#or maybe they're just recordings of her voice
Text
Why did she do that
Imagine witnessing the horrors then going to your computer to write about it and just
"no No NOOOO" yeah that's a nice summary of what I felt in the moment
Based on something I tweeted about earlier
She took her sweet time to write that and that's honestly iconic
#or maybe they're just recordings of her voice#that would make more sense#but this is funnier#and she would be like that#live tweeting the horrors#undertale#sunsest-art#art#alphys#alphys undertale#alphys fanart
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"Something is really wrong with Steve," Robin says.
The party look up, startled. They wait for her to continue, but she starts pacing nervously. It immediately sets the kids on edge, glancing at each other uneasy.
"What do you mean?" Dustin eventually speaks up. "Is he... ill?"
"No, no, it's... his parents came home, right?"
"Yeah, we know," Max snorts. "Dustins mom had to ban him from the house because he wouldn't leave."
"He can't avoid them forever," Dustin points out. "I get that it's hard to talk to them when you have to lie all the time but they're, like, paying for all his shit."
"No they aren't!" Robins voice cracks. "They cut him off years ago! Dude, he hates them and now he's writing up a resignation letter so he can go work for his dad."
"Why is that a bad thing?" El asks, eyes a little wide.
"He'd have to train for a few months in New York for one."
"New York?!" All of them burst out. They all try to speak at once, loud and panicked. They're so loud that Hopper bursts out, confused and tired and panicked.
"What the hell is going on?" He snaps.
The kids all look a little guilty. El stands up so he looks at her. "We are worried about Steve."
"What? Jeez, that's what you're yelling about?"
"He's moving away!" Mike snaps. "To New York! For months!"
Hopper frowns at him like he's not making sense. "New York?"
"To work with his dad," Robin adds. "I didn't know if I should talk him out-"
"They're back?" Hopper asks. He's gone still, voice devoid of emotion and dangerously calm. "How long?"
"A month? Maybe more, it-"
"And they're home now? Do you know if Steve is there with them? It's not one of his shifts, is it? That'd make it easier."
"What? No, he's home. Make what easier?"
Hopper ignores the question, grabbing his coat and shoes. "Stay here, I won't be long."
He ignores the questions that grow frantic and panicked when he picks up his gun, stomping out the door at a fast pace. Robin is yelling from the door as he climbs into his car. She's too taken aback to even begin to think of how to answer to avalanche of questions the kids throw at her.
Hopper gets to the Harrington house in record time, having sped just a little to get there. Mrs Harrington is the one who opens the door and looks a little guilty when she sees him.
"Where is he?" Hopper asks.
She steps back, letting him in. "In his room."
Hopper pushes past her, taking the stairs two at a time. Steve is sat at his desk when he enters the room without knocking, head snapping up and looking startled. He looks a little ashamed when he realizes that it's Hopper.
"Hop," Steves voice is strained. He frowns when Hopper ignores him, pulling his closet open. "Uh, Hopper? What are you doing?"
"Taking you home," Hopper mutters. He pulls out the three bags he knows Steve has been keeping hidden, just in case. "Come on, pack up."
"I can't just-"
"Yes you can. Pack. Up."
Steve only hesitates for a moment. He slowly fills up one with his few sentimental things and some things he considers important (his scoops uniform, the drawings from Will). Hopper stuffs the other two with clothes. It doesn't take them long.
"I'll come back for the rest, if you want any of it," Hopper hands Steve his car keys, waving him toward the stairs. "Wait in the car. I'll be a minute."
Steve hesitates at the door, glancing between Hopper and his mom. He leaves though, doesn't say goodbye.
"Right, here's what's going to happen; I'm going to come back for the rest of his things. I've seen that room, I'll know if somethings missing. And that shit is his, don't try to bullshit me." Hopper eyes her with visible distaste. "He's an adult now. You can't take him back and if I hear that either of you've been trying to harass him again, I'll press charges."
She nods, which is enough of an answer for him. He throws the two bags in the back with the third before climbing in the drivers seat. The air is thick with tension as he pulls out the drive, starting the drive back to the cabin.
"Um... could you, uh, drop me off at the trailer park?" Steve asks, quiet and timid in a way that is horribly familiar to Hopper. "I, uh... I need to see Eddie."
Hopper grunts. He grits his teeth to stop himself snapping. It wouldn't be fair on Steve. So he drives him there, quiet and tense.
"Thanks," Steve mumbles.
But Hopper climbs out too, gently grabbing Steves jacket lapels to drag him over to the Munsons trailer. Hopper knocks.
"Oh," Waynes eyebrows raise. He looks Hopper up and down before turning his eyes on Steve, who he gives a soft smile. "Harrington, you doing alright?"
"No," Hopper answers for him. "Could we come in for a moment?"
"Sure?" Wayne shuffles out the way, shutting the door behind them. "Eddie's in his room, if you want me to get him?"
"You want your boy to see?" Hopper asks Steve.
Steve ducks his head, fiddling with the sleeves of his jacket. He mutters, "he probably will anyway."
"Ok. Do you want him here for this?"
"Here for what?" Eddie asks, hovering in the doorway, worried. "What's happened?"
"Nothing," Steve tries to say. "It's... really, it's nothing."
"Steve," Hopper calmly says. Waits for Steve to look back at him, simply raises an eyebrow. "Where?"
"Hopper, it's fine, really."
"Where?"
Steve tries to stare him down, unsuccessfully. He huffs, annoyed, glancing at Wayne and Eddie who, understandably, look confused.
He slowly takes his jacket off, keeping his eyes on the floor. There's a sharp intake of breath when the dark, almost black, bruises on his arms are revealed. They litter the entirety of both arms, the ones around his left wrist and right bicep standing out the most- the ones shaped like hands.
"Steve," Eddie whispers, walking forward slowly. He's careful, brushing his fingers against his skin. "Oh, baby, who did this?"
"It's fine," Steve tries to insist.
Hopper clears his throat though. "Where else?"
Steve doesn't try to argue this time. He grabs the back of his collar, lifting his top off. His ribs have the worst of his bruises.
"Fuck," Eddie carefully, gently, pulls Steve into a hug. Presses gentle, ever so soft kisses to his neck. His hand is just as gentle when he rubs his back. Steve clings to him, grip looking almost painful, but Eddie doesn't complain.
Hopper turns to Wayne, who is also pointedly looking away so the two can have their moment. "His parents are gonna try to find him. Direct them to me if they try here."
"Don't worry about Steve," Wayne glances at the pair, still wrapped around each other, at the bruises. "Worry about them. If they try to come by here, they'll be leaving in a body bag. I'm sick of assholes treating my kids like this."
Hopper looks over at Eddie, who's pulling back so he can hold Steves face, eyes painfully understanding. He nods at Wayne, pats his shoulder. "I'm getting the rest of his stuff, he's got no reason to go back there. It's my cabin he's coming home to."
"I'll drive him there myself," Wayne glances at the pair, who think they're being subtle and sneaky as they giggle their way towards Eddies room. "Tomorrow."
Hopper chuckles, glancing towards the hall the two disappeared down. "Tomorrow."
#stranger things#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie#jim hopper#ficlet#angst#steves asshole parents#well#hopper and wayne are steves real parents now#hurtcomfort
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I can't sleep
Ran x good girl!reader
Do i want a bad boy (literal criminal) bf? Yea but i would probably cry if he insulted me or got into trouble in any capacity at all
(i am totally not unironically vibing to pretty little psycho while writing this)
edit: i made a part 2!!
"I dare you to kiss Haitani Ran." Your friend nudged you.
You knew you shouldn't have agreed to this stupid game of truth or dare. You knew your friend was going to make you do stupid stuff like this.
"Like... the big scary delinquent guy?" You asked, hoping you heard her wrong.
"Yeah, that Haitani Ran." Your friend smirked mischeviously.
"How about I don't do that?" The last thing you'd want to do is get involved wth any delinquents or gangs. You have no idea how dangerous Ran could be and even if he wasn't you'd still refuse to kiss a good for nothing delinquent.
"Are you trying to get me killed?" you followed up, realising just how bad this dare could end up.
"You do know that refusing this dare means that you have to do anything I say for a week, right?" Your friend had a horribly evil look on her face. You don't even want to know the things she would make you do if you refused this stupid dare.
But is kissing Ran any better? Pick your poison, you suppose.
"Fine, I'll do it." You said behind clenched teeth, not at all happy about this outcome. You've never even kissed before, and now you have to kiss freaking Ran Haitani. You might actually die.
Why did you agree? What is wrong with you?
This might just be the worst day of your life.
You ended up being a little unfocused in class, making your teacher worry.
.
"Haitani-san." you call out to him, your voice dying off slightly at the end due to nerves. You're the only ones left in the classroom, with your friend watching from behind the door to make sure you actually do it. He looks back at you and you feel a shiver run through you.
Oh my god, you're actually doing this.
He stops, waiting to see what you want with him. You move closer to him, and his eyes narrow slightly, as if he's getting a good look at you.
"Now, what could the class president herself possibly want with me?" his tone was slightly mocking and you would have showed him you're not to be messed with but honestly you'd probably be the one losing in that scenario.
You inhaled sharply, pulling him down by his braids and planting a kiss straight onto his lips. This feels like a bad shojo plot, the "good girl" falls in love with the "bad boy" and kisses him all of a sudden. Except there's no romance involved here. Just a dare.
Is this how you kiss? Why does it feel so strange? That should be enough, right? You can feel your parents shaking their heads dissaprovingly already.
Ok, now you're just kissing him for way too long. It's time to let go. And you try to, you really do. Since when were his arms wrapped around your waist, anyways? And why isn't he letting you go?!
You can feel your friend's evil stare burning into your back. This is not amusing!
He laughed a little into the kiss, pulling you impossibly closer. Oh, so they're both going to enjoy your suffering now, you see how it is.
Still, kissing him isn't half ba-
Ok, you're actually losing it. You need out and fast.
You wriggled out of his grasp, running away as fast as your legs could take you. You heard both Ran and your friend yell something behind you but you honestly don't care.
Why did you ever agree to do this?!
.
That same thought persisted even as you tossed and turned in bed that night.
"Oh god, he's going to send his goons after me and I'm gonna die... And then I won't ever get to become successful..." you muttered to yourself.
"Or maybe he's gonna come and kill me myself after school tommorow... Ugh..." you can't come to school tired, you won't be able to pay attention in class that way. You can't ruin your perfect record by falling asleep in class.
Who cares about the perfect record?! You should be worried for your life!
"And what is that stupid noise, anyways?" you muttered, grumbling and getting up to inspect the source. Another stone hits the window, making you jump slightly. You walk to the window and open it, narrowly avoiding a stone that was thrown your way.
"Sorry!~"
Wait. You'd recognise that voice anywhere.
It's Ran.
"What are you doing here? How did you even get my adress?" you half yelled, not wanting to wake up your parents.
"You shouldn't sweat the little things. Come downstairs." he was smiling calmly, but you still couldn't tell if he was threatening you. Actually, is that his motorcycle parked next to him?
"You should probably put on a jacket too. It's real cold." he added on, and you nervously closed the window, quietly sneaking downstairs and putting on a jacket. Your pyjamas are not the most presentable, but you really don't want to test his patience right now.
You met him outside. What is he going to do to you now?
"Get on." he pointed to his bike, catching you off guard.
"Not without a helmet, riding a motorcycle without one can be really dangerous and you could lose your life." you couldn't help but bring up safety regulations. It's in your nature.
"I told you, don't sweat the details and just sit down." he completely ignored you, pushing you in the direction of the bike. You complied, sitting down on it awkwardly, not sure what to expect. He doesn't seem violent...
He sat down behind you, revving up the engine and just driving off without a care in the world.
"W-Wait!" you were shocked at the speed, grabbing onto him by instinct and missing the way his lips curved up at that.
"Where are you taking me?! I never consented to this!" you had to yell over the sound of the engine, shutting your eyes. He was right, it really is cold when you're riding on a motorcycle.
"And you know what I didn't consent to? That kiss." he replied and your face scrunched up a little, cringing at the not so distant memory. "But that's fine, because that means you're mine now."
"Huh?!" you finally opened your eyes, looking up at him. His expression was a little hard to make out since the only thing illuminating it was street lights that you were speeding past. Is he even following the speed limit?
"I value my sleep, you see. And that little stunt you pulled made me unable to fall asleep. So I figured I might as well give you a little visit." he placed a hand over you protectively, making you worry about your safety even more.
"Who would have thought the top of the class good girl would fall for me?" he looked down at you.
"I did not fall in love with you! It was a dare!" you shot back.
"Oh well, doesn't matter. You're my girl now. And that's that."
#˗ˏˋ ★ ♡ 「Wolfie’s other works」 ♡ ★ ˎˊ˗#writing this at midnight really puts u in the mood huh#tokyorev x reader#tokyorev x you#tokyo revengers x you#tokyo rev x reader#tokyo rev x you#tokyo revengers#ran haitani#haitani brothers#haitani ran x reader#haitani ran x you#haitani ran x y/n#ran x reader#ran x you#ran x y/n#ran haitani x reader#ran haitani x you#ran haitani x y/n#tokyo revengers x reader#x fem reader#female reader
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Hi lovely!
Can you please do one where Hotch and Reader are in a fight and it gets heated and he maybe raises his hand just because he’s shouting and she flinches?
He would be prepared to FIGHT whoever made his honey feel that way 🗣️🗣️
💘
for you my sweetheart. fem, 1k
cw implied past domestic violence
“It was right,” you're saying, on the defensive, your voice molten, “it was the thing to do!”
“It wasn't.” Hotch closes the door. “It wasn't the right thing to do, it wasn't even close.”
You realise, under everything, that he's right, but you couldn't help yourself, you had to try and save the day, had to swerve the SUV. Plus, he's done it himself, and you both know that. “If Monikie got out of that exit we never would've seen her again.”
“There were roadblocks on the I–46, and I don't think I have to tell you that you could've gotten a lot of people seriously hurt–”
“You've done worse,” you deny.
His expression, broadly furious, narrows into something sharper, “And that is my decision to make, but you report to me.”
“You can't seriously want to act like a boss now,” you say.
The room isn't overly large, and so you stand close to one another with no need for shouting, but your voices begin to overlap. Hotch is so angry. It isn't like him to yell at you, his voice strained.
“You can't truly think that the decision you made today was the right one. You need to calm down, and you need to listen to me when I tell you that this was the wrong move. We'll talk about it more tomorrow.”
“You're shrugging me off?” You could laugh. “You can't be serious. Every member of this team has done the same, or worse–”
“But they're not you!” His voice peeks, his hand jolting out in front of his chest, flat-palmed in incredulity.
You're really quite close to each other.
It's not his fault.
You step back, desperate to be away from the movement, the hand, because it doesn't register as his hand, only there's a chair behind you and a table behind that and you bump into the plastic with a creak and screech. You're righting yourself as quickly as you're tripping but Hotch is already moving away. Three steps that feel like a gorge.
Your heartbeat soars.
“Are you okay?” he asks quietly.
“Of course.” You breathe out funny. It's not his fault, but there's something wired in your brain now, and it knows that the first strike isn't the last. Your hand shakes as you brush at an inch under your eyes.
“I'm not mad,” he says.
“You sounded pretty mad."
“I've changed my mind.” He gives you a long hard look, and then he moves to the office door to open it before returning to his initial position. He's given you an exit route. “I'm not going to hurt you,” he says.
You put your hands on your hips and bend at the waist, breathing out hard. “Fuck, I know that."
“You thought I might.”
“So profile me,” you say, panicking still, face hot and itchy all over. “Tell me why.”
“Someone's hit you before. Enough to anticipate the second blow.”
“But you knew that already, didn't you?”
Your ears get cloudy like there's water in them and you can't stand the feeling of Hotch's gaze on the back of your head. You force yourself into a standing position and try to ignore what happened.
“You're unfairly angry with me,” you say.
Hotch just shakes his head at you.
“It's… It's not a big deal,” you say, quieter. He already knew because of course he did, every member of the team gets checked. You have records, and he's in a position of power unlike most, he could've read them like the morning paper.
“Why would you say that?”
“I can still do my job.”
“I wasn't going to suggest you couldn't.”
Then why… why is he looking at you like that? You're humiliated enough, and his gaze is so… so soft. So sorry. Tears gather warm behind your eyes and your chest aches like you've been holding your breath. You frown, eyebrows lifting at the starts, not knowing if you should beg him to forget the whole thing or finally give in.
“Come here,” he says gently. Completely optional, his fingertips twitching but stationery at his side.
You stare resolutely at your shoes.
“I'm sorry I scared you, it wasn't my intention. I can imagine how it feels. I'm not mad, honey,” he says. His voice drops to a murmur, “Come here,” he pleads.
You take a clumsy handful of steps and he meets you in the middle, arms going carefully over your head. You'd feel condescended by it if it weren't shockingly nice to be considered in such a way, or if the solid mass of his arms around you didn't soothe. You feel protected rather than boxed in, held, and not restrained.
His hand slides open down the length of your back.
“I'm sorry I scared you,” he repeats, for your ears alone.
“It's not like it was really you that scared me.”
The memory scared you. The flinch was instinctive, less to do with Hotch and more to do with the connection between a moving hand and stinging pain.
He hangs his head by your ear until his nose touches your shoulder, and for a few seconds, it's just you and him together, no fighting, and no fast-approaching hands.
“You didn't scare me,” you mumble, hiding your face in his shoulder instead, forcing him to stand tall.
Incoming footsteps cut your embrace short, but he doesn't pull away too swiftly. His hands grave the lengths of your arms, and he gives you a long, loaded look. Before you can calibrate the action to the man, he's chucking you under the chin, a stroke of his index knuckle, a promise of more to say.
He catches Morgan before he can enter the room and directs him back out. “Take a minute,” he advises you.
You sit in a chair and do as he's offered. Memory is a tricky thing.
#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x y/n#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotchner blurb#aaron hotchner drabble#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotchner fanfic#aaron hotchner fanfiction#hotch x reader#hotch#hotch x you#hotch blurb#hotch drabble
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GETO FINGERING YOU 🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼
DETENTION
↳ GETO すぐる + fem!reader
Note : GOD YES 🤤 srry i am late but i hope this satisfies ur craving hehe
Summary : just a bad boy giving you a hand in detention
Warnings : daddy/good girl dynamic, fingering, squirting, semi-public (in detention), finger sucking, hints to 3sum idea with his bff
Playme : detention
🍒 More from Jay : GETO works / JJK works
"S-S—Suguruuu, harder... please. Moremoremore!" you beg in a hoarse voice.
"Hmmm? Did I hit a sweet spot?" he makes a toothy smirk, dark eyes lighting up at your reaction to the stimulation.
You nod. He pumps his fingers harder, eliciting an eye-roll of pleasure from you that he savors. He knows he's doing something right when he's got you acting out like this.
It's just you and him in detention; the goody-two-shoes student and the bad boy delinquent with chipped black nails and a terrible record.
Your thighs are spread out wide on the desk as he leans his body close, reaching knuckle deep and curling his thick fingers up into a gummy spot that makes you shudder and grip his bicep.
"Ouh, Fuck! Sugu—"
"Quiet, quiet..." he hushes you immediately, his words entering your mouth as his lips graze over yours.
"You don't want to get caught being a slut for me in detention, do you?" he asks rhetorically.
He smirks to himself, thinking;
Surely she doesn't... that would put a dent in her spotless record, wouldn't it? Fucking around with someone like me... yeah her parents would just hate that, huh?
You pinch your bottom lip between your teeth as he hits deep strokes and massages his fingertips into your gummy walls. Your sticky juices are all over his hand because of that squirting orgasm he worked out of you earlier. Suguru mused to himself, I don't think the principle's desk appreciates getting soaked like this...
"Look at you, enjoying yourself... wonder what your parents would think if they saw you right now." Suguru grins devilishly, looking down at your pussy.
Such a snug fit... there's no way she could take my cock on the first try, I know it. I'll have to train her little hole. Maybe Satoru can help.
He's so much bigger than you. His fingers reach so much deeper than yours. They hit so much harder. And with no breaks, too. They're merciless in the pursuit of your second orgasm.
"Gonna cum and make a mess for me again? Yeah?"
"Yes! Please, pleasepleaseplease — make me cum!" you whisper frantically against him.
He chuckles when you moan, pumping his fingers faster and faster, fingering at your clit with his other hand to tip you over the edge.
He studies you intently as your orgasm builds up, oh if only he studied his textbooks as intently as this... then he wouldn't have that C grade next to his name. And maybe if he would have had the same determination in school as he does now when finding your G-spot, then he wouldn't have gotten in detention at all.
You couldn't blame him for roping you into the blame, instead you happily nodded to the principle and confessed to a stunt that you didn't even pull. And the principle half-suspected you were lying... because why would the star student be running around with the bad boy?
Suguru's dampened forehead rests against yours. He can feel the radiating heat of your cheeks in this proximity. Those dark eyes never stop staring at you, making sure you're as flustered as possible even in this pleasure-drunk state.
"Fuck... you're gushing..." he says in awe, " 'promise to lick my fingers clean after, yeah?" he rasps against you.
"Yes yes yes!" you say. He's pretty sure that you would have said yes to anything right then; you were so blissed by the way his fingers worked into your soaking hole, by the way they stretched you open just right.
"Good. Then cum all you want... quiet, quiet~"
He's got some audacity to coo you to be quiet when he's finger fucking you this loudly. The whole room fills with the squelching sound. His arm arches, and his muscles flex under his uniform shirt as he goes at it with more intensity.
"Cumminggg~" you whine in a strained voice.
"That's a good girl. Cum for me — yeahhh that's it, just cum, oh fuck — there we go, haha, squirting all over my palm again... cute."
He feels your pussy contract and squeeze like crazy around his middle and ring finger, juices wetting his hand and pants, dripping off the edge of the principle's desk to the floor...
You shake and nuzzle your face into his broad chest, letting out a broken moan — a sound that travelled straight to Suguru's cock.
"Mmm, still with me?"
"Y-yeah... fuck..."
He's pushing his fingers up deep, feeling around in slow massaging motions, savoring your tight grip. You shudder in his arms.
"Hey angel?"
You look up at him, feeling lovey-dovey because of his sweet tone.
He smiles down at you, withdrawing his fingers with a sloppy squelching little pop noise. Your hole misses him immediately, his fingers were filling you up so good.
"Mmmf." you splutter as he shoves his fingers into your mouth.
"Clean daddy's fingers, like you promised. You can do that for me, right?" he has that cocky tone just like his best friend for a second there. He can't wait to tell Satoru about how he made the popular princess squirt twice.
You nod obediently. When you start to suck his fingers, his heart flutters a bit.
"Such a tiny mouth..." he remarks, thinking about how your lips would engulf his cock instead. "Bet you couldn't handle taking all of this, hm?" he uses his free hand to bring your tinier one to palm at his bulge.
You suck harder on Suguru's fingers, and feel up the thick outline of his cock. He leans close and holds such intense eye contact that you feel entranced.
"Wanna take care of daddy's problem after detention?" he asks in a deep rasp. "I can invite Satoru to help too, if you want. What do you say, angel?"
#smut#mdni#geto#geto suguru#geto x reader#geto smut#geto suguru smut#geto x reader smut#geto x fem reader#geto x you#geto x y/n#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk geto#suguru x reader#suguru smut#suguru#x reader#female reader#fem reader
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not just on christmas
pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader
summary: steve’s parents are coming home for the holidays and he’s in need of a fake date. who better than you, his best friend?
word count: 8.2k
warnings: steve’s parents (derogatory), negative comments about his job, fake dating, friends to lovers, christmas themes, fluff, first kiss!
a/n: i had lots of fun with this one and i hope u guys like it!!! merry christmas and happy holidays i hope they treat u all well <33 consider this my gift to you :D
༄
The phone ringing forces Steve out of bed. Floors cool on his feet, the air a chill on his bare chest, he rubs his eyes lazily and picks it up.
“Hello?” He clears his throat to get rid of the sleep in his voice.
“Steve, why do you sound tired, it’s nearly noon!”
It’s no surprise that the first words aren’t asking him how he is. He’s shocked she cared enough to pick up on the tone of his voice at all. “Hi, mom.”
He doesn’t even know where she’s calling from, doesn’t know what business trip they're on. He can’t remember the last time he got a phone call that wasn’t you, or Robin, or Dustin, or anyone else other than his parents.
Steve’s not even excited to be hearing from them, because it’s a reminder that they’re not around, that they haven’t forgotten about him, they just don’t care.
He wishes you were the one that called.
“Listen, sweetie, your dad and I are coming home for Christmas this year, isn’t that great?”
He deflates, “yeah. Super.”
“There’s a business event he wants to take you to. And we’ll find you a date,” there’s the catch. There’s always a catch. “You can make some connections, maybe get out of your job at that video store soon.”
The thing is, he actually likes working at Family Video, but he knows that doesn’t matter. Then there’s the topic of the girlfriend, or lack thereof. His parents are always nagging him about when he’ll settle down, grow roots, or something.
Maybe that’s why he says, “I can get my own date. I have a girlfriend.”
“Oh! That’s fantastic! She’ll have dinner with us, won’t she? What’s her name?”
Like an idiot, he says your name. The first one that came to his mind.
You’re his best friend, and it’s easy to let his thoughts drift to you. The problem is, he has no idea how he’s going to explain this to you, how he can ask you to fake date him just to satisfy his parents for once.
If he wasn’t still on the phone, Steve would be groaning into a pillow right now.
“Okay, sweetie, your dad has a brunch we have to get to. We’ll see you soon!”
“Bye, mom. See you.”
He hangs up and sighs in relief. That feeling is quick to fade when he remembers that he had just named you his girlfriend in the midst of his phone call. He drops his face into his hands, runs them through his hair, and tries to figure out how the hell to bring up the subject with you.
To go along with that, he has to worry about his parents coming home. Though, can they really call it ‘home’ when they’ve been gone for so long? When they’ll leave again after a few days, a week at most?
Most people would be happy, excited, about their parents being around for the holidays. Steve’s not. He’d rather spend it how he has since the two of you became friends. Breakfast at your house with your family—who have become family for Steve, too—presents opened with scented candles burning and Christmas albums spun on the record player.
You went out of your way to include him, and he’s never felt so welcome in his life as he does when he’s with you.
At least, if you agree, you’ll be with him this year, too.
-
It’s the next day when Steve decides to bring it up. You’re at his house for movie night, which has become a weekly ritual for the two of you. He’s been trying to figure out what exactly to say since he hung up the damn phone. He’s given up and instead hopes it’ll come to him in the moment.
Today, Steve’s quiet, which is unlike him. You know something’s on his mind and you try to avoid asking him about it, trying to let him talk about it on his own time. It’s about halfway through the movie that you change your mind.
He didn’t complain when you showed up with your cheesy Christmas movie choice, he didn’t light-heartedly tease you about your outfit of choice (some festive patterned pajama pants and a sweater that’s so worn there are holes in the neckline), and the most unusual, he didn’t make a single joke or comment as the movie played.
He’s really, really quiet.
You pick up the remote and pause it, “what’s going on with you, Steve?”
He looks at you, catches your eye and sees nothing but genuine concern. Sometimes he hates the way you know him so well. He can never hide anything from you.
“What? Nothing.”
You blink at him, “come on.”
“Fine, okay. Just, don’t say anything until I’m done, please.”
“Okay,” you pretend to zip your mouth shut, ready to listen.
“My mom called yesterday and told me they’re coming home for Christmas, and that there’s this business thing they want me to go to, and that I need a date for it,” he scrubs a hand down his face, trying to hide his embarrassment. “And you know how they’re always on my ass about me being single and stuff so I kind of told her I already had a girlfriend, and maybe I told her that girlfriend is you.”
What?
There’s a lot to process there. Mostly the fact that out of all of the names he could have chosen, he said yours. You wait for him to explain some more, but he’s looking at you like he’s waiting for a reply, so, your mouth is now unzipped.
“So, what exactly does that mean?”
He mutters a curse under his breath. “Um, so, I need you to pretend to be my actual girlfriend while they’re here.”
His use of the word ‘need’ is telling. Steve’s not one to ask for help, not even when he needs it the most but here he is, nervous and a little pink-cheeked, asking for your help.
You let the thought sit in your head for a bit. It’s not hard for you to want to agree. Steve’s your best friend, and you’d do pretty much anything for him. Though, that might also have to do with the fact that you’ve been in love with him for years.
You know more about his relationship with his parents then most do, so if you can make their visit more bearable for him in any way, why wouldn’t you?
“Okay,” you say.
“Okay? Like, you’ll do it?”
“Yeah, sure. I’m happy to help.”
That was a lot easier than Steve thought it’d be. You barely even questioned him before agreeing, and that’s not lost on him.
“Thank you so much, seriously,” he throws his arm over your shoulders, squeezes you to him in a side hug. “It’s only a few days, then we can go back to normal.”
“Easy peasy,” you say, reaching for the remote and hitting play.
Aside from your wanting to help him, to be there for him like you know he would for you, you’re also curious to see what it’s like to be with Steve that way, even if it’s fake. It’s hopeless, the way you love him, like the moon orbiting the earth around and around. Constant.
Sure, those feelings will probably only swell because of the fake relationship, but you’ve been housing them for long enough anyway.
What could go wrong?
-
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Robin says from the other side of a clothing rack, sifting through the pieces.
She’s the first, and only, person you told about the fake dating thing. Naturally, she decided she’d help you shop for a dress to wear to this business thing and talk about it at the same time.
The mall is decorated, garlands and lights strung, a big Christmas tree lit up in the middle of it all.
“It’s only a couple of days. It’ll be fine.”
“I’m talking about you being in love with him,” she deadpans.
“Robin, not so loud.”
“I just don’t want you to get hurt.”
You know she’s being honest, and though the thought has been at the back of your mind, a whisper, you’d like to believe that you can handle a fake relationship without ruining things because of your big, big feelings.
“I spend time with him alone a bunch. It’s not that much different, okay?”
“Besides the fact that you’ll be calling him boyfriend and acting like it, too, you mean.”
Actually, you’ve been trying not to think about what exactly pretending to be his girlfriend entails. You don’t know if he’ll hold your hand, if he’ll hold you closer than he has before, if he’ll kiss you. You think it might be better to wait and see, to not let the possibilities eat at you.
“I know it sounds bad, but it’s Steve. Nothing major will happen. We’re friends and I’m helping him out.”
Robin’s in a tricky spot. She knows how you feel about Steve, obviously, and though he doesn’t see it yet himself, she knows that Steve feels the same, too. It’s taken a lot to hold herself back from speeding things along, and as much as she wishes this fake relationship plan might be a good push, things usually aren’t so easy.
She can also tell that there’s a lot you’re thinking but not saying, but instead of pushing it, she returns to looking at the dresses. It’s not long before she gasps, pulling one of the rack to show you.
“This one,” she says.
“I don’t know. That won’t look good on me.”
It’s pretty, though. You’ll give her that.
“Shut up, everything looks good on you. Will you at least try it on?” She wiggles the hanger in her hand, “for me?”
“Fine.”
You take it from her, walking back towards the fitting rooms with a grinning Robin in tow. She waits outside the door while you change into the dress.
Once it’s on, looking in the mirror, you don’t even know what to think. You’re not one to feel all that confident in what you wear, or in how you look, but this dress makes you feel pretty. Maybe you should make Robin pick out all of your clothes.
“Let me see!” Robin calls.
You step out of the changeroom, doing a shy little spin when she asks. She’s smiling proudly, like she knows she chose well (which she did). She can’t help but think of how Steve will react, because she knows he feels something for you, she can see it on his face everytime he talks about you. He’s just a dork and he doesn’t realize it. Not yet, at least.
“What do you think?” You ask.
“If Steve’s not already in love with you…”
“Don’t finish that sentence.”
If she does, your brain will conjure up way too many ideas of what could possibly happen. If Steve could really feel the same. If maybe he’ll feel those same butterflies in his stomach that you do, if his heart feels bigger when you’re around. In your dreams, he does.
“I’m trying to tell you you look hot!”
-
December twenty-third is the day that Steve’s parents come home as well as the night of the business event. You and Steve have tried to figure out how to act like a couple, quizzing each other on things you already know, setting loose boundaries, but you figure after knowing each other for so long, being so close, it won’t feel much different than now. Besides the extra touching, the possibility of kissing.
You’re already at his house when his parents get home, your makeup and outfit for tonight sitting in Steve’s room. The two of you linger near the front door waiting for their arrival, a nervous and jittery welcoming committee.
The sound of a car pulling into the driveway grabs your attention. It’s a clapperboard snapping shut, marking the scene. Action.
“You ready, babe?” He holds out his arm for you to grab, and you do.
“Time to be the best couple ever,” you reply.
Steve grins at you. He has no idea how to thank you for agreeing to do this, how to even explain to you the relief you’re sure to bring. It’s one less thing for his parents to pick and pry at.
The door opens, and you can already feel a change in Steve’s demeanor. He’s standing straighter, stiffer. You squeeze his arm, a reminder that you’re there.
“Steve, sweetie!” His mother barely greets him before moving onto you, “and this is your girlfriend?”
“Hi, Mrs. Harrington.”
If it were someone else’s mother, you’d be hit with the usual ‘oh please, call me (insert name here).’ However, where the Harringtons are concerned, formality is a must. Besides Steve, of course. From what you know, the apple had fallen very, very far from the tree and you mean that as a compliment.
Even after being friends for so many years, this is the first time you’re actually meeting Steve’s parents. It’s clear that he’s never jumped at the opportunity to have his friends around when they’re home. He’s told you about them, and that’s enough for you.
“Steve! Come help me with the bags, would you?” His dad calls from outside, though he says it as a demand rather than a question.
“Yep, coming,” he replies. He kisses the side of your head before going outside, quick and sure, like he’s done it hundreds of times.
“How was your trip, Mrs. Harrington?” You fill the silence.
“Oh, just lovely, thank you,” she moves to the kitchen, expecting you to follow. “The house looks clean. Do you have something to do with that?”
Despite her trying to sound like she’s joking, you know that she truly doesn’t believe that Steve could be the one keeping the place going. As if he hasn’t been doing just that for ages.
“No, no. It’s really Steve.”
Her eyebrows raise, surprised.
Steve and his father walk in before anything else is said—thank God. You shake hands with Mr. Harrington, saying hello and wearing a tight smile. Steve’s quick to come to your side, an arm over your shoulders like a shield. Your hand moves to hold the one resting on your shoulder.
He’s even more tense when his father’s in the room, you’ve noticed. You hold his hand a bit tighter. You wish you could do something to make him feel better, and you hope that this fake relationship will do that at least a little bit.
Meanwhile Steve’s wondering how your presence could make him feel much better than he usually does with his parents around. You’re a comfort beside him, and when he gets the chance, he kisses your head again, whispering a ‘thank you’ into your hair.
-
The first few hours with Steve’s parents go by dreadfully slow, even with his touch on you most of the time. You’re quickly learning that as a boyfriend—even fake—Steve’s love language is easily physical touch. He has an arm around you, a hand in yours, on your leg, anything.
You’re also learning just how strained his relationship with his parents is. He’d trusted you enough to tell you most of it, but seeing them interact in front of you was different. The backhanded comments, the faces whenever he mentions his job, it makes your heart ache for him.
It’s bad enough that his parents are hardly ever around, but having them act like this when they are? You’re amazed at how good Steve has remained through it all.
When it’s time to get ready for the business party, you’re thankful for the reprieve.
“Think we’re doing a good job?” You ask Steve as he shuts the door to his room.
“They seem to be buying it. Thanks again for doing this.”
“You’ve thanked me like a hundred times, Steve. It’s okay, really.”
You want to tell him that you’re sorry these are the people he has to call family. That he shouldn’t listen to any of the shit they give him about his job or his lack of post-secondary education. That he’s the best boy you’ve ever known.
The problem is, you don’t know how to say all of that without making your feelings for him painfully obvious.
“Just gotta keep it up ‘til Christmas. That’s when they leave.”
“They’re only here for two days?” You knew the trip was going to be short, but forty-eight hours?
“Yeah, something about getting a deal on a cruise. I don’t know.”
He says it so casually, like it’s normal. You guess that for him, it is, but it doesn’t make it any less upsetting.
“Does that mean you’ll come to mine for Christmas day? Like usual?” You ask, hopefully lightening the mood.
“If you’ll have me.”
“Shut up, you’re always welcome. Think my mom likes you more than me anyway,” you nudge his shoulder with yours, then move to bring your stuff into his bathroom to start getting ready.
He leans on the doorframe, watching you set your makeup out on the counter, “she does not.”
“Steve, you have your own stocking hanging on our fireplace. And it’s bigger than mine.”
He smiles genuinely then, the first one since his parents have arrived.
He leaves you to get ready, shutting the bathroom door for when you change. You can still hear him through the door. The opening and closing of his drawers, a curse when he stubs his toe.
So far, pretending to be with Steve has been easy. You’ve acted the same save for the touches or small pecks he’s decided to keep placing on your head or your cheeks. The story you settled on was simple: you met him picking up a movie at Family Video, he asked if you needed company to watch it, the rest is history, blah blah blah.
Steve knocks on the bathroom door when you’re pretty much ready, you glance at yourself one more time in the mirror before opening it.
He stands with his tie in hand, wearing a button up and dress pants. You assume there’s a suit jacket to go along with it, and you think it might kill you. He’s so pretty, and he looks it all of the time but seeing him dressed up is really something.
“You look good, Steve,” you say. Good doesn’t even begin to cover it.
“Thanks. You look- you too.”
Steve’s stunned. He realizes he’s never seen you in anything formal and it’s making him feel all fluttery in his stomach and he doesn’t know what to think of it. He’s always known you’re gorgeous, in an obvious way like how the sky is blue. Now, though, it’s like he can feel it.
He clears his throat quietly and remembers the reason he knocked in the first place, “you don’t happen to know how to tie a tie, do you?”
You’re thankful for the time you decided to learn how when you were bored one day. You take the fabric from his hands, “it’s your lucky day, Steve.”
“Thank you. Didn’t wanna have to go ask my dad.”
He’s almost shy about wanting your help over something so small, his cheeks a little pink, his head bent. You give him a reassuring smile—or what you hope is one—and place the tie around his neck.
His eyes are on you as your hands fiddle with the fabric, doing it up for him. Your eyebrows are slightly scrunched, and he wants to reach out and smooth it out with his thumb. He’s not used to having that urge.
You finish up successfully after having fumbled a little bit, adjusting the tie so it isn’t crooked.
“There you go,” you pat his chest and he hopes you can’t feel his heartbeat, the way it’s quicker than normal.
He has no idea what that’s about.
“Thanks.”
“‘Course.”
He’s still standing close to you, enough that he has to keep his head tilted downwards just a little to be able to look at your face. Your eyes lock onto his, and time seems to slow. You’re so gone for him and you know it, but it almost seems like maybe he’s feeling something too. Just for a moment.
His father calling out that it’s time to go snaps you out of it.
Steve grabs his jacket, shrugging it on then offering you his hand to hold, “let’s do this, girlfriend.”
-
The hall is oozing Christmas when you walk in, Steve’s hand in yours. Ornaments hang down from the ceiling, warm white string lights line the top of the walls, Christmas music hums through the speakers, and an extravagant Christmas tree sits in the middle of the room.
You’ve never been to an event like it, and you have a hard time keeping your nerves at bay.
Pretending in front of Steve’s parents alone was one thing. Now, the stakes are higher. You have to be convincing and though it’s not difficult for you to pretend to be in love with Steve (you don’t have to fake that at all), you worry that you’ll slip up somehow and give yourself away. Both in the sense that the relationship is fake, and that your feelings are anything but.
It’s not long before Steve’s father gets pulled into a conversation, and his mother goes along with him. You’re left standing near the doorway with Steve, biting at the inside of your cheek.
“Relax,” he leans his head close to yours and whispers.
“Sorry. I’m just nervous.”
“We’re fine. You’re fine,” he squeezes your hand, something that’s quickly become a wordless reassurance between you. “We’ve done good so far, right?”
“I guess so.”
“Okay, so there’s nothing to worry about.”
Except for the fact that I love you and that you being a really good fake boyfriend isn’t helping.
“Okay.”
He smiles and leads you further into the room. The smile he gives you is different from the one he gives the people that say hi to him, the people that stop him for a chat. For you, it’s honest. For them, it doesn’t reach his eyes, it doesn’t mean anything.
“About time you tied someone down, Steve,” a man says to him. A coworker of his father’s, just like most men in the room.
“Think she’s the one who got me, but yeah.”
“That’s sweet. Next step is to get you a stable job, huh?”
It seems like all anyone here is concerned about is what people do, who they know. It’s no fun for you and they aren’t even speaking to you directly most of the time.
“Sure. Good to see you,” Steve excuses the both of you from the conversation.
“These people suck,” you say to him, leading him to the bar set up in a corner.
“Tell me about it.”
You order water for the both of you, something to get rid of the dryness in your throat and occupy you for a bit. You drink quietly before Steve speaks up.
“You look beautiful, by the way.”
He doesn’t know why it slips out now, but it does. The thought has been on his mind since he saw you standing there in his bathroom, and it’s getting harder and harder to ignore.
“You don’t have to say that, Steve. Nobody’s listening.”
“I mean it, seriously.”
“Oh,” you look down at your glass, at the condensation running down the side. The corners of your mouth lift, “thank you.”
“I know this isn’t the most fun, but I’m glad you’re here with me,” he admits. He’s always been sweet to you, but this feels different. You don’t know how or why, but it does.
“I am too.”
Steve’s dad interrupts your moment, pulling Steve off to meet some people. Already, there’s a guard being put up by him, a shield he saves for his father.
For those few minutes, where it was just you and Steve, you realized that he’s probably the best date you’ve ever had. He pays attention to you, he’s comforting without even trying, and he compliments you with so much honesty you could melt.
He’s the best date you’ve ever had and it’s fake. It’s becoming a mantra repeated in your head; it’s not real, it’s not real.
Lost in thought, you don’t notice the boy who’s sat next to you now.
“I’ve never seen you before,” he says.
“I’m not usually at these things. I came with my boyfriend,” you tell him, unsettled by his stare.
“And where is this boyfriend now?”
“He’s out there. I just needed some water but he’ll come back soon.”
You’re trying to get him to go away, to take the hint. He won’t.
“Why don’t I keep you company in the meantime?”
You’re about to reply when someone else does it for you, “not necessary. She’s my girl.”
My girl. Steve. He stands behind you, wraps his arms around your waist. It’s like he knew you needed him then, showing up as soon as you felt like you wanted to search for him. He runs his hands over your sides, a possessive touch that has your skin tingling.
“My bad, man. Thought she was lying about the boyfriend,” the guy says.
“She wasn’t. Even if she was, maybe you should learn to tell when someone isn’t interested, yeah?”
The stranger nods and walks off.
You spin in Steve’s hold, facing him. “My hero.”
“You know me,” he shrugs.
What he doesn’t say is that seeing another guy talk to you made his gut churn, bringing something that he didn’t want to admit was jealousy. He also saw the look on your face, the discomfort, and felt his feet carry him over before his mind could think it first.
His hands are still on your waist, even with the stranger gone.
-
It’s not until Steve’s parents are ready that you leave. They’ve taken advantage of the champagne that sat on trays, free for the taking, as well as the opportunity to talk up their son to many, many people. It seems they’re only proud of him when there’s other people around, and even then, the praise doesn’t hold much weight.
He’s trying his best. At least he’s working. He’s got a girlfriend now. No, he doesn’t host backyard parties while we’re gone anymore.
You wish you could speak up, but you know, with this many people around, it’d cause more harm than good. It’s hard to listen to the people that raised Steve talk about him the way they do. You want so badly to shout in their faces how brilliant he is, no thanks to them. How he has the kindest soul and a sort of midas touch that makes everything shine.
At least, you think he does. You promise yourself to love him better than they ever did, even if it’s in secret.
One memory from the night overpowers the rest, luckily. ‘Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas’ played, a slower rendition, and a slow dance ensued. You watched couples split off, and when you looked at Steve, he was already looking at you, a question on his face and a hand outstretched.
You fell into step with him quickly. It wasn’t awkward for a second. One of your hands in his, the other on his shoulder, his on your waist. You swayed together, unknowingly moving closer until you were close enough to rest your head on his chest. And you did.
He rested his head atop of yours and hummed the song softly. You’ll dream about that dance, probably.
Now, you sit in the car with Steve, who’s become the driver. He drops his parents off at his house first, leaving the two of you alone for the drive to yours. He sneaks glances at you at stop signs and red lights, turning back to the road when he thinks he’s been caught.
His mind is full because he’s looking at you in a way he hasn’t before. He sees parts of you that he was blind to before. The shape of your lips, for example. The dip of your spine and the way it feels to hold you. It’s dizzying and warm, confusing and sparkling all at once.
Once he’s pulled up to your house, he offers to walk you to the door. Ever the gentleman. A romantic no matter how much he denies it, you think. He gets misty-eyed when you watch rom-coms, opens doors for you, has bought flowers for nearly all of his dates, as far as you know.
What must it be like to receive flowers from Steve Harrington?
He faces you on your front porch, hands in his pockets, “thank you again for doing this.”
“How many times do I have to tell you it’s okay. I’m happy to help you, Steve. You’re my best friend.” Who I love more than anyone.
“You’re mine, too, honey.”
It’s not the first time he’s called you that. Turns out, it was his default to use in your fake relationship. It is, however, the first time he’s said it when it’s just the two of you. It sounds sweet coming from his lips, sticky. Just like honey itself.
“What time should I be over for dinner tomorrow?” You ask. It’s the last hurdle of the fake dating.
“How ‘bout I come pick you up after I finish work?”
“Yeah, okay, that’d be great, thanks.”
You wrap your arms around yourself, the cold of December biting your skin.
“Here,” Steve notices, of course he does, and he reaches out with his hands, rubbing them up and down your arms to warm you.
“How’re your hands still warm?” You ask.
“I'm magic.”
You smile at that. He has no idea.
He reaches up with one hand to cup your cool cheek, and you nudge your face into his touch. For the warmth, you tell yourself. That’s it. His thumb runs over your skin, once, twice.
“Did I ever tell you that you have a pretty smile?” He says it so quietly you almost miss it. You don’t, though, and there’s a swarm of butterflies in your gut because of it.
“Shut up,” you try to mask your bashfulness.
Then, just like that, his face is close to yours. So close that it looks like he might kiss you. His eyes flick from your mouth up to yours, like he’s unsure of what’s happening while he’s doing it.
You can feel his breath tickling your lips, the ghost of his mouth on yours. Before that can happen, he’s swerving away quickly, planting a kiss on your cheek instead. The one he isn’t holding. His mouth lingers for a second.
“Goodnight,” he whispers against your skin.
“Night,” you say, dazed. And he’s walking away.
Steve’s not at all sure what’s come over him. He wanted to kiss you just then, to tangle his fingers in your hair and kiss you stupid. What the fuck was happening to him?
When you let your eyes flutter shut, your mouth parted slightly, like you’d let him kiss you, like you wanted it, too, he panicked. Couldn't do it.
No, he doesn’t know what just happened, why it did, or why he’s resisting the urge to go back and knock on your door and actually kiss you when you open it. What he does know is that his heart seems to be doing something funny when you’re around, and that your fake relationship has been better than any of his real ones.
He knows he needs to talk to Robin about this.
-
Steve had to work the next morning—Christmas Eve—which he was actually thankful for. Thankful to get away from his parents, though the comments about his job followed him out the door this morning. Especially thankful because he needs to talk to Robin and sort out the mess of his feelings that has occurred in the last twenty four hours.
He couldn’t stop thinking about how much he wanted to kiss you. About how his stomach was all twisty when you slow danced with him. There are so many moments playing over in his memory. Not just from yesterday, either.
He remembers the way his stomach would sink when you’d tell him about a date you had or how he’d often reach out a hand to tuck your hair behind your ear, or to wipe something away from the corner of your mouth.
So many things over your friendship that he never thought about are coming back to him and he’s realized he doesn’t act that way with any of his other friends. Only you.
He also realizes that he hasn’t really been pretending with you at all.
“I think I love her,” Steve blurts out while he and Robin are organizing returns, the store luckily empty.
Robin reaches into her pocket, barely fazed, and tosses a handful of confetti at Steve. Some pieces stick to his hair, some to his clothes, most of it at his feet.
“What the hell?” He shakes the flecks out of his hair, “we have to clean that now.”
“I’ve been carrying around confetti for like a year waiting for this to happen!”
“Wait, what?”
“Steve, you’ve been loving her for a long time, hate to break it to you.”
“And you didn’t tell me?” He’s no longer preoccupied with the confetti.
“I was letting you do it on your own time. You’re welcome.”
Steve had only just deduced that he’s in love with you and yet, when he thinks about you, he feels the same way he has for years. He finds it hard to believe that he’s been blind to it for that long, but he has been called an idiot enough in his lifetime for it to make sense.
Then, there’s the fact that you’re not done fake dating yet, that there’s still dinner today to get through and he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to keep himself together.
“What am I gonna do, Robin?”
“You’re gonna tell her how you feel and I will finally know peace.”
“What if she doesn’t feel the same? What if I freak her out?”
“Steve, she looks at you like sun shines from your pores,” she places a hand on his shoulder. “You’ll be fine.”
-
He picks you up after work as promised, his hands holding the wheel a little tighter, his greeting a little louder than normal. You figure he’s just nervous about dinner.
Nobody brings up the almost kiss, and you don’t plan to. Maybe you read things wrong. Maybe he was aiming for your cheek all along. Maybe he’s been thinking about it as much as you have.
It seems that your feelings for Steve are present now more than ever. Impossible to ignore. It might have something to do with the Christmas spirit floating around, the lightness of the holidays. It definitely has something to do with you being Steve’s fake girlfriend.
Because it turns out, he’s an excellent boyfriend, real or not.
He opens doors for you, even if he has to jog ahead of you to do it. He’s always got at least one hand on you, warm and sure. He looks at you with so much care, his brown eyes stuck on you.
It’s all adding up and you feel like your love for him is overflowing, pouring out of you before you can reel it in. You just hope he doesn’t notice that you’re not acting, that you never were.
Walking into Steve’s kitchen, you pause in the doorway, him behind you, “this smells great, Mrs. Harrington.”
Though Steve knows she probably bought most of the stuff and then put it in pots and pans to make it look like she cooked, he agrees, “so great, mom.”
She turns to look at you both from her spot by the stove, “thank you. Oh!” She cuts herself off with a gasp, her gaze drifting above your heads.
Oh no.
“Mistletoe,” she says, pointing.
“Look at that,” you laugh, short and awkward.
“Steve, sweetie, kiss your girlfriend for tradition's sake, won’t you.”
He kisses you on the cheek.
“A real one, son,” his father pipes up from his seat at the table.
Steve finds your gaze, his eyes wide and questioning. Are you okay with this? He’s asking without saying it. You nod, barely there, but you nod and he sees it.
He cups your cheek in his hand, flashes of last night on your porch come to you. He leans in slowly, like he’s waiting for you to stop him. Instead of doing that, you hold his wrist in your hand, squeeze it. Your silent communication.
In a blink, his lips are on yours. Pillowy and almost shy, but he’s kissing you and you feel like you’re floating, your feet off the ground and everything. He pulls away before you can even register the fact that it happened.
Your heartbeat is loud in your ears, your lips still burning with the memory of his.
Steve can't believe he hasn’t kissed you before. You’re soft and you fit together so well, like the final piece of a jigsaw puzzle clicking into place. He’s kicking himself for not doing it last night, when you were alone, when it was real. Next time he kisses you, he thinks, it will be real.
He clears his throat, tearing his eyes away from you, “so, let’s eat.”
Just like that, he’s moving to the table, pulling out a chair for you and kissing the top of your head once you’ve sat down. Already, the extra affection he’s been giving you has been dizzying. Now, it’s dialed way up.
He helps his mom serve the food before he sits down, though all he gets as a thank you is a pat on the cheek. Next to you, you can see Steve’s leg bouncing up and down. You reach out and place a hand above his knee, stilling him and drawing his gaze to yours.
You smile, and you hope it’s enough to say it’s okay, it’s all gonna be fine. He rests his hand on top of yours, fingers laced together.
“So, Steve, have you been looking for jobs?” His father speaks up. The never-ending topic.
“No, dad. I have a job,” Steve doesn’t look up from his plate, pushing mashed potatoes around with his fork.
“Well, a real job, I mean.”
At Steve’s silence, his mom adds, “we just think, especially now that you have a girlfriend to support, you should look for something… better.”
You look up when she says it, eyes wide and hand tensing on Steve’s leg. You don’t understand how they care so much about what he does and so little about how he feels. He likes his job, you know that, and he’s tried to tell them multiple times over the past couple of days.
And still.
It’s impossible for you to sit by and listen to them talk to him the way they do, like he isn’t good enough. Like the only defining thing is his job, which isn’t even a bad one. What defines him is who he is as a person and he’s the best one in your life.
“Why does it matter so much?” You ask.
His parents look at you, surprised to be questioned, it seems. Steve looks at you, too, with something more like astonishment, appreciation.
“I’m sorry,” you continue, “it’s just, you haven’t seen your son in how long? And all you guys keep bringing up is his job, which he’s told you he actually enjoys. Shouldn’t that be enough for you?”
Steve’s world is tinting pink, heart-shaped lenses over his eyes hearing you defend him. Nobody’s ever tried to go against his parents for him, and here you are. Fuck, he loves you.
They’re quiet, and you’re not finished. “Steve is the greatest person I’ve ever met, and that’s no thanks to you. I’ve known him for a long time and not once have I seen you guys around. How can you judge him so much when you don’t even take the time to know him anymore?”
The room is dead quiet. Nothing but the clinking of forks against plates for the rest of the meal. You feel lighter, after saying what you did. Though you’re also terrified that you’ve overstepped, that Steve will be upset with you for causing a scene.
As if sensing your worry, he holds your hand just a bit tighter.
It’s not until after dinner, hidden away in his room, that you talk about what happened. Not the kiss; your outburst.
He shuts his door and you’re already apologizing, “listen, Steve. I'm so sorry if I made things worse, but I couldn’t just let them shit on your job anymore. I couldn’t. You’re my best friend, you know that, and-”
His arms are around you in a blink.
“Thank you,” he breathes into your hair. “Nobody’s ever done anything like that for me. Thank you, honey.”
“Oh,” you blink away your surprise and wrap your arms around his shoulders. “Anytime.”
“You’re really special.”
Your smile spreads, spilling before you can do anything about it. You hide your face in his neck and stay that way until he lets go, a flush in his cheeks and stars in his eyes.
Steve wanted to tell you he loves you right then, but the words seem stuck in his throat. They won’t come up. He wants to be with you for real, and though it happened in a rush, it also didn’t. His brain just needed to catch up to his heart.
He doesn’t say it, but he will. As soon as he can.
“Wanna go watch a movie?” You ask.
“Yeah, okay.”
Movie night. You and him. That’s real.
-
Steve’s parents seem to have gone out somewhere, the car missing from the driveway. They haven’t left, though. You and Steve checked for the suitcases (they’re sitting, already packed, in their room).
Playing the movie, yet another Christmas pick that Steve couldn’t say no to, you share a blanket. There’s plenty of room on the couch, you’re the only people there, and yet, Steve still tosses an arm over your shoulders and pulls you to lean against his side.
Maybe he’s just doing it in case his parents come home while you’re downstairs. That’s gotta be it.
“Is it bad that I’m sort of relieved they aren’t here right now?” Steve says to you, quiet.
“Not at all. You deserve better than what they give you, Steve.”
“You think so?”
“Are you kidding? I know so.”
He lets his head lean atop of yours, and that’s that.
You want to bring up the kiss, but then again, why would you? It’s not real. It’s not real no matter how much you wish it was, no matter how much it feels that way. You knew going into this that you might end up kissing Steve, you just didn’t know it’d fuck you up so much.
Part of you hopes that mistletoe will appear above your heads yet again, just to be able to feel the way you did when he kissed you. Heart fluttering, stomach twisting, warm all over.
Though Steve’s head feels relaxed, resting on yours, it’s overflowing with thoughts. You, his parents, the way you defended him, how it felt to kiss you, how much he wants to do it again. You. The entire length of the movie, he’s trying to think of a way to tell you he loves you. The best he comes up with is to wing it.
When the screen fades, and the film ends, you remember the gift you’d left in Steve’s room, buried at the bottom of your overnight bag (you decided to sleep over, something you’ve done too many times to count, and head to your place in the morning with Steve). You sit up, only to face him.
“I have something for you. C’mon,” you tug on his hand, leading him all the way to his own bedroom.
“What?”
“Just,” you make him sit down on his bed when you’re in the room, digging through your bag and finding the present you’d wrapped last night. “Here.”
He takes it from your hand slowly, like it’s the most precious thing in the world. He doesn’t open it right away, staring at the red and green patterned wrapping paper and the gold stick-on bow sitting in the middle of it.
“Open it,” you urge, shuffling nervously on your feet.
He shoots you a shy smile before tearing at the paper, revealing a scrapbook of sorts. Flipping through the pages, he finds memories upon memories. Pictures of you and him, of him and Robin, all three of you. Some with the kids or with Eddie. Most of them he doesn’t even remember taking.
And it’s more than just pictures. There’s movie tickets and receipts from random fast food dinners, confetti from a surprise party for Dustin and a piece of a plate Steve broke once.
It’s the most thoughtful thing anyone’s ever given him. It reminds him that he does have a family, no blood relation needed.
“Honey,” he says it quietly, his eyes watering ever so slightly. “This is- I don’t even know what to say.”
“I know it’s not much, but I thought you’d like it.”
“No. I love it. It’s perfect, seriously,” he runs his finger over a picture of the two of you, your faces squished together and your smiles absolutely ridiculous. “Best gift ever.”
He means it.
“I had some help with the pictures. Everyone in that book loves you, Steve.”
Everyone in that book. That means you love him, too. He knows that you could mean it platonically, but something about the way you look at him when you say it makes him think that he has to tell you. He has to try.
He’s suddenly very glad he bought you a locket for Christmas, and that he left it unwrapped because of his lack of skills in that department.
“Close your eyes,” he says.
“Steve-”
“Please,” he trades spots with you, sitting you on the edge of his bed, “close your eyes for a minute, ‘kay?”
“Okay,” you shut them tight, placing a hand over them as well, “double closed.”
He rushes to grab the locket from the bottom of one of his drawers, then grabs the tiniest bit of paper and manages to write as small as he can on it, placing the message in the necklace and closing it with a small click.
Steve reaches for the hand that isn’t covering your eyes, opening it up and placing the delicate piece of jewelry in it. “Okay, open.”
You do, glancing down to what rests in your palm. It’s gorgeous, dainty, and the corners of your mouth lift at the sight of it.
“It’s beautiful, Steve. You didn’t have to.”
“It’s a locket,” he says. His head is bent, shy and visibly nervous. “Open it, too.”
Your heartbeat picks up, like you know, subconsciously, that something big is hiding inside despite the small size of the necklace itself. You wedge your fingernail into the gap, pushing the locket open. The note inside makes your stomach drop.
In his messy, rushed writing, the words ‘I love you.’
You look at him, mouth agape and hopes way up. “Steve?”
“I mean it.”
“How-”
“I mean I’m in love with you, and I think I have been for a really, really long time. I guess it took you being my fake girlfriend for me to realize it.”
“You’re not pranking me, are you?”
You’ve spent so long loving him, and convincing yourself that he could never love you the same, that it feels unreal. Hazy, like a dream.
He sits beside you, cupping your face in his hands softly to make you look at him, “I’m not pranking you. I love you.”
“Holy shit. I love you, too. For so long. I never thought I had a chance with you.”
“I think you’re the only person who’s had a real chance with me since I met you, honey.”
Right there, discarded wrapping paper on the floor, the glow of Christmas lights shining through the window, you doubt you’ll ever take that locket off once it’s on.
You can’t stop yourself from rushing forward and kissing him. A small press of your mouth against his at first, then, it’s more. It’s slow and every single thing you’ve ever wanted. His lips move with yours like they’re the only ones that know you.
This time, when you kiss, there’s no question. It’s real and it’s thawing every single worry you ever had about this. This is real, you get to think now.
Steve pulls away only when your breathing gets heavier, only when he absolutely has to. His thumb trails over your cheek, a lover’s touch. He takes the necklace from your hand, puts it on for you and kisses you again when he’s done.
“Do you think this was a Christmas miracle?” You say, teasing.
“I think this was just me being too stupid to notice how I feel about you. I know now, though.”
“Because you needed a fake girlfriend.”
“Because I needed a fake girlfriend,” he confirms. “But, I’d like a real one now.”
“I think I can manage that,” you nod, a lovesick smile on your face.
For once, Steve’s glad his parents came home. He never would have asked you to fake date him if they hadn’t, and he wouldn’t have realized his very real feelings for you, either. So, maybe it is a Christmas miracle, after all.
༄
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#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington imagines#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington one shot#steve harrington oneshot#steve harrington request#steve harrington requests#steve harrington story#steve harrington fic#steve harrington fanfic#steve stranger things#stranger things steve#stranger things#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fic#stranger things x reader
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Teenage Dirtbag
Mapi Leon x Ingrid Engen x Teen!Reader
Summary: Ingrid just doesn't understand you
Mapi had never met you before.
She's met the rest of the Engen family. She's met the family pets. But you'd never been around she visited with Ingrid, like your family had put you as far away as possible when she met them.
Like you were something to be ashamed of.
It's a bit of a bad first impression to make when you're shipped from your boarding school, back home and then straight over to Spain to live with her and Ingrid.
She doesn't even get to introduce herself before Ingrid's laying into you.
"Again?" She demands as soon as you're safely in the back seat of the car," Expelled...again?"
"It's not a big deal," You mutter, slouching in your seat and pulling your hood over your head.
"Not a big deal...Not a big deal?! You've been kicked out of school! You've been kicked out of the house! Oh, but it's not a big deal?!"
Mapi's never seen Ingrid so angry before but you're taking it like a champ, looking out the window and generally ignoring your sister even as she snaps at you.
"Are you done?" You ask in the most bored tone you can manage.
Ingrid takes a breath. "Ye-" She catches sight of you in the rear view mirror and whips around to face you. "Is that a hickey?!"
"Do we have to do this?" You groan," You ask me if I've got a hickey. I give you an answer you don't like. You yell. Can we just skip to the bit after you scold me?"
Ingrid's practically bubbling in rage sitting in the passenger seat and Mapi's left scrambling trying to diffuse the tension.
"So..." She says eventually," You like football?" It's a weak redirection but it gets an amused scoff out of Ingrid as she rolls her eyes.
"I'm not into exercising willingly," Is your answer," It's alright from a distance. Even better when a girl's doing it."
Ingrid groans louder now and swats at your knees but it's teasing and it's like all of her anger from earlier has melted away. "Don't," She says warningly though a hint of amusement is still present in her voice," There'll be none of that here. You're here to focus and to study and to better your grades."
You send her a lopsided smile. "How am I supposed to improve perfection?"
It's that evening after you've retreated to your room that Ingrid is left in a slump over your grades and your truancy records.
"I don't get it," She says to Mapi," She misses almost every class but she has perfect marks. It's like she doesn't even have to try."
Mapi shrugs. "Maybe she doesn't," Is her response," Some people just get school better than others. To be honest, if it's this easy then that's probably why she never turns up."
"And the hickies?"
"She's hormonal?" Mapi doesn't really have an answer to that as she's handed your transcript.
"And this?"
Ingrid slides Mapi a picture. It's of one of this out buildings that every school has that they swear is temporary but never go unused.
"That's..."
Mapi stares at the side of the building. She stares at the colours on the wall, at the way they weave expertly in and out of each other. She stares at the shading and the light.
"I know," Ingrid says, her face all scrunched up and Mapi gets the idea that they're not on the same page.
"It's brilliant."
"It's disrespectful."
They both spoke at the same time. They exchange a confused look with each other before turning their gazes back to study the picture.
It's clearly spray paint, the mural that you've done on the side of one of your school buildings. Usually, Mapi would see tags on railway lines out of spray paint. But, somehow, your mural is hyper realistic (Mapi would even go so far as to say photorealistic).
It's...Well Mapi doesn't quite have the words to explain it.
"I'd love to see what she could do with a pencil."
"Mapi!" Ingrid hisses," Don't encourage her!"
"No, no," Mapi backtracks quickly," I get it, totally. She shouldn't have done it there. It's wrong and it's bad but Ingrid! Look at it! People dream of having talent like that!"
For the entire night and the coming days after, Mapi thinks about the mural you did it on your school.
She ends up asking Ingrid for your Instagram during the lunch break at training. Ingrid gives it to her with a confused look.
"If you're going to use it to try and work out where this behaviour is coming from, it's useless," Ingrid says with a defeated sigh," I've already gone through it all."
That wasn't what Mapi was planning to do at all so she just offers Ingrid a little smile and a promise to see what she could find. To her disappointment, no more of your artwork has been posted on your main account.
She scrolls through your following list, all the way to the bottom, to find an account that she's positive is your secret one. Its username is a bunch of random letters followed by dot-art and its profile picture is the mural on the side of your school building.
Mapi feels like she's hit the jackpot as she scrolls through it (feeling pleased with herself when she notices a bunch of your school friends follow this account too so it must be you). You've got hundreds of posts up, detailing murals you've done around your hometown and your school. There's a few still life drawings and a huge oil paint piece on a massive canvas. There's an image of a drawing that's clearly done in pen on someone's arm.
It's photorealistic just like your spray paint piece and, if you were older, Mapi would probably beg you to be her tattoo artist.
When she and Ingrid get back to the house, you're napping at the kitchen table.
Ingrid swears under her breath, rousing you from your sleep. "I told you to do your school work," She says.
You shrug. "I did." You shove your notepad towards her. "It's not my fault that it's not difficult."
"You've done the bare minimum."
You shrug. "I'm not into doing more than I have to."
The tension in the air is practically electric as you both stare each other down.
"Lose the attitude," Ingrid says," I'm trying to help you here. Mum and Dad won't let you back home until you clean your act up."
You mutter something under your breath and Ingrid goes rigid.
"Don't say that!" She snaps," They want what's best for you! We want what's best for you!"
"They want what's best for them!" You snap back. In the few weeks that Mapi's known you, you're the most laidback teenager she's ever met. You've never once really bit back at Ingrid, no matter how hard she pushed you.
Ingrid's tough love had seemed to be working. You napped regularly, yes, but you got all of your schoolwork done. You don't come home with hickeys and no strange murals have appeared in Barcelona by your hands.
She must have hit a sore spot for you.
"You're smart," Ingrid says," You're so smart and I don't understand why you don't apply yourself more! If you worked properly, you could graduate early and be at university already!"
"There's nothing at university that interests me," You mutter," It's a waste of time."
"It's not a waste of time!" Ingrid retorts," What are you going to do when you finish school, huh? Do you even have a plan?!"
Mapi sees your eyes dart to where your sketchpad sits a few feet away. She can see the cogs turning in your head.
You stay silent.
Ingrid sighs, hands clenched into two shaking fists. "I love you," She says," But you need to get yourself together." She shoves your papers right back at you.
"I've already finished it!"
"You've done the bare minimum." She swipes your sketchbook off of the table. "Sit down. Do it properly."
"Give it back!"
Ingrid's tall and, even though she's your sister, she's still tall enough to hold your book over her head so you can't reach it. "You get it back when you do your work properly."
"Give it!"
"No!"
"Ingrid, hand it over!"
"Do your work!"
"Urgh! I hate you!"
"Well, too bad. Because I love you!"
You slump into the seat with a scream that makes Mapi's ears ring a bit but you grab your pen and start on your schoolwork again.
"Come on," Mapi says softly, drawing Ingrid into their bedroom and shutting the door.
Ingrid throws your sketchbook onto the bed and paces, pulling at her hair in frustration.
"What-What did she say?" Mapi asks, her mind playing that moment when Ingrid went stiff over and over again.
"She said that she wished Mum and Dad got rid of her when they had the chance...you know...when she was..."
"Oh."
"Yeah, oh." Ingrid groans. "I-I just don't understand her! She's so smart! She has her pick of everywhere! Mum and Dad can get her into medical school! It's like she has no ambition!"
Mapi types into her phone. "Have you considered that, maybe, going to medical school and university isn't exactly for her? I mean, you went straight into football."
Ingrid sighs, the tension draining somewhat from her body. "Mapi...It's different. I had a passion for football even when I was younger. I practiced every day. I knew what I wanted."
"She practices something every day," Mapi replies," And she's so good at it. Honestly, Ingrid, it's a little annoying that you and your family haven't noticed."
She turns her phone around, to a post on your secret Instagram account. It's tagged as a city a few hours away from your old boarding school.
On the side of a crumbling house is a spray paint mural of Norway's women's team. It's got everyone on it, photorealistic like all of your other murals. Ingrid's in the middle though, beaming a smile that you can see reaches her eyes.
"What?" The real Ingrid asks, brow furrowed.
"Your sister did that," Mapi says," She's done a lot of them." She grabs your sketchbook and flicks though it. You'd shown her all of your pieces a few days ago when she asked to see them. "Ingrid, she's so good."
Ingrid flips through your book. There's pencil drawings in there. There's watercolour and acrylic and oil. There's a pastel study of your cat back home and an inked version of Bagheera. There's a stunning piece in charcoal of you and Ingrid when you were younger.
Her fingers hover over your squishy baby cheeks, like she could reach into the picture and touch them.
The next few pages have pictures of your own arm with tattoo designs wrapping around them.
"Ingrid, she's so talented," Mapi says," And, yeah, maybe she shouldn't skip class or leave her work to the last minute but she's found something she's passionate about and loves. How would you feel if your parents didn't support you in your football and made you go to medical school?"
Ingrid wipes the tears out of her eyes when she flicks to the last picture you've drawn. It was from last week, when she rewarded you for doing all your work before the weekend with ice cream. You had taken a picture with Mapi and Ingrid, tongue poking out and cheeks pressed together.
You've replicated it perfectly on the page and scrawled a little heart at the bottom along with your signature.
"Jona...Jona said they're looking for someone to do a mural on the back wall of the Johan Cruyff," She says eventually, flipping the book closed," We...Er...We..."
"I'll call Jona," Mapi assures her," Go and save your sister from work she's already finished."
Like Mapi said, you've already finished all of your work and you're sitting stubbornly at the kitchen table, rolling a piece of lint between your fingers.
You're taken completely off guard when Ingrid pulls you in for a hug. Usually, it takes an hour or two for her to calm down after yelling at you.
"I love you," She says as she pulls away, cradling your face as tears run down her face," I love you so much."
"Ingrid? What's going on?"
"I love you," She says," And I want what's best for you. If you promise me that you'll try just a bit harder in school then I swear, I'll make everything better."
"Seriously, you're freaking me out here. What's going on?"
Map appears over Ingrid's shoulder with a dopey smile. "You should thank your sister. She's just sorted you out with a job."
"A job? Ingrid, no offence, but you don't even like me out of your sight. I can barely get by in Spanish. You want me to get a job too?"
"The Estadi Johan Cruyff needs a mural done-"
"Several murals," Mapi cuts in.
"-And you're doing them."
You blink in shock before a grin splits your face wide open. "Seriously? Are you joking?"
"Keep trying hard," Ingrid says," And I'm sure me and Mapi can sort you out with so much more."
#woso x reader#ingrid engen x reader#ingrid engen#mapi leon x reader#mapi leon#woso community#woso fanfics#woso imagine#woso
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i just wanna know whose idea it was to cast Cossotto in mezzo roles when she sounds lighter than most of her contemporary spinto sopranos.
peace and love but using your chest voice doesn't automatically make you a mezzo <33333
#brought to you by: im listening to that don carlo recording with bastianini (duh) and stella and. indeed. cossotto#and next to stella cossotto literally sounds like a soubrette#and this is always my issue with her.#whenever she's an azucena she sounds lighter than the leonora. her amneris is ligter than aida. etc etc#to be fair i dont think she was a bad singer. i actually think she was quite good but for the love of god she was a lyric soprano#a spinto at best but imo that's a stretch#honestly stella should have sung eboli in that recording#anyway it sucks. the conductor is on drugs and i could strangle him with my bare hands.#and they're cutting SO MUCH. not only io vengo a domandar or carlo ch'é sol because that ive come to expect from older recordings#they literally cut the giustizia giustizia sire scene??!???!?!????! ridiculous#and i swear to god there is no per me giunto in that recording. yes you read that right. NO PER ME GIUNTO.#maybe it's just. somehow spotify's fault??? maybe it was there in the original and spotify just fucking forgot to put it there#because it is hard for me to believe the conductor would make such a stupid fucking choice#but it literally goes straight from 'convien qui dirci addio. o mio carlo....' to 'che parli tu di morte?'#which is RIDICULOUS because he says nothing about dying in the recitative before the aria?????? hello?????#so yes i hate that recording with a passion even though it's Stella's only recorded elisabetta. but. with love. she kinda sucks here too#anyway 3/10 (because bastianini. and the tenor is nice. it would be 0/10 otherwise) dont recommend. it sucks.#opera tag#anyway. cossotto. you're not a mezzo. stop pissing me off.#it's great that you use your chest voice. you get a star from me. but it's just not enough sweetheart.#also i read somewhere that she was a real bitch to her colleagues on stage so. no hard feelings but yeah i dont fucking like her lol
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My Brother's Best Friend Pt4
I immediately disregarded my homework at the sound of my phone ringing. I had been expecting a call from Paige ever since her game against Xavier went off, Uconn coming out with an unsurprising win.
Her smug face appeared on the screen, she had changed into her pajamas and the camera was propped up on what I assumed to be a desk or table.
"Summer Collymor."
"Paige Bueckers."
"Did you watch the game?" she asked.
"Nope," I said, "tv was unplugged as promised."
She leaned back in her chair and laughed, shaking her head. "Whatever you say."
I laughed as well, nervously toying around with the pen I had previously tossed aside with my notebook. This was the first time ever that Paige and I had facetimed, and despite our track record of never having a dry conversation, I couldn't help but worry that I'd run out of things to talk about.
"So..." she said with a smile.
"So...?" I repeated.
"How was your day?" she asked softly.
"Hmm it was okay. Practice was really great though, we got a few new girls who tried out for the second season and they're really good. I'm hoping they'll tryout again for the comp squad in the spring."
"That's good. You're pacing yourself right?"
"What do you mean?" I frowned.
"With putting the routines together and studying for midterms and all, I just want to make sure you aren't stressing yourself out" she shrugged shyly.
"Aww, are you worried about me?" I smiled.
"Definitely not, who am I gonna make fun of if you're all busy and stressed?" she raised an eyebrow.
"Girl bye, look in the mirror and you'll find all the jokes you need" I laughed.
"Ohh you thought that was good huh? You weren't saying all that when I was all over you the other day" she replied cockily, crossing her arms and staring at the camera.
"So you admit that you were all over me?"
"We were all over each other."
"Mhm. If I remember correctly, it was you who made the first move," I reminded her, "so shut all that shit up."
She playfully rolled her eyes and grabbed the phone, moving to lay down on her bed. A moment of silence washed over us as I watched her watch me, both of our smiles slowly growing at the eye contact. I didn't want to be the first to back down but I could feel the tension becoming too much for me to bear. I pretended to read over a paragraph in my chem textbook, not wanting her to notice the blush that had crept onto my face. It'd go straight to her head.
"What're you wearing?" her voice was low and suggestive through the phone, but her face displayed an expression of innocence.
"A t-shirt" I said, tilting the camera up as I displayed my 2019 cheer championship shirt.
She smirked, "What else?"
"Just my underwear" I said innocently.
"Oh yeah?" she raised her eyebrows. When I nodded my head she continued, "Can I see?"
I thought about it for a moment, lifting up to make sure my door was closed before making my decision. I pulled my covers down and raised the camera, showing off the bright pink thong that I had on.
"Mm mm mm!" Paige exclaimed dramatically, shaking her head with her fist to her mouth.
"Oh God shut up!" I laughed, putting the camera back down.
"What? You look good" she complimented simply.
"Thanks, wish you were here to prove it though" I said lowly.
I didn't know where my sudden boldness came from, maybe it was because I knew Paige wasn't actually here and I had no reason to be nervous. Anything I said or did right now would surely be forgotten by the time she returned for Christmas break.
"Just touch yourself and pretend its me" she laughed, but her eyes carefully scanned my face for my reaction.
"You would say something like that" I shook my head.
"Hey, desperate times call for desperate measures" she defended with her hand up. She went quiet for a moment when I didn't say anything. "Are you doing it?" she asked with high eyebrows, surprise laced in her voice.
"No! You're so dirty," I laughed, "I was getting comfortable."
"Mhm" she nodded.
"...Did you really want me to?"
She shrugged her shoulders, not looking at the phone. She definitely wanted me to. I bit my lip as I considered it. Paige was staring at me quizzically through the phone with one of her eyebrows cocked. I was getting turned on at the thought of pleasing myself, the thought of Paige's voice in my ear as she told me what to do and how to do it.
"Okay" I said, letting out a breath.
"Huh?"
"I'll do it" I elaborated.
"You don't have to, I was just-"
"I want to" I interuppted, rubbing my legs together under the covers.
"Really?"
"Yes, what do I do?" I asked.
"Wait, have you never done it before?" she sounded surprised.
"No...is that bad?"
Paige laughed and sat up a little straighter in her bed, "No Summer it's not bad it's just...surprising?" she corrected.
"Why is it surprising?"
"I don't know, I don't know."
"Alright whatever," I smiled, "you ready to do this?"
"Are you ready?" she redirected the question.
"Yeah go, go" I encouraged.
Paige laughed lowly, shaking her head. I moved to switch off my lamp and then laid back down. Paige had gotten comfortable as well; her head rested back against her pillow and her wrist was draped over her forehead.
"Okay now...run your hands up and down your thighs" she instructed after thinking for a moment. "Just your fingertips, slow" she added quickly.
I did as I was told, softly trailing my fingertips up to the edge of my underwear and then trailing them back down to my knees. It felt like electricity coursing through my fingers and leaving burn marks on my skin where they touched. I imagined it was Paige's hands, touching me with utmost delicacy as she always did.
"You like the way that feels?" she asked.
"Yeah" I answered.
I couldn't help but feel embarrassed at what I was doing. Not only was I masturbating for the first time in my life, but I was doing it on the phone with Paige. She couldn't see me, my phone sat next to my head facing toward the ceiling, close enough to where she could hear any noise that I made.
"I want you to move your hands up and down your cunt...be gentle" she said.
I bit back a laugh at the bluntness of her words and moved my fingers over my clothed clit. I was gentle like she told me to be, hardly pressing into myself at all.
"Do it three more times, and then I want you to stop."
I could feel myself growing wetter, hotter, needier. I bit down hard on my lip, preventing shaky breaths from leaving my mouth. My clit was becoming swollen, my entire pussy throbbing with the desire to be touched by me...by Paige.
She had fucked me so good before she left and I was aching for her to do it again. I wanted to feel every inch of her, her sweaty body on mine as we went round after round.
"Take two fingers and rub in that circular motion that I know you like" she said, I could practically see the smile on her face as she spoke. "Think about me when you do it, think about my fingers touching and teasing you."
I was even more turned on at the thought of Paige hovering over me, her long blonde hair falling like a curtain over me and tickling my face.
"How wet are you Summer?" she asked lowly.
I could feel my wetness grow and begin to drip out of me, if I told her how wet I was right now she'd never let me hear the end of it. A small whimper slipped past my lips, a cry of desperation.
"So wet" I breathed out.
"Yeah...good."
"Let's get those pretty panties out the way then" she smirked.
I pushed my hand down into my underwear all too quickly, dying to feel a more intense friction.
"You're rushing, I can hear you. Slow down or I'm gonna stop" she warned, her voice serious.
I stilled my motions.
"That's a good girl" she cooed condescendingly.
I was going to come quick, I knew I was. Paige talking me through this had to be the hottest thing ever. After a good game tonight I knew she deserved to unravel me the way she was, to listen to me crumble to pieces from instructions she was giving me.
"Slowly...put your fingers in. I want it so slow it almost hurts to do, you hear me?" she said.
"Mhm..."
"Words."
"Yes, yes I hear you" I whined.
I didn't waste anymore time inserting my ring and middle fingers, a dragged out gasp filling the room. I tightly pressed my lips together, that gasp turning into a moan.
All I could think about was Paige's proud face smirking down at me as her finger repeatedly pushed in and out of me, hitting all the right spots. I imagined her lips as they connected with mine, and then they moved to my jaw, and then to my neck, and down my chest...
"Go faster for me."
I ignored the slight stinging pain I felt as I pumped my fingers faster, it was enough for me to clench my jaw, but not enough to stop.
"Fuck you sound so good" Paige grunted, running her hands through her hair. "God I miss you."
I didn't bother to stop the smile that pulled at my lips, there were so many feelings running through me that I didn't know what to do with myself.
I ran my hand up my side to my chest, using it to squeeze my tits. I could hear my fingers going in and out, my juices running down my hand.
"Do you wanna come?" she asked.
"Uh huh" I moaned out desperately.
"I want to see you" Paige said, staring at the phone.
I didn't make a move for my phone, I could feel my walls tightening around my fingers. I would come any second.
"Summer," she called out, "be a good girl and let me see you."
I snatched the phone off the bed and held it in my hand, sitting up to lean on my elbow so she could see my face.
Her eyes were dark when they met mine through the screen, she licked her lips and smiled. "Come for me pretty baby"
That'll do it.
My mouth fell open as I released all over my fingers. It was almost as if my entire existence was slipping away, like everything I had accomplished was becoming undone. My body shook for a moment, and it felt like I was lying on clouds taking shots of Pink Whitney with Jesus Christ. Nothing was real.
If that's what giving myself an orgasm felt like, I was upset that I hadn't done it sooner. I laid there for a moment, coming back to my sense as I came down from my high.
"You okay over there?" Paige asked, her voice laced with amusement.
I laughed and brought the phone closer to my face, playfully narrowing my eyes. I got up from the bed and headed into the bathroom, setting up the phone to wash my hands.
"I've actually never done that before...like, talked someone through it like that I mean" Paige confessed.
"Aw, I took your phone sex virginity" I teased, rubbing the soap into my hands.
She snorted, "You're a cornball."
"Yes, yes, so I've been told."
IM SO SORRY THIS IS SO FKN RUSHED LIKEEEEE
but at least i tried yk
i haven't been in the smut mood ??????🫨🫨🫨🫨🫨
but like I told yall I need a little more practice, I just can't tell what's too much and what isn't enough WHERES THE LINE ????
but okay like any suggestions like...what do yall want to see next🙄?
#paige bueckers x reader#brother's best friend#paige bueckers#uconn wbb#wlw post#smut#ilovepaigebueckers
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(God I am such in a shit mood. So here I wrote this.)
It's 1986. Steve falls in love with Eddie first. It's crazy. It's so crazy. He falls in love between the world ending for the fourth time and saving it for real this time. He falls in love between rushing into a hospital Eddie's bleeding body and staying by his bedside.
In the aftermath, they become friends. Real actual friends with a little more trauma than normal friendships but they support each other, help each other grow. They smoke weed, go to the quarry, go bowling. They have hundreds of D&D nights. They co-parents the kids and they drag Eddie to his graduation. They throw parties and pool parties. Go to Indiana to go barhopping and record thrifting. In-between all these moments Steve falls in love. He can't pin point when exactly, but maybe he's been in love with Eddie Munson all along.
Steve keeps it in, because their friendship was so much more important. He's the closest thing Steve will have as a bestfriend (Robin's not counted, because Robin's not just his bestfriend). The pining, the yearning, the longing, it's okay. It's okay as long as he has Eddie beside him and it's so much better than not having him.
It's 1991. It's 1991 when Steve finally cannot take it. He wants so much more with Eddie. By now, they've moved to Chicago, they're both struggling adults but at least they're together and what he feels for Eddie is killing him inside. He knows Eddie doesn't feel the same. He knows. But Steve still wants to tell him so he can hear it from Eddie's lips, that he doesn't feel the same, so Steve can just fucking move on.
Steve tells him. Steve tells him on a rainy evening. Eddie looks shocked, like he's never even thought about it and it truly hurts more than anything. Steve would rather get eaten by demobats again than this. Steve tells him that it's okay if he doesn't feel the same way. He just wants Eddie to reject him so he can finally, finally move on. Eddie looks at him, and tells him, "I will always love you, Stevie. But I don't think I've ever loved you in that way." They move out of their shared apartment, a mutual decision on both their sides.
They both stay in Chicago. They stay best friends who meets up every Friday night for a drink. They have lunches together. They talk about the kids and share tidbits of secrets that was supposed to be secrets. They're best friends and it's everything Steve Harrington has wanted as he tries to finally move on.
It's 1996. The whole Party is in town for whatever reason. They don't really need a reason to see each other. They're in Robin and Nancy's shared home. Eddie's DM-ing just like the old times.
Eddie's working at a small music studio as a Producer. It's nothing big yet, but he's finally in that stage in his life that he's happy and he's done something real in his life. Steve's getting his Phd in Child Psychology and it takes everything in Eddie to not tease and call him Doctor every fucking waking minute.
They're having a snack break in between the campaign. Eddie's sitting and eating on the couch when Robin plops down beside him, throwing her legs on his lap. They're still close, they see each other almost every other week. They laugh as they watch Steve and Dustin wrangle each other for a drink or a snack, no ones really sure.
"Hey, Eds?" Eddie hums, looking over at Robin.
"I am glad you and Steve stayed friends." The confession surprises him. They never talked about it after that night, some part of Eddie knows that Robin knows but they've never talked about it too.
"Of course, we stayed friends. Why wouldn't we?" Eddie answers, his voice unsure of why Robin is even bringing this up right now. It's been 5 years since that rainy night.
"I don't know. You know that love where you feel like you'll explode if you don't tell them? Like the one that makes you feel like your a ticking time bomb?" Eddie shakes his head as Robin continues, "That's what Steve had for you. I guess that love was also enough to just love you as a friend. I am glad you're both happy." Robin kisses his cheek before leaving.
Eddie stares at Steve, really looks at him, as he laughs and smiles with the kids as they catch up with their lives and Eddie watches as if in command, Steve turning to him like a boat finding his lighthouse. Steve smiles at him and it's a different one, his eyes crinkle into crescent moons and Eddie swears his eyes shine in the dark room and a bomb explodes in his heart.
Eddie tries to remember every time he felt this way around Steve. The day he wakes up from the hospital, the day he graduates high school, the day they drop of Dustin to college, the day they move in to their apartment, the day Steve told him that he loved him, every goddamn day in between.
And god, Eddie's the biggest fucking idiot. Eddie's been a ticking time bomb in the last ten years and he always thought it was just nothing. It was normal to love someone this much because, you know, he saved his life and Steve's his bestfriend. He didn't even realize he loves Steve, but that means nothing now, he's already five years too late. He's seen Steve going on dates, trying to move on from him and he even supported him.
It's 2000. Britney Spears is everywhere and Eddie Munson is still in love with Steve Harrington. He stops dating, gives up on it all together. He's the one pining, yearning and longing now and he hates it only because this is what Steve felt for so long and Eddie can't believe he even didn't notice.
Eddie's content in it. He missed his chance, he missed it by five years when Steve held out his heart to him in his palm. Eddie's happy in every aspect in his life. Eddie is working as a Producer in a big company now, if you see the latest big hit you can usually see his name in the writers and producers. He just bought Wayne his first apartment, he has a cat named Sabbath. Max and Lucas just got married. Robin and Nancy are adopting kids. Dustin is ring shopping. Will and Mike finally got their shit together. Steve is in the peak of his career, he's writing a book about child abandonment issues and teaching classes and giving seminars in his free time while dating the most gorgeous girl Eddie's ever seen. Eddie swears that if he isn't gay, she would be his type, not only that but she's actually kind and good to Steve. She works as a social worker and is an actual angel on earth and no matter what Eddie does, he doesn't have it in him to hate her. They're all sure they're headed to marriage. The kids all love her, and has Robin's stamp of approval. He is happy. Everyone is happy.
There's a big gaping hole in his heart that only Steve Harrington can fill and he doesn't know what to do when he stays up at night, in a big cold bed, alone, filled with regrets or when they're at parties and Steve's laughing with her and Eddie thinks that could've been him.
But it's okay, Eddie will swallow his feelings because the love of his life is happy. It's okay as long as he has Steve beside him because being his bestfriend, even if that means he'll have to stand behind him at his future wedding, is better than not having Steve in his life.
-> part two
#MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH SUFFER WITH ME#right person but theyre both idiots#steddie rants#steddie#daeheadcanons#steve harrington x eddie munson#steddie fanfic#steddie headcanon#steddie fic rec#steddie fic#steddie ficlet#steve harrington x eddie munson angst
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Immature sorceres
a/n: sorry for being m.i.a from writing, I just didn't have the energy to finish any of my ideas and things have been chaotic at home lately. But it's been solved! And I'm going on holiday soon so that's exciting.
cw: none
synopsis: a day with Gojo who has a crush on you, and the lengths he goes to in keeping it a secret. (Worst synopsis you've read, I'm open to ideas to rename it)
credits: none
Check my masterlist for further updates to this series: delulu chidish
"So, how much do you actually like y/n?" Geto asks Gojo. Gojo replies, "Oh, you know... Like a normal amount. If they ask me out right now, I would say yes with absolutely no hesitation."
Geto smirks at Gojo and states knowingly, "I don't see how checking y/n's social media profile every half an hour is normal, so I'm concerned with what you deem as normal... but considering it's you, nothing is normal." Gojo gets defensive and starts shouting at Geto, while Geto, being the instigator he is, adds more fuel to the fire.
Soon after, they're chasing each other around the basketball court while shouting profanities at each other. Shoko huffs a tired sigh and takes another puff from her cigarette, muttering about the immaturity of the two powerful sorcerers. As the chase intensifies, she calmly exhales smoke rings, seemingly unbothered.
Shoko texts you to come over to the basketball court, and you reply, saying that you'll be there in a few minutes.
When you arrive at the entrance of the basketball court, the first thing you notice are your black and white-haired friends wrestling each other on the ground. Shoko, on the other hand, is no better and is egging them both on while recording their wrestling match on her phone.
You sigh tiredly at the chaos unfolding before you. "Can't the two of you act your age for once?" You sigh exasperatedly, but they don't hear you. Shoko exhales a plume of smoke and calmly remarks, "They're just blowing off steam, Y/N. It's their way of bonding." You shake your head and mutter, "More like their way of causing trouble." Shoko laughs at your remark.
You can hear both of them grunting and saying something to each other when you hear your name roll out of Geto's mouth as he smirks at Gojo. You see that Gojo has gone wide-eyed and gasped dramatically before starting to screech at Geto once more. Geto, on the other hand, is laughing his ass off and has a smug expression, as if he's holding something over Gojo.
As the two of them continue their raucous chase, you and Shoko walk over to the entrance and take a seat on one of the benches. Shoko says to you, "You know, despite their immaturity, they care about each other more than they'd admit."
A voice from the entrance says, "Maybe, but they have a strange way of showing it." You and Shoko turn around to see your sensei, Yaga, standing menacingly and staring straight at the black and white-haired duo with his arms crossed.
The black and white-haired duo in question have now moved on to pulling at each other's faces, which made their speech slurred. Yaga shouts at them, "Here I am giving you a break, and this is what you do?".
Gojo scrambles to get off Geto and defend himself, but before he can, Geto interrupts him and says, "Actually, Gojo started getting physical first. All I did was say, Stalking Y/(your name)-," but before he could finish, Gojo had tackled Geto onto the floor and slapped a hand on Geto's mouth.
"HAHAHA SUGURU YOU'RE SO FUNNY BRO SO FUNNY, I'll do your laundry for a week if you shut up right now." Gojo mutters the last quietly to Geto, who smiles triumphantly and takes up Gojo's offer immediately.
Yaga sighs and mumbles quietly, "And you still have the cheek to tackle Geto right in front of me."
-
Gojo is getting reprimanded by Yaga at the side while the three of you sit together near the benches. When Geto takes a seat between you and Shoko, you ask him, "I heard you say my name while tustling with Satoru just now; what was that about?"
"Oh, it's nothing; I was just teasing him. Did you see his face? It was absolutely hilarious."
When Gojo is done being reprimanded by Yaga, he sulkily walks over and sits next to you on the empty side. He leans his head on your shoulder, and Poutily says, "It's not fair... I didn't even start it, but I'm the one being scolded, and on top of that, I have to do Suguru's laundry. Life just isn't fair."
After Gojo finishes his dramatics, he buries his face into the crook of your neck. You're about to push him off and tell him that his hair is tickling you, but before you could do so, you heard him mumble something along the lines of asking someone out, and then a long line of groans followed suit.
After that, you stopped listening because now he's just started saying gibberish and talking about anything that crosses his mind.
"Well, if you're free next Thursday afternoon, we could go to this new café that opened. It sells a variety of sweet and savory foods, and I've been wanting to go." You ask Gojo as you pat his hair gently as a way to comfort him.
Gojo looks up at you through his sunglasses and asks, "Just you and me?".
You stare at him for a bit before answering, "I mean, sure, why not? I initially wanted all of us to go, including Nanami and Haibara, but... we could go ourselves too."
"Really?! Good! But you gotta promise not to bail on me," Gojo exclaims happily.
You nod your head in agreement, and Gojo's back to being his exuberant self.
Gojo in this entire fic is literally the embodiment of: 😔
#gojo satoru x reader#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#gojo x reader#gojo x reader fluff#satoru gojo x reader#satoru x reader
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Hey! I was wondering if I could do a UCLA!jessie smut? Where the reader isn’t a virgin per se but maybe has never used a strap on or anything like that and is rlly innocent and needs a hand with that stuff? If not that’s chill too😊
the way I asked that was so strange 😭
ohhhhh fuck yes.
something new j.f x r
plot: Jessie wants to try something new in the bedroom and doesn't know how to tell you
warning: fluffy smut
Jessie was very smart, she was very good in school and always had been. She ran laps around you, especially in Science, and as her personal girlfriend, you used it to your advantage, stealing her notes every so often and asking her questions at 2 in the morning that you knew she would answer.
Except for the last week Jessie had been distracted...
You didn't know what from, You both had to leave for the Olympics to represent your countries soon and it was your senior year, you assumed she was stressed.
You walked into her dorm with your books for science as she was stuck on her phone, an unusual sight.
"Hey" You smiled, walking in the door as the girl quickly dropped her phone, a blush spreading over her cheeks "Hey" she said after and you furrowed her brows.
You settled your books down at her desk "I saw you were off in class today so I tried really hard to take down notes, and I voice recorded sir's class so we could go over it" you explained, flipping through your pages.
"You did that for me?" Jessie asked, standing up and walking over to you, wrapping her arms around you from behind.
You looked up to her "I assumed your mind was running lately and I didn't want to add any stress" you smiled and the girl squeezed you tighter to her.
"I hadn't even realized I was doing that," Jessie said, kissing you on the cheek before checking your notes.
"They're not the best-" "I love them," Jessie said, her chin digging into your shoulder "I love you" you smiled "I love you too".
Jessie was mentally yelling at herself.
She had many friends, as well as you on the UCLA team but some were closer than others, meaning some were more invested in your relationship than others.
It wasn't until a certain Australian goalkeeper got nosy and started teasing Jessie that she came to an understanding.
It was at a party, you had gone back to the Netherlands to see your family for the weekend and Teagan had taken Jessie to a frat party, which she spent the whole time checking her phone from a message from you and drinking random drinks that her friends told her to try out of boredom.
"How are you and y/n?" Teagan asked and Jessie blushed, causing the Australian to roll her eyes playfully "We're good" Jessie replied
"Just good?" Teagan teased and Jessie groaned "what? do you want me to say we're getting married?"
"maybe"
The two girls laughed "What about you Miss I get so many girls" Jessie shot back at her friend who smirked "Oh well I leave all my 'relationships' satisfied" Jessie almost spat out her drink from laughter in disbelief "It's true" Teagan told her "especially when I bring out the strap" Teagan smirked and Jessie looked at her.
"You use a strap?"
Teagan nodded "you don't?" she asked and Jessie shook her head, shocking Teagan "really?" once again Jessie shook her head "I guess we've just never thought about it"
Teagan not long after found a girl to take home sending Jessie a large gestured wink before leaving.
Jessie's mind had been spiraling ever since.
She imagined you under her, taking in her strap for the first time, the noises you could make under her drove her crazy.
Every time you made a sound that could be equivalent to a moan, grunt or even just you saying her name softly made her have to squeeze her legs together in class. There was no way that she could pay attention in class when you constantly leaned your head back out of frustration of not getting the work, which usually Jessie would help with.
She didn't know how to bring up this new issue she had with you, she didn't know how you would react or even if you would like it. Her imagination of bending you over pieces of furniture in her dorm were driving her mad and if she asked you and you said no, she didn't know how she would react.
So maybe not telling you would be a good idea.
But now you were looking at her with a glint in your eye and she felt like she was about to combust.
"Are you okay?" You ask your girlfriend who had a small blush painted on her cheeks "yeah I'm fine" she told you but you shook your head "Are you worried for the Olympics?" you ask and the brunette shook her head "not particularly"
You nodded your head slowly, trying to read if your girlfriend was telling the truth "well if it's not the Olympics what's up?
Jessie looked at you before looking at a plastic bag she had in the corner and looked back to you.
"It is the Olympics actually"
You rolled your eyes "liar" you pointed at her chest "what it is Canada has a good chance and what if we verse each other?"
You pushed your girlfriend towards her bed "then we try our hardest, like we talked about before I went home last week" you aid calmly before she sat down, her hands resting on your waist.
"I guess I'm just frustrated" Jessie sighed, her eyes settling on the piece of skin her hands were brushing over.
You smirked, looking down on your girlfriend "sexually?"
Jessie's face burned, how did you know?, did you guess? Had you somehow read her mind and knew she wanted to pound into you until you didn't have enough energy to speak english?
well maybe that took it a bit far...
Jessie was always an over thinker.
You grabbed your girlfriends chin to look up to you "well are you?" you ask and the Canadian nodded.
"Jessie, you know you can get me into bed easily" you smirked, plopping down next to her, one of your legs wrapping around her own "I know it's just-" Jessie stopped herself as you leaned into her "what is it Jess?"
You knew you could get anything out of her by using that small nickname.
"I want to try something new" she stated softly and you sat up, an eager smile on your face "really?" you ask and she nodded "I just wasn't sure how to approach it"
You nodded, softly kissing your girlfriends lips "we have a safe place here Jess, anything we do or say stays with us" you told her and she nodded saying a small 'okay' before turning to you "can we just get into the vibe first?" she asked and you smiled nodding, softly pushing your girlfriend down into the bed before straddling her lap "like this?"
"this works" Jessie smiled before you leant down, capturing her in a kiss.
You grew wet at her words when she said she wanted to try something new, excited by the thought and intrigued.
As you kept kissing her, slightly grinding your hips into hers you felt her hand sneak up your shirt, her hands playing with your boobs since you came in your pajama's.
"I want" Jessie said as you pulled away slightly, just enough so she could get her words out "I want to fuck you with a strap?"
Jessie leaned back to see your reaction, her eyes trying to find an answer before you spoke.
You smiled before nodding "I'd like that" Jessie smiled "yeah?" and you kissed her lips again "yeah, I trust you with anything"
You saw the girl quickly look to the bag in the corner again "Did you buy one?" you ask and the girl shyly nodded "Do you want to try it tonight?" you ask and she nodded again, more eagerness in this one as you hopped off of her.
"Show me it" you said as the girl got up, grabbing the bag before sitting back down on the bed with you "having it out in the open?" you tease
"you act like you aren't the only person I let in here"
You both smiled as she pulled it out, a black harness with a fairly shaped purple strap latched onto it "My favorite colour" you praised before pulling her into a kiss.
Pulling away Jessie pointed at you "we can't go straight in" she said and you nodded "Good cause I thought that might hurt" you agreed, letting the girl switch positions with you, her on top of you now.
"Do you know how to use it?" You asked and she nodded "I uhm- I watched some video's" she cringed at her own sentance before you looked back to when you came inside "Where you watching porn before I got here?" you asked and the girl turned red "shut up" you laughed "you do love to learn" you hummed as your girlfriend leaned in "at least I can teach you now".
Your tops had been abandoned now on the floor as Jessie's lips trailed down your stomach, her fingertips, tiptoeing around your waist band before you lifted your hips, telling her to take them off which she did before spreading your legs apart.
"I think you might be more excited for this than me" she teased, kissing the insides of your thighs You looked down at her "tease me too much and I'll make you wait another night for this" you quipped and the girl laughed, her breath hitting your heat, giving you slight friction you craved "alright, alright" she said before letting her tongue run through your folds, a moan falling through your lips from the impact.
"so good" Jessie moaned from her place beneath you, slowly adding a finger in as her tongue lapped over your clit "just open up for me baby" she told you, her other hand reaching out to hold your boob, using it as a stress toy.
"You can add a second" you whined as Jessie started to increase her speed, obliging your request and adding a second "fuck Jessie" you moaned, your hand reaching out to her hair, keeping her in place as she started to curl her fingers, hitting your G spot.
You were a moaning mess, as Jessie sent you praises "good job baby, just like that" as if you were doing the hard work "Jess s'm so good" you moaned, tugging at her hair which only made her go in harder.
You felt the coil in your stomach tighten as your breaths became faster, your first orgasm building "I'm gonna-" "I know baby let it go"
It was quickly after that you came over Jessie's fingers, the girl spreading your juices all over you, preparing you.
"Fuck you are so good at that" you told Jessie who blushed, bringing you into a kiss so you could taste yourself, both of you moaning at the contact.
Jessie pulled away, standing up as you watched in anticipation of her taking off her joggers and boxers, pulling the strap up her legs before grabbing another cream out of the bag "supposed to make it go in easier" she said "Jessie I know what lube is" you smirked.
Your breath hitched as you saw your girlfriend apply it on the strap, making it look like she was stroking her own cock, turning you on ten times more than you already were.
When Jessie climbed back onto the bed she looked down at you "not even sure we needed that baby, you are so wet" she gawked and you smiled, pulling her down into another kiss "just for you".
Jessie positioned herself with the tip to go inside of you, holding the strap with one hand and your hand with the other.
"Okay big stretch" she said as she slowly went into you, your breath hitching as you squeezed her hand before she fully went in.
She left it in for a moment, leaving small kisses around your chest "you're doing so well for me" she told you as you felt normal again "you ready?" she asked and you nodded.
Jessie slowly moved in and out as your eyes rolled back out of pleasure "Jessie please" you whined as you decided you were ready to go faster which she did "fuck" she breathed out, also getting pleasure off of it.
When Jessie decided to pull out further before entering back into you, you moaned loudly, sending Jessie into a high as she did it again, harder and faster as you were practically screaming out her name.
For the first time Jessie was happy she had an alone dorm near nobody else's.
Your nails were scratching along her back as you both were moaning each others names "fuck Jessie I'm coming" you whined, your pitch going higher as she pounded into you harder, her name falling off your tongue with profanities until you finally snapped, Jessie slowed down her movements letting you get off your high before you pulled away, her slipping out of you easily.
Both of you were capturing your breaths with smiles before Jessie pulled the strap off her body and cuddled into you.
When you finally got your breath back you pulled your girlfriend into a kiss "Jessie" you said and the girl hummed
"The next time you want to try something new, don't wait a week to tell me"
#woso#woso soccer#woso x reader#woso community#jessie fleming#jessie fleming imagine#jessie fleming x reader#jessie fleming smut#chelsea women x reader#chelsea#chelsea women#chelsea wfc#portland thorns#canada women#canada wnt#ucla#womans soccer
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IMREALLYSORRY BUT I CANT WITH MY DAYDREAMING SHI
I've been having a whole scenario in my head and I wanted to ACTUALLY read them from a fanfic
BUT ANYWAY OKAY OKAY SO😭
A oneshot where reader is like an empress of Hell, they're the one who rules all the overlords and owns said overlord's souls, ans also the founder of overlords, but their power is just right below Lucifer's and Lilith's
The timeline takes place right after the fight between Adam and the exorcists vs the Hotel
So like, the hotel is rebuilt! And Charlie has received a few actual customers that wanted to be redeemed
And Alastor feels like there's something going to happen that it's making him all tingly and nervous, and it did!
And then, reader like showed up, but under disguise (Charlie is like a niece figure to reader) but then again Charlie doesn't recognize them because they're in disguise for some purposes (I'll let you decide 🥰)
And Alastor, was completely shook, he WAS NOT EXPECTING READER AT ALL
Though he was QUICK to realize that reader was in disguise, so he just slightly scrambles to introduce himself even though he's hiding his excitement and nervousness
After all Alastor was eager to please his master, he also ended up dropping his radio vintage voice in the process
"Alastor, pleasure to be meeting you, *quite* the pleasure! What brings you to this fine establishment madame?" literally took their hand and kisses it
And reader is just like
"I may have been in need for a place to stay. But I heard Vox had cameras everywhere, and this was the only hotel I could have privacy"
Vox was an overlord ofcourse, he's also on Ravine's command, but Vox always had cameras stalking Ravine, which Vox calls it.. "keeping an eye for protection"
And since Alastor was the Radio Demon, every camera breaks of crashes if he was recorded, qnd it counts the hotel! That's why Ravine came to the hotel in the first place, and they explained Charlie that he didn't need to be redeemed, just a place to stay at the moment and Charlie wouldn't refuse someone in need. After all if Charlie refused Alastor will find a way to make her
it made Alastor slightly annoyed at Vox displeasing reader
But also boosted his ego and pride! Maybe once he saw Vox again he would rub it on Vox's face that reader came to him for a place to stay instead~
And after all that chatty yada yada or tour
Reader and Alastor finally had a real private talk at Alastor's radio tower! This part is a bit angsty but fluffy
They catch up and then Ravine brought up Alastor's wound in his chest caused by Adam, along with his mic/cane that he was not holding no more
Alastor tried to brush the topic off, feeling ashamed
But reader insisted. They ended up locating the wound exactly and placed a hand over it before Alastor could protest, and healed him
And Alastor didn't have a choice but to melt into the touch, his fluffy ears pulling back in the process
And maybe just reader teasing Alastor for his deer habits
Or an extra scene of Alastor stating that reader came to him and rubbed it on Vox's face
THAT'S ALL EVEN THOUGH ITS SO KUCH
ANYWAY TAKE YOUR TIME DRINK WATER AND EAT AND ILYSM
Let's try something~ Here's a spoil on the next story I have written~ Will be out in a few hours.
Now this is a newer request, but it was so unique (and the longest request I got I think) that it got me thinking, so I had to write it. Haha~
Collection of Overlords = Requested
[Alastor x Soul Owner of All Overlords!Reader]
P.S. It's out now~
Other Works: MASTERLIST
#Circe's Nighty Writings#Circe's requested writings#alastor imagine#alastor x reader#alastor x y/n#alastor x you#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel alastor#alastor headcanons#alastor fanfiction#alastor#hazbin hotel oneshots#hazbin hotel imagines#hazbin hotel fanfiction#Collection of Overlords
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I SEE SLOT REQUEST OPEN— IG??
Can i request a fluff with Octa trio(separately) on a date but being disturbed by the first year by questioning “why are you dating with this shady guy mom— you could’ve get better step father for us.” ace said…
AHAHAHAHAHA I JUST WANT CHAOS DURING TTHE DATE BETWEEN THE TRIO THAT WOULD BE FLABBERGASTED OR SHOCKED AND SPEECHLESS BY WHAT ACE SAYING THAT😭
that time where you became a parent | octavinelle
premise. there's a lot of firsts in relationships and getting your date crashed by your partner's self-proclaimed kids for the first time is apparently one as well.
cw. mention of getting tortured once (brief), someone disappears, mention of mafia as a comparison to the octa trio, not proofread
includes. gender neutral reader, fluff
note. hi yes, after ten years /j I've decided to test my flexibility with requests since I plan to take up commisions 😚
also ik that cw is really concerning but it's nothing bad in the writing i swear!! also you sent this ask a few hours ago (4) but I'm already done?? wow
hey also im so sorry I just realized you used a feminine term 'mom' and i only realized after I finished writing 💀 you didn't specify the reader and I didn't notice so I thought it's like gender neutral my bad!
azul ashengrotto | all of the above
"azul you've been frozen for a minute,, are you okay?"
"I'm,,, fine?" he thinks?
ace snorts. "dude you call that fine? you look like you just saw one of ursula's tentacles get cut off,"
shocked? flabbergasted? speechless? azul is just one huge combination of those three even though they're pretty much the same thing. he's just suprised, albeit a little disturbed that your... five grown men friends—also your apparent 'children' have now kidnapped you as their parent and is planning to make him a step-father without his consent!
he looks at you with a blink as if to as 'what in the great seven are they talking about' meanwhile you just shrug and take a bite out of the lunch azul had just bought you, thoroughly enjoying it because come on. who wouldn’t enjoy free food? it's your right as his partner to experience getting spoiled but that doesn't mean you don't get to not like it.
judging by the casual, indifferent demeanor you display and even your unbothered face? azul can tell that this happens lots of times and at some point you had accepted it.
also the ursula comment.. he got offended on her behalf, no way the great ursula would even let that happen to her. she's the epitome of greatness! plus... he'll have your bratty child know that octopuses can regrow a limb!
wait a minute.
azul sputtered and frowned defensively. "excuse me? shady?" he'll have them know that he is a perfectly—perfect father for your children! there is no 'better' because he simply is the best.
oh azul... who's gonna tell him that he's obviously showing off whenever your grown 'kids' are around in hopes of getting their approval? no one apparently cause ace thinks it's too funny for it to be stopped and he needs seriously good entertainment that matches up to this level.
god lord if anyone sees him snooping around the library on topics that typically interest teens.. or jade leaking out the fact that he sent the tweels to collect information about the five.. that makes for good blackmail according to them and he's starting to get concerned with how many material they had gotten from him.
ㅤ
jade leech | more amused than suprised
"I believe that I am capable of reaching the standards of your 'children'," a chuckle.
epel quips over from the side casually, toning his pitch up a notch to showcase the knowing voice. "hows your criminal record? clean?"
the chuckling ceases.
okay maybe he can reach their expectations in ways that doesn't involve a clean record. in his defense that person had crossed a line so jade had to... remind them which line to stay behind. it's not like epel knows that the speeding ticket was just a cover up for the more concerning one and as much as jade liked to tell the tale, he supposes he'd get much more disagreement if he told the other story, so he resorted to talking about the less... severe crime.
jack in particular voices his disagreement, more so when jade had commented on craving meat while eyeing jack in a way that the buff man immediately got offended and snitched to you.
safe to say that as much as you love your concerning, tall, red flag boyfreind he's definitely gonna feel the heat from your glare. that day jade learned not to mess with jack cause despite how ironically strong the man is? apparently he's a pretty big snitch cause he always goes to you and tries to 'convince' you that even kalim makes a better lover.
jade did not like that at all. why like the excruciatingly boring sunshine of scarabia? I mean come on, over kalim and jade? who's less boring? he questions you with a particularly coy smile.
for your sake, he supposes. the five troublesome first years had gotten less treatment for him nowadays and he's made it perfectly clear that he has the capability to mess with them once again, be it in a battle of mentality, or strength. but just cause he let them off doesn't mean their off the hook yet! which is great because with the subtly implications he had made meant that jack with the quick mouth wouldn't be so quick to snitch on him.
for a guy who tortur—I mean, gave a perfectly justified punishment to a sinner jade is pretty childish and competitive to prove that he's a pretty damn good boyfriend that no one,,, absolutely no one (not even your kids lol) can mess with.
ㅤ
floyd leech | thinks it's really funny and wants to be the dad
"awww.. shrimpy you didn't tell me you got a whole troupe of baby shrimpies," floyd giggles.
"I mean they didn't tell me that I was their parent too so,"
"hmph! calling the prefect my parent would be disrespecting master lilia!" sebek bemoaned—loudly despite accepting a parental scold about volume from you.
most of the sentence that ace commented about him being... shady? just went in one ear and out the other. I mean yeah, he isn't gonna blow the 'cover' but they're mafia type shit shady and he can't exactly deny what they see. and apparently what ace sees is that you need a better 'husband' and they need a better 'step-father' to which floyd replied a; "there's no one else. you're stuck with me baby shrimpies,"
floyd's grin was very ominous but when was it not? though his specific harder emphasis on 'no one' concerns you a little and you even had a moment of realization because besides that one guy who miraculously disappeared after he flirted witn you quite literally disappeared from thin air... who else approached you after that?
but just like any other MC you shrug it off :) (for the sake of the plot)
for some reason floyd believes the family thing wholly and had now squeezed himself into it—to the dismay and endless complaints from sebek. besides the obvious dislike the angry teen had out for him, floyd seems to think the opposite and even finds sebek amusing! (to the further suffering of sebek floyd had requested for him to call him dad)
sebek refused of course and explained he already had a father and simply could not!
floyd took it the wrong way and asked you if you were seeing another person 😭 I mean there's only one person 'lilia' in the school and from sebek's 'master-lilia' from their conversation it's clear that the boy was referring to whoever lilia is as his father so he tried to get jade up in it (who loved the idea of storming diasomnia but hell, even jade was wary of the nobody floyd never heard of in his life!)
^ coughs that was his jealousy speaking. in the end jade outright talked him out of it and told him that he could always spread some.. things since it always works.
out of jealousy floyd had told you that lilia sounds like a 5 year old name and is lame. jealousy may come in fire but floyd's come in grude. you just feel kinda bad for lilia lol
ㅤ
── ko-fi
#ㅤ◜◡◝ . . signed !#twstnexus#twisted wonderland#twst#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#twisted wonderland headcanons#twisted wonderland scenarios#twisted wonderland imagines#twst fluff#azul ashengrotto x reader#azul ashengrotto#jade leech x reader#jade leech#floyd leech#floyd leech x reader#x gn reader
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Hiiii if you can can you please write Seventeen as dads please? 🥺
as a no1 dilf lover i sure can
{ gender neutral apart from cheol & mingyu because i HAD to. }
seventeen as dads
cheol - would beg for a daughter, and spoil her greatly, anything she wanted was hers. he's her biggest fan and would sign her up to so many sports, making sure to never miss a match. he'd make banners to hold up for her to cheer her on, he's so intense he almost got thrown out when he started arguing with the ref. they would have nightly gossip sessions where she could rant about her day. he would be her rock, someone she could always go to for anything
jeonghan - borderline dangerous with children because he would swing and throw them around. thinks that kids should be free to do what they want (within reason) and just asks them to come home for dinner. he trusts his kid a lot and is a very chill parent but when they start acting out he does NOT let them get away with it and is very judgmental "this is what you do with your time? do something better with your life..."
joshua - babies his kid forever and they're always an angel in his eyes. constantly says "remember when you were this big? time flies" and always reminisces. you catch him looking through photographs late at night, especially the night before their birthday. cries at every milestone and is so touched when they handmake anything for him. loves them so much, he is so grateful for them
jun - a very playful dad who is a big kid himself really. enjoys playtime as much as they do (maybe even more) and is often the one to ask them if they want to play. as they get older he teaches them everything he knows. he just really enjoys doing activities with them! teaching them to cook, to play the piano, to paint. there's mini juns running about all over the place
hoshi - the jokester, the comedian, the free entertainment for the whole family. his fav sound is his kid's laughter and will do anything to hear it. when he tucks them into bed he gives them kisses down their arms and on their feet. he can't help rolling around on their bed attacking them with kisses. (and ofc he constantly roams around his house as a tiger. paints both their faces as tigers, his tiger cub <3)
wonwoo - quite bashful around his kid but the little things he will do for them and go out of his way for show how much he loves them. he would do whatever they say and happily watch them do what they want because they're so cute. they know they have him wrapped around their tiny fingers and he does not care one bit. is definitely giving them lifts everywhere when they're older so they don't have to pay taxi fare
woozi - plays the piano and sings to get them to calm down and stop crying and it works every time. loves recording their baby voice and lets them make their own music tracks even though it stresses him out letting their grubby hands touch his stuff. he composes a lullaby for them (edward cullen style). never seen him as happy as when he's with his baby
dk - buys so many outfits because he cannot go past the baby section without dying of cuteness at how small and cute all the clothes are. photographs every little thing and is very protective, always there to catch his baby incase they fall or stumble. definitely the embarrassing dad who tries to be funny around their friends if they come over
mingyu - has mini dates with his daughter, getting her ready himself and doing her hair (badly). they go to see a movie together and a cafe after, sharing cake and a milkshake. househusband is naturally a great father and his heart bursts when she clings to him, following him around while he does chores. he buys matching aprons so they can cook together, the kitchen ends up a mess but the amount of giggling makes up for it
minghao - he's so nurturing and in tune to what children need and treats them as mini adults, respecting their space and emotions. the only thing he wants his kid to be is kind, constantly teaching them to respect others. his fav part of the day would be bedtime, he would stay with them until they fell asleep, stroking their hair and telling them stories
seungkwan - will fight children. if his kid gets bullied he will storm into the school to find who hurt his baby and he would get banned from the premises. (tbh he's terrified of children tho they're scary) he also teases his kid a lot and only stops once they start doing it back but he's glad that they learnt to fight their own corner from the very best. definitely a soccer mom
vernon - thinks his kid is so funny and laughs at whatever they do (lovingly). constantly plays music for them in hopes that as they grow up they'll have the same music taste. i think he would be the more submissive dad who lets them do makeup on his face and put stickers and fake tats on him, and would be the patient if they played doctor. when they got older he would take them bowling and to the arcade
dino - nothing he's achieved compares to being a father, he loves his kid so much, such a proud dad. has a photo of them in his wallet and shows it to everyone he can. feels like he'll explode every time he comes home and hears "daddy!". he would take his kid to the dance studio with him so they could make cute choreo together. although he would love for his kid to follow in his footsteps, he urges them to find what they want to do and would be so supportive no matter what.
#seventeen#svt#svt scenarios#seventeen scenarios#svt imagines#seventeen imagines#svt fluff#svt reactions#seventeen reactions#seventeen ot13#scoups#jeonghan#joshua#jun#hoshi#wonwoo#woozi#dk#mingyu#minghao#seungkwan#vernon#dino
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Can we get some more 9th member x skz talk? maybe some pervy action with that topic too. like feeling her up during lives or in the studio. idk sumn like that.
perv!ot8 skz x 9th female member
perv!ot8 who tells you that you don't have to leave the room to change into your music show outfit , "we promise we won't look." but the moment you turn around they're all opening their eyes taking a peak.
perv!chan who invites you to be a guest on chans room and touches you through your panties, you let out a whine but cover it up saying you have a headache and the comments are going crazy about how he's so attentive towards you thinking he's whispering in your ear if you're okay or something when in reality it's something totally different. "do you want them to know you're a naughty girl letting me touch you like this?"
perv!minho who tells you to come to the dance studio so he could help you fix your mistakes in the choreo before the comeback , eyeing you up and down when you come in with your leggings and sports bra. his hands are constantly going down, grabbing your ass, when you shyly push his hand away, he flips it on you. "why are you trying to rile me up then , you aren't slick."
perv!changbin who agrees to help you record your skz-player , meeting you in the studio alone, you're in the little box for a while , getting ready to give up because changbin keeps telling you to do it over , "does that sound good." you almost start to cry he says "not yet , do it one more time." you whine , doing what you're told , what you don't notice is changing fisting his cock to your voice.
perv!hyunjin who begs you to do a dance with him , and picks the dirtiest song that he could , saying "it's just a dance , we're professionals." but nothing about what he's about to do is professional, grabbing your waist , pulling you flush against his hardening cock , groaning into your ear , coping a feel of your boobs when he goes to do a specific move. "you're lucky that camera is there."
perv!han who tells you to sit in his lap while you're in the studio writing a song together claiming "because i'll work better if you're really close to me." , but you can barely get any lyrics down because because he's too busy rutting his hips against your ass. "j...jisung what are you doing?" "nothing love , keep writing your lyrics , this needs to be done today."
perv!felix pulls you into his lap when you complain about having to sit on the floor , "there now you don't have to." smirking at your flustered state. "they're asking if you're sick, you're a little red." he read the comment, "are you sick?" he bit back a smirk as you tried to explain that you are a little sick, but he knows you're lying , he knows it's because he's grinding his hard cock against you, whispering in your ear. "good girl."
perv!seugmin who agrees to help you with your vocals , meeting you in the dance room, "minnie we've been doing the same thing for hours, my throat hurts." he is so sick of your complaining. "come here." he sits unbuckling his pants , your flustered state making his cock harder , "get on your knees , i'll really make your throat hurt."
perv!jeongin who corners you in the unoccupied area of the music bank hallway , your outfit showed a lot more skin than normal and jeongin couldn't hold himself back anymore , "i..innie." you pushed at his chest, looking around to see if anyone was looking "that skirt is so fucking short." he pushed your thighs apart , his hand finding it's way into your safety shorts. "so messy, gonna cum right before you go on stage."
#luvyeni: skz hard thoughts#skz hard hours#skz hard thoughts#skz smut#skz headcanons#stray kids hard thoughts#stray kids hard hours#stray kids smut#stray kids headcanons#bang chan hard hours#bang chan hard thoughts#lee know hard thoughts#lee know hard hours#changbin hard hours#changbin hard thoughts#hyunjin hard hours#hyunjin hard thoughts#han jisung hard thoughts#han jisung hard hours#lee felix hard thoughts#lee felix hard hours#seungmin hard thoughts#seungmin hard hours#jeongin hard hours#jeongin hard thoughts
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