really…” he stammers out. He has no idea what to say to you, totally at a loss of how to turn you down. The way you clutch his covered dick, make his toes curl in his sneakers and his brain go all stupid, doesn’t exactly help either.

“What?” you tease with a light-hearted chuckle as you squeeze his rock-solid cock through the denim. “Not really hard?”

“No, it’s just…” he breathes out a laugh, or rather tries to.

He watches with wide and frightened eyes as you work at his belt buckle, struggling to unfasten it without his assistance. There’s a tug-of-war playing in his brain right now, because he wants you — he wants you so bad — but not like this.

Not when he hasn’t been completely honest with you.

It’s not fair to either of you.

Least of all when he has to turn you away without explaining why.

“I don’t think we— we really shouldn’t,” he tries to let you down easy, but to you it just sounds like he’s being coy, playing with you so you’ll beg to suck his cock. And you keep on going because you’re not totally above that. “No, really. I can’t— seriously, stop. We need to stop.”

The sudden firmness in his voice makes you still. Eddie’s never talked to you like that before. The stern, foreign words he spits at you tells you that he’s serious.

You jerk away from him like he’s burned you.

Embarrassment sets fire to your face.

“Sorry. I just— I thought that— I just wanted to return the favor,” you stammer out in an apology, frightened you’ve crossed a line with him.

No one’s ever turned down a blowjob from you before. Most times, that’s all guys want.

“No, yeah, I know,” Eddie nods understandingly when he sees how you’ve started to shrink into yourself. He steps back from you and tucks his belt back through the loop of his jeans “I just… I— I have more customers coming… And everything, so…”

“Right.”

“Yeah. And I don’t really, you know— I don’t want them to see…” he trails off with a shrug because that’s easier than saying, I don’t want them to see you sucking my dick. No one deserves to see you like that. That’s for my eyes only.

It would’ve been something short of a compliment had he said it out loud. You would’ve blushed with a shy, cheeky smile — “For your eyes only, huh?” you would’ve teased like you weren’t enlightened by the prospect of belonging to him and him only.

But because he doesn’t say that, you take on a whole other meaning to his words. I don’t want them to see me with the town whore, you can imagine him thinking. I might be the freak, but being associated with the slut would be a whole new low.

Maybe it’s irrational thinking, but it wouldn’t be the first time it’s happened to you. The fear has turned into a full-blown phobia.

You’ve made a boogeyman out of the clothes in your closet because you’re so frightened of him leaving you. And he doesn’t even fucking belong to you.

“Right,” you echo with a nod. “Okay.”

You find it suddenly hard to meet his gaze as you slip off the bench, sliding your panties back into place before pulling your skirt down again.

You’re so deep in your own head, wallowing in your woe, that when Eddie leans down to kiss you, you jerk away from on instinct. Like your body’s telling you not to play with fire, something that’s destined to burn you.

Because Eddie can’t ever belong to you. In some ways, you can’t really belong to him either, not when you’ve belonged to half of Hawkins.

But your wordless rejection sends a shock to his heart, a bolt of blue that pierces the beating organ. Your denial feels like heartbreak and you can see the anguish coat his features. He looks at you look a wounded puppy, glassy eyes going wide and thick brows frowning softly as he wonders what he did so wrong.

You kiss him anyway, if only to tell him that he didn’t do anything wrong — that it’s all you and your stupid brain that won’t let you enjoy a good thing while you’ve got it. It’s the briefest little peck, a brush of your lips against his, and it has his mouth tingling anyway.

“I’ll call you later?” he says to you, though it comes out as more of a question than he intended it to.

You shrug with pursed lips, then try your best to smile. “Whatever you want.”

Eddie watches you walk away and feels like an idiot to let you go.

He can tell that he’s upset you. You’ve had too many shitty experiences with guys not to be weary of another, and he knows that.

But he also knows he’s a total fucking coward — he’s always ran away from things, never towards something. Because that shit? — That shit was fucking scary, even for a so-called devil-worshipping freak.

But he finds himself hurrying towards you anyway.

His raggedy sneakers practically float on air as something short of muscle memory carries him towards you before you can get too far away.

And when he reaches you, he takes you by the arm, spins you and pulls you towards him. You barely get the chance to blink before he presses his mouth against yours.

He cradles you by the neck, resting large palms on either side of it, as he slots his lips against yours. And he does that thing where he just rests his kiss there, just feels you.

Eddie notices when you relax against him. You sigh against his cupid’s bow, your hands fall to his waist, and you melt totally into him. Your lips untangle slowly and tingle when he parts from you. You know you’ll be feeling him there all night… there and everywhere else.

“I’m gonna call you later,” he tells you, voice confident and unwavering.

He hopes you understand what he really means by them — whatever you want, you’d said when you saw how unsure he was. And now he’s telling you what he wants, not to make some stupid phone call, but that he wants you.

He can tell you get the hint when you smile at him. It looks like the pinky-orange sunset that bathes you in warm-colored hues.

You nod. “I’ll be waiting.”

have any more virgin!eddie thoughts? or just thoughts about my writing/requests in general? leave them here if you want! ꒰◍ᐡᐤᐡ◍꒱

#virgin!eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #virgin!eddie munson x reader #published by bug

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gojos-thot-patrol · 9 months

Text

Now Presenting...

Starring: A Love-Sick Nanami Kento

Synopsis:You and Nanami have been friends for benefits for quite a while now, with no issue! At least, no issue as far as you knew. Kento's caught feelings for you though, and even though he knows he should stay away and get over this crush, he simply can't ignore your 1:45 am "You Up?" text.

Warning: This fic is a drabble containing angst (if ya squint), fluff, and is really just smut with some plot thrown in. Rating NC17, Reader Discretion is advised ;)

Oh, and if you'd like, why not check out my Masterlist?

Nanami was awake again. It was 1:45 in the morning, and he was awake. Fuck. He sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes. He wondered if he should just give up the fight; accept that he was just going to be tired in the morning and indulge his Netflix binging demons. He sighed in defeat, grabbing the remote. Before he could turn anything on though, his phone vibrated next to him. He grabbed it before his brain could fully register what he was doing.

It was 1:45 in the morning. Only one person in the world was going to text him at 1:45 in the morning. He checked his messages and yep. Just as he was expecting.

One New Message from Darling: hey, you awake?

Nanami was pretty sure he was worth more than a generic “You Up” text. In fact, He knew he was. And he knew that responding to that text was the worst possible thing he could do at that moment. He wanted far more out of this than she ever would. Catching feelings was probably the second stupidest thing a person could do, preceded only by continuing to sleep with the person you have one sided feelings for. He wouldn’t do that to himself.

Yeah, I’m up. Why are you awake?

God damn it Kento. He cursed himself silently for doing this to himself again. One day one day he would grow a spine strong enough to put his phone down when she messaged, or at least put it on silent. But apparently that day was clearly not today. He groaned softly as he propelled himself out of bed, grabbing a shirt to throw on. The first top he touched was an ancient Tool shirt from when he was still in college. He thought about grabbing something nicer, but ultimately threw it on. Not like he’d be wearing it for long anyway. He did manage to put on jeans to look at least a little more put together.

Darling: I’m thinking about you ;) I got a bottle of Blue Label that’s been begging me to open it. Wanna come help me drink it?

Not really. Nanami wasn’t a huge fan of blended scotch. He knew this, he knew you knew this. But, it wasn’t about the scotch, was it?

Johnnie Walker? I’m already on my way.

He hoped the sarcasm read through the text. He hoped the sarcasm didn’t read through the text. He didn’t really know what he hoped for honestly. What he did know was that he wanted to be with you. He was also pretty sure you didn’t want to be with him in the same way, and that he should at least try to get some distance. He wanted to get over this crush. He didn’t want to get over this crush. He grabbed his keys, deciding he’d sort out his tangled emotions some other time.

🥀🥀🥀

He always felt silly trying to get his nerves together long enough to knock on your door. He was a fully grown man getting butterflies at the thought of being with a girl, it was silly! But, at the same time, it wasn’t just a girl. It was Y/n. It was a girl who had always been there with him, and supported him though some of the darker times in his life. The girl he thought he was going to marry back when he was in highschool. The girl he wouldn’t mind wifing up now if she gave him the chance. But, why would she? He took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

You were all smiles when you opened the door, wearing a sleep set Nanami knew you didn’t actually sleep in. It was small, and clung to you perfectly, only a few steps away from being basically lingerie. It made him proud to know you wore it for him.

“Well hello Gorgeous,” He smiled, placing a hand on your hip and leaning in to kiss your cheek, “Do you always get dressed up so pretty to go to sleep?” He teased.

“Nope, only when I’m expecting company.” You giggled, moving out of the door to let him in.

“You get company in the middle of the night often?” He asked as he sat on your couch, trying to hide his absolutely unfounded jealousy.

“Check your phone if you really want the answer.” you said as you closed the door and joined him on the sofa. He chuckled softly, happy to know he was your only late night visitor. You smiled as you curled into his side, taking in his familiar warmth. He wrapped his arm around you to pull you closer. “I didn’t wake you up, did I?” You asked.

“No, not at all,” He assured you, “You know I don’t sleep anyway.” He joked. He’d struggled with insomnia and night terrors for years. If anything, the distraction alone was welcome.

“You really should work on that,” you joked, “Sleep is important you know.”

“You're one to talk,” he laughed, “You’re up too you know.”

“Hey, I tried to go to sleep!” You protested with a giggle, “It’s not my fault I woke up. I had a dream.”

“Is that so?” Nanami asked, tilting his head at you in amusement. “And what were you dreaming about, Beautiful?” you grinned and bit your lip, deciding to use this opportunity to take some initiative. You moved to placed yourself on top of

him, putting one of your legs on either side of his hips and placing your hands on his shoulders for balance.

“I was dreaming about you Kento,” You purred softly to him. He smiled, placing his hands firmly on your hips to keep you stable. God, you always looked gorgeous from this view. It was his favorite way to have you.

“Were you now Princess?” He muttered, “What were we doing in your dream?”

“This.” You said, leaning down to kiss him. Smooth. He chuckled softly before pulling you in closer, pulling your bottom lip into his teeth. You gasped softly at the gentle pain, and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss.

There was something undeniably right about kissing Nanami. The way his mouth fit perfectly against yours, the way his soft lips moved, how he always tasted like strong tea and mint. You would kiss Nanami for an eternity if the world would have let you. And he would have happily obliged.

His left hand glided up from your hip to tangle in your hair. He gave it a quick, sharp tug, lighting a fire in your core and pulling a soft moan from your throat. Nanami chuckled softly.

“You sound so pretty when you do that.” He said, his right hand moving in between your legs, leaving you clinging to his shoulders for balance. “I want to hear more.” Your shorts were small enough you might as well have not bothered with them. It was only when he moved the crotch aside that he realized why you had.

“Commando huh?” He teased, “It’s almost like you were expecting this.”

“Oh shut up-!” You tried to laugh, but Nanami’s thick fingers running up your slit cut your words off.

“Oh, I’m sorry Princess, were you saying something? I didn’t quite catch that.” He smirked, swirling tight circles into your puffy clit. You could feel the slick gather between your legs, killing any retort you had before it escaped your lips. Nanami knew your body better than anyone else you’d ever been with, and took every opportunity he could to remind you of that fact when the two of you were together.

Every movement of his digits sent another wave of illicit electricity through you and to your core. Wave after wave, building up into a riptide pleasure threatening to take you underneath it. You moaned out shakily, your nails digging into his shoulders as you gripped him tighter, getting lost in ecstasy.

And Nanami couldn’t get enough of the sight. You always looked breathtaking, but something about watching you come undone on top of him always set his heart into overdrive. “Fuck, you look so pretty.” He muttered to you, “Feel good?” He asked. You nodded to him. You had about one good sentence left in you, and you wanted to use it for this.

“P-please Sir…wanna cum on your cock..” You whimpered to him, looking up at him from under long lashes. Fuck. Kento was honestly lucky he didn’t cum right then and there in his jeans. You always knew exactly what to say to leave him even further wrapped around your finger, a slave to your every beck and call.

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” He grinned. He took the opportunity to rip the crotch of your shorts in two, giving him much easier access. You didn’t really care about losing the cheap set, much more interested in unbuttoning Kentos jeans and getting his cock into you. You bit your lip as you got him out. You wouldn’t say this about many guys, but Kento genuinely had a pretty dick.

His hands found your hips, and despite his better judgment his eyes met yours as he guided you down onto his length. This was always his favorite part, the part that played on repeat in his head on nights when you didn’t text him. Watching the way your eyes screwed shut, how you bit your lip, the sharp breath you pulled in as you braced for impact. Fuck. He let out a shaky moan as he finally pushed into you, your velvety walls pulling him even further in.

“Kento, fuck” You moaned out, sharp spikes of pleasure rippled out from your core as he graced your g-spot. You could feel yourself quiver around him. You were so close earlier, you knew you weren’t going to last long now.

“Jesus christ, you belong in a museum.” Kento mumbled as he took in your features. You were a piece of art to be praised and prized, and he fully intended to make you believe that you were. He bucked his hips up, and you saw stars.

“You feel so good Sir,” You muttered, tangling your fingers into Nanami’s hair and pressing your forehead to his. Every movement of his hips sent another wave of euphoria through you, only intensifying the tsunami building up inside of you and pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

Nanami was lost. He could feel his heart rate picking up, and it wasn’t from the physical activity he was performing. You were so close, too close. Your soft breathy moans filled his ears, your scent filled his lungs. You felt so, so perfect in his arms. He was convinced only you could make such a sinful act look so divine. Against his will, thoughts of your laugh and your smile entered his mind.

Memories of the two of you working perfectly together, celebrating all the events in your life together, big and small. You may have seen a friend when you looked at him, or worse, a late night hook up. But when he looked at you, he saw the woman he wanted to build a life with.

“God, you're perfect Y/n,” He whispered to you, “You’re so fucking good for me, so pretty. So fucking sweet and kind, and fuck. I love you Y/n.”

FUCK.

“Wai, wha?” You slurred, trying to look at him. Nanami was quick though, flipping you off of him and onto your hands and knees before you could see his panicked eyes. He did not just fucking say that, motherfucker Kento! What were you thinking?!

“I said, I fucking love your cunt,” He rasped out, ramming into you with enough force to hopefully knock the memory out of your mind. You found your face shoved into one of your decorative pillows while he rammed into you from behind. The new angle left you screaming profanities into the pillow. Every push of his hips set your blood on fire, creating an inferno inside your core that threatened to burn you alive.

“Kento!” You yelled out.

“Yea, that’s right Princess, say it again.” Nanami said, trying to distract himself from his colossal mistake. It wasn’t hard to do when your pussy was gripping him like a vice, pulling him right back in every time he pulled out. He held your hips tight enough to leave bruises you could take fingerprints off of. He wanted you to remember he was there when he was gone.

“Kento, please, I-I’m close..” You stuttered out, feeling the knot in your stomach get tighter and tighter.

“Is that right pretty girl?” He asked, pushing into you with a vengeance. This was probably going to be the last time you called him over, he was going to make the most of it. His right hand slipped down your body, and two of his fingers found your clit. He massaged expert circles into it, pulling a truly embarrassing moan from you. His every move sent your nervous system into overdrive. Your head was filling with fluff and your blood felt explosive.

“Then come on. Cum all over my cock like the dirty girl you are.” Something in his words and everything in his movements sang to your pleasure receptors. A few more swirls from his fingers and a few more thrusts of his hips and you were coming undone. The knot inside your stomach exploded into a thousand waves of pleasure and oxytocin. You swear you saw white as the tsunami overtook you.

And Nanami wasn’t that far behind. The way you seized around him, your warm walls enveloping him and trying to pull him impossibly further in undid him. He barely managed to pull out, cumming all over your back and ass as he did. It was a pretty fucking sight. He would have taken a picture if he was about 40% more coherent.

You collapsed face first onto the couch, and Nanami braced himself on the back, still breathing hard. His confession was still ringing in his head. Did you buy his lie? Probably not. You were smarter than that.

Fuck.

Once his breathing started to regulate, he finally stood up, fixing his pants and going to your bathroom. He returned not long later with a warm, damp washcloth, cleaning up the mess he made on your back. You groaned out softly.

“Sorry about the mess.” He muttered once you were cleaned up. His fingers gently traced the outline of your spine before he patted you gently. “Come on, let's get you to bed.” He muttered.

He threw the rag in your hamper as he got you into your bed. “Stay with me?” You muttered softly. Oh, good. That probably meant you didn’t hear his confession. Or you did and were completely okay with leading him on forever. But, that wasn’t like you. He nodded and laid down next to you, pulling you into his arms. He knew he shouldn’t. He knew it was only going to make things worse for him in the end. But he couldn't help it. All he ever wanted was to be close to you.

“Hey Kento?” You muttered softly.

“Yea Y/n?” He asked softly.

“I love you too.”

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