#there were other things but I can’t remember them
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i feel it coming, babe
technically the sequel to a little less conversation this is yet another piece for girlies (gn) with bad sex experiences <3 remember sometimes it takes more than once to get it right honeys :D 12k words, fem!reader, MDNI THIS ENTIRE BLOG IS 18+
Okay so, you’ll admit, you might be beginning to get it.
A smidge. A pinch.
It’s just— well, how are you not supposed to understand it? How can you not get the thrill and fervour over sex when it’s with Steve and he looks like that. All golden tan skin and hazel eyes that look at you like he might eat you whole and— and he treats you like…
Like there was never anything wrong with you.
Even after that balmy afternoon spent in his sheets, with his mouth between your thighs, pulling noises out of you that you’d never even heard before, he’s been so perfectly so. Not pushy, yet still that lingering hunger you can see simmering beneath his skin, hidden in the flex of his fingers.
Part of you almost worries, a little niggle burrowed in the back of your mind, that it was all a fluke.
That nothing had really changed all that much between you— that the next time things start getting heated, the chemistry won’t be there. Or it’ll be weird and off, or you will be, and really, you were probably lucky to have that first time with Steve so good but you can’t expect that again.
But then… there is one difference at least, to combat all your swarming thoughts a fluke. The kisses.
When you think of Steve Harrington and his playboy past, you can’t say, of the words tossed around in the high school corridor, that clingy is something that comes to mind. Not that he had been described as anything other than charming… but you don’t mind pleasant surprise of coming to learn this about Steve.
It means kisses all the time.
On your hands, scattered across your knuckles, when he’s dropping you home from a date. Kisses pressed to your hair and forehead, when he’s scooching past you, when he’s saying hello and his hands are busy, when you sit between his legs on the sofa.
He kisses your shoulders, up along the curve of your neck just to see if it’ll still make you laugh a bit when he finds that ticklish spot beneath your ear. Adores sweeping back your hair to plant a kiss against your skin with the sweetest little ‘mwah!’ so quiet you don’t think you’re meant to hear it.
And your lips… you don’t think they’ve ever been so kiss-bitten in your life.
One night with Steve can leave them blooming with colour, all the blood beneath them rushing with pleasure as he kisses your mouth soft — sometimes hard, sometimes sweet, always maddeningly.
He greets you with a kiss always, one hand curled gently around your chin to tilt it up perfectly. And always after, a grin spreads across his face, brown eyes crinkling and pink lips barely restrained his joy.
“Hi, sweetheart.” He’ll always says, or some variation.
Which, yeah, that’s new too. Sweetheart. You haven’t quite figured out how to not melt to a gloopy gooey mess when he says it just yet. It’s a damn good thing that your boyfriend is a gentleman and he politely doesn’t comment when you fluster, only gets the smallest hint of a smirk.
For all your past worries about not kissing him for fear of leading him on, you hadn’t realise quite how much you were depriving yourself of affection. Steve’s certainly turning you greedy— and he’s all too happy to sate your appetite for it.
Today, it’s drizzly. The colour of the sky is a bright ashen grey, enough to warrant a headache and inspire a day inside. In the distance, you can see the thunder clouds rolling in and bringing a blanket of shadow with them.
They reach overhead much quicker than you’re expecting and you’re barely a block out from Steve's house before the rain starts coming down.
Try as you might, raincoat tucked tight around you, you’re still a bit drenched by the time you make it to Steve’s doorstep. One freezing finger presses the door bell. A chime sounds inside.
You rub your hands together to try warm them as you wait, cringing at the whisk of wind that twirls your hair up and about. Your hands shoot up and you nervously flatten the wild strands back down— right as Steve opens the door.
He’s got a towel around his neck, one hand scrubbing it into his wet hair. Judging from his ruffled t-shirt — put on in a rush and exposing his tummy — he’s just got out the shower. He looks surprised but happy to see you.
“Sweetheart, hi-hoooooly shit,” He sticks his head out the door, eyes wide as he takes in the weather. His hair flicks as he turns back to you. “Did you walk the whole way from your house? In the rain?”
Your shoulders form a meek shrug. Before you can speak, his hands are on your shoulders, tugging you inside, across the doorway. He kicks it shut behind you.
“Christ, honey, what’d you do that for?” His hands fret a little bit, rubbing at your shoulders. He gently picks a piece of hair that’s stuck to your cheek, placing it behind your ear.
“I mean,” You start, a little confused. Your hands tighten on your overnight bag, wringing the handle tightly. He knew you were coming over, right? “I thought we— on the phone, we made a plan?”
Steve breathes a soft laugh. “Yeah, we’ve got plans. But I would’ve come got you instead of making you walk through the rain. C’mon, what kind of boyfriend do you think I am?”
His use of the word boyfriend still makes you glow. You smile, nope, you grin all cheesy — and it doesn’t help at all when Steve’s hands trail down your jacket to hold your own. He wiggles the handles of your bag out from your frozen fingers and drops it behind him gently. His hands dart back to cover yours.
“Dear god, I think you’re about two minutes from losing a finger.” His eyebrows have scrunched together in worry. He brings your hands up to his face, cupped in his own, and blows hot air on them. It tickles but you can’t stop smiling.
He pulls them back, rubbing his thumbs over your icy fingers and peers down at them. Your heart coos at his concern.
“What’s the verdict doctor?” You jest, making your voice all breathy and dramatic. “Am I gonna make it?”
Steve frowns harder at your hands, his face serious when he tilts it back up to face you. “I’m afraid we’re gonna have to amputate.”
You gasp dramatically.
Steve grins. He runs over your hands once more, one of his fingers creeping up your wrist, trying to find a ticklish spot. You squeal a little, trying to pull back but he holds your hands firm in his own. He continues his serious voice.
“Ma’am, I’m sorry but it’s your whole arm. We’re gonna have to chop it right off.”
His fingers are half way up your sleeve, making it bunch up and you’re laughing so much it’s warming you up much faster than him blowing on your hands. You push his hand away playfully and Steve relents, putting his hands up in surrender.
“Okay, okay, you got me.” He grins. “I’m not a real doctor.”
You laugh again, reaching up to tuck back your hair that’s fallen forward in your squirming. “Uh huh, a real doofus is what you are.”
Steve rolls his eyes endearingly, his hands reaching out to snag your waist this time. He tugs you closer. Your feet stumble and when you press against his chest, you’re delighted to find he’s very, very warm. You're definitely soaking his shirt a bit with your coat but if Steve cares, he doesn't say.
“Just realised I didn’t properly say hello,” He murmurs, a little quieter than before.
And when one of his hands moves up and curls beneath your jaw, holding your chin gently, you know what’s coming. If you weren’t already holding your breath in anticipation, he probably would’ve stolen it with his kiss.
His plush lips are soft and with a loving little hum, he kisses you.
All the lights around you look a little dewey and heart-shaped when Steve pulls back — though it may be just your own lovey-dovey eyes. You sigh without meaning to, all honeyed and sweet, and Steve softens immeasurably at the sound.
“Okay,” He shifts his hands back down to your hands, rubbing them lightly. “I’m not kidding, even your lips feel frozen. D’ya wanna take a quick shower just to warm up?”
Something about you flushes at his suggestion— a runaway thought about getting in his shower, it getting steamier and steamier, especially with Steve slipping in to join you halfway. You clear your throat to push away the thought and focus.
Your hair is wetter than you’d expected, sticking to your neck in cold tendrils. A shiver zips down your spine. All your scandalous thoughts aside, it sounds like a pretty good idea.
“Yeah,” you nod gingerly. “Yeah, okay, it wouldn’t mind the warm up.”
Steve steps back, bending down to scoop up your bag deftly. He holds it for you as you unbutton your coat as quick as you can with your frozen fingers, shivering in relief as you shed the drenched layer. Droplets of rain spray in the rustle. Your coat finds a home on a peg beside the door.
It’s comforting how easy it is to follow Steve up the stairs, drinking in his cosy attire from behind— gone are his usual tight fitting jeans. Instead, he’s donned what you guess is his pyjamas; a plain ringer tee and red, plaid, and long flannelette pants. His feet are warmed by fluffy socks that have reindeer prancing about the fabric. A flash of his tan ankle makes you stumble for a moment.
Steve trades your overnight bag, with a smile and a promise to keep it safe, for a pillowy white towel, soft as ever. He leads you into the bathroom off his bedroom, depositing your bag on his bed along the way.
His fingers find the switch for the heated towel rail and while you fold the towel over it neatly, heart humming in content at being taken care of, Steve starts the shower. He sticks one hand in, holding it under the spray and grimacing at the cold— until the chill slips away beneath the steamy hot water.
“Alright,” Steve says, pulling his hand back. He gives it a little shake, droplets splattering on the tiles. “All ready for my best girl.“
He gives a cheesy and charismatic smile as he wipes his hand dry and if you were brave enough, you might give him a little thank you kiss for it. You aren’t just yet — but when he moves to slip by you, you halt him with a soft hand on his torso.
“Thank you.” you say, quieter than you intend. You push on the balls of your feet and plant a quick peck onto his cheek.
Pink blooms beneath where your lips touch. Steve looks like he melts a bit, lashes fluttering as he sucks in a sharp inhale. Turns out neither of you are getting any closer to getting used to the affection. It’s sweet to know it goes both ways.
“I’m gonna—“ Steve breathes, his hand drifting up, his index finger pointed out to the door. “I’ll be nearby if you need anything. Or if you fall. Just like, uh, yell- or scream. Or— you know what, you’ve taken a shower before.”
He stumbles out towards the exit, pulling two awkward thumbs-up over his shoulders. The door swings shut behind him, closing with a quiet click.
Your clothes pool to the ground, a trail leading towards the shower as you move with haste. Though you’re sure the Harrington's won’t notice, you don’t want to waste the hot water.
The heat soothes you— swathes of relief washing down your body, picking up every piece of ice in your skin and sending it swirling down the drain. It doesn’t take too long to get back to warm and toasty.
Still, when your eye catches on it, you can’t resist. Steve has a body wash that smells heavenly. You pick it up, flick back the cap, and take a whiff — just to check it’s the one that’s been infiltrating your very dreams. Steve, even on a daily basis, manages to smell so good it drives you close to delirium.
You’re more than happy to steal it for yourself today. You take another sniff of the bottle in your grasp, just to inhale it with a sigh. The sweater he let you borrow the other week has the exact same smell; a musky perfumed scent, with a hint of bergamot.
You dollop some in your hand and lather it all over. Properly cleansed and throughly warmed up, you let the final suds whirlpool down the drain before shutting the tap off and stepping out. The fluffy porcelain coloured towel is toasty in your hands as you pluck it off the rail. A sigh in appreciation comes out as you dry off, twisting it around yourself.
It’s as you stand there, refreshed and smelling of Steve, in just a towel, do you realise you’ve forgotten to bring in clothes to change into.
On his bed, Steve sits idle — because what else is Steve supposed to do when you’re in his shower? When you’re naked in his shower. Naked in his shower and probably using his soap and lathering it up down your body and on your boobs and— oh my god, soapy boobs and—
Steve’s pulls himself from his thoughts with a rapid shake of his head, just in time for the bathroom door to rattle open and your shining face to peek through.
You look a little flushed, maybe from the heat, or from the lack of clothing. Steve can see your bare shoulder, his eyes tracking a drop as it rolls down your collarbone. None of this helps his runaway thoughts.
He stands up without thought. Then he realises how strange he might look, like a dog standing to attention.
“Feeling boober?” Steve says, like an idiot. Heat floods his face as he realises his flub. “BETTER! Are you feeling better?”
He’s thankful that you at least laugh, a pretty sound that you tuck behind your hand. You have the nerve to wiggle your eyebrows at him, a far cry from the confidence he’s come to expect from you in the past. Steve can’t deny— he adores it.
“What are you thinking about?”
“God,” Steve groans. He shoves his face into his hands and turns around, his back to you. His words are muffled over his shoulder. “Don’t even ask me that right now.”
Another laugh titters out of you. Steve can’t resist peering over his shoulder. The steam curls out through the gap of the door, leaving dew on your skin. You look ethereal, like a dewy angel from a dream.
“Alright,” you relent playfully. You’re fighting a smile and losing, badly. Steve yearns. “Can you please pass me my bag?”
This next time the door opens again and you step out, there’s less tantalising skin to tease Steve and his wandering mind. There’s still a flash of wet skin, the curve between your shoulder and neck. Steve wants to lick it, kiss it, devour it til the skin beneath is riddled with the bruises of a lover.
For a moment, you’re simply admired — Steve’s eyes on you, adoring and soft, as you creep out the bathroom like you don’t want to make too much noise.
You notice in your absence Steve has cajoled a little tray table into his room, tucked up at the foot of his bed. Atop it sits a chunky television, antennae sticking up in perfectly straight lines. The ones at home on yours are slightly warped from all the readjusting.
“Hey,” Steve says. He’s on the bed this time, and while he doesn’t get up this time, he sits up straighter as you emerge from the bathroom. You put your bag down, abandoning it by the door and try to quell your nerves.
Steve, unless he’s somehow obtained x-ray vision and hadn’t told you, can’t see the nice matching set you’ve got beneath your comfy clothes.
He won’t see it— unless this night goes where you think it might, where you hope it might, but even still, the thought manages to make you fluster.
“Hi.” You say back, voice closer to a whisper.
The bed sinks beneath your weight as you climb on to situate yourself beside Steve. He’s all soft corners and crinkled eyes, his arm raised up in an instant for you to tuck yourself under. Even warmer in his arms, your heart delights when he gives you a little squeeze.
“Alright, movie time!” The television at the foot of the bed pulls Steve away from you. He unwinds his arm enough to crawl down the bed. The grey ringer shirt he has one slips forward a bit and at your angle, you can catch more than a sliver of his tan tummy.
Without thinking, your thighs press together tightly as heat flares between them. You can trace the alluring wiry trail of hair with your eyes until it disappears into his pyjama pants, continuing out of sight. A part of your wants.
You want to see where it goes, want to curl your fingers into his waistband and work it downwards, you want find out if the moles go all the way down his thighs like you hope they do.
Hunger sinks its teeth into your skin; a hunger you’ve been getting more and more familiar with.
“Okay, pervert,” Steve’s cheeky remark shakes you from your thoughts and you start to stammer. He’s clearly caught you staring. “Can’t say I blame you for ogling—“
“I was not—“
“— because I have been told before that I have a very distracting and attractive behind.”
You sputter and despite your best efforts, a little laugh splutters through as well because well, yeah, he’s not wrong — but your brain is stuck on repeat with something else entirely.
Tummy, tummy, tummy, the hair on his tummy, the hair leading down into his pants.
“Yeah, uh huh, okay, Harrington,” You slump back against the pillows with a dramatic sigh, clearly teasing. “If you say so.”
The television flickers to life right as Steve lunges back towards you with all the energy of a labrador puppy. He squishes down onto you so quickly that you actually squeal in surprise.
“Oh, I’m back to just Harrington now?” He pouts, squeezing even closer to you. You’re laughing, flattened beneath him in a way that you can’t even wiggle your arms out. He’s draped across you dramatically. You trust him completely.
“It’s your name, isn’t it?”
“I thought my name was,” He leans closer and kisses your neck. “Boyfriend. Or baby. Orrrrrr,”
He kisses up your neck and onto your cheek. His hazel eyes are bright, crinkled in his grin so much that his lashes kiss in the corner. He kisses your nose. “Handsome.”
“Mmmhm,” you revel in the never-ending affection, glowing from the inside with happiness. You wiggle your arms to make Steve push himself up, just enough to free them from being smothered against your chest. Free to roam, your hands find the sides of his face.
“What about…” You begin. Steve watches you closely, evidently gleeful from the touchiness of your hands. He pushes into your palm, turning to kiss it fast. “My snookums.”
You exaggerate the word, your voice going all sugary to butter it up. You watch as emotions ripple across Steve’s face— the twitch in his nose as he tries not to outright frown at you. How polite he is.
It’s only as he catches the grin spreading across your face, wicked and just loving watching him squirm at the terrible pet-name, does he catch on to your jest. A sigh of relief and a chuckle whooshes out of him at once.
“Oh, thank God you’re joking.” He drops all his weight into your waiting hands, grinning when you let his face flops forward into your chest. His words are completely muffled as he speaks into your chest. “That could’ve been serious grounds for a breakup.”
You huff a laugh and nudge him up best you can. “Yeah, alright, drama queen. Your movie is starting.”
Steve’s head pops up, his head twisting back towards the television like he had forgotten about its existence until you had mentioned it.
“Oh true,” He says. He pushes up off you to sit himself up, shuffling back so instead you can lean on him. Re-situating his arms around you, Steve hums absentmindedly as he throws a leg over you, tangling it with yours. Thoroughly intertwined, you both sink back into the pillows.
The credits roll up and off the screen, the first five minutes of the film whisked away while you and Steve were settling down. Now, the opening scene begins, the grainy picture on the screen buzzing as it plays the VHS.
You get approximately two minutes of silence, your and Steve’s heads turned towards the television, until distraction kicks in.
You do your best to ignore it as his head turns towards you, your eyes still focused on the screen, but all your attention runs to Steve. He nudges a little closer to you, his nose pressing into your temple and right as you realise he’s smelling you, he says—
“Did you use my body wash?”
You freeze.
“I— was I not supposed to?” Your voice comes out a bit weaker than intended.
Steve lets out a soft noise, somewhere between a sigh and a groan, only worrying you further. He starts to shift around a bit, retracting his leg back an inch, his nose no longer nudging close along your temple; all actions that contrast his assuring words.
“No, no, no, it’s fine, you’re fine—“ Despite his words, he shifts again. His hips shuffle backward, one of his hands moving down subtlety as he can to fuss with his pyjama pants.
It takes about two more seconds for you to get it — clued in by Steve’s suddenly scarlet cheeks and his embarrassed expression.
Your mouth drops open a bit unwittingly.
“Are you—“
“Yes.” Steve grates out. He abandons fixing the growing tent in his pants to cover his face with his hands, rolling slightly away from you. You can feel the heat of his embarrassment radiating off him. His words are slightly muffled from behind his palms.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean— I didn’t even realise that was something that got me going until, like, right this second.”
It’s adorable that he’s so flustered and that he’s apologising. You’ve never had that happen before. You’ve never had someone so conscious of how it might seem— never someone like Steve who doesn’t seem to come with any expectations.
A thread of relief jolts through you. It reaffirms what you already know; anything you want to do will be done on your terms.
And with his eyes covered up, if you glance down at his pants for good hard look…. well, that’s between you and the universe.
“Steve,” your fingers curl around one of his wrists, tugging it gently. You try to coax his face out of hiding, your smile somewhere between giggly and endeared. “It’s— it’s okay, really, you don’t have to apologise. I— I mean, I’m honestly flattered.”
Steve deflates a bit, torn between relief and his still persistent concern. He had made a committed plan that he wouldn’t make any moves until you initiated it first and yet, here he was, like every other male in Hawkins. Popping a boner the moment you settle down to innocently cuddle. God, he’s the worst!
A pout forms on his lips. He wishes he could rewind the last 2 minutes and spend the whole movie holding his breath.
“What is it about the body wash?”
Your question takes him by surprise, given the way his other hand drops off from covering his face. He blinks up at you, cheeks still with a hint of cherry red.
“I- I dunno.” He admits. “Like I said I didn’t even realise that…”
Steve’s cheeks flush with colour again. He clears his throat. “That would have that effect on me.”
Something within you preens, a fire stoked by his honest admission; a zing shooting down your spine because you don’t think you will ever get used to hearing how Steve wants you.
“Well,” you begin, the word more timid than you hoped it would be. You clear your throat and cast a glance at the television, feigning casualness. “If I was the cause…”
You let your hand come up, brushing across his warm tummy. Look up at him through your lashes, hoping, praying it looks sexier than you’re feeling— which is somewhere between flustered and foolish.
Still, Steve’s throat bobs. You watch his eyes dart down to your lingering hand, an inch or so above his waistband.
“Maybe, I can be the remedy.”
A tiny groan scrapes out of Steve’s throat, like he would love nothing more. Even so, he pins you with a sincere look, hazel eyes burning into yours.
“You don’t have to do that.” He assures you. “I mean—“ He coughs awkwardly. “It will go away, uh, in time.”
“I’m aware how it works, Steve.”
“Oh, are you?” Steve jokes— laughing when you wallop him in the chest. He grabs your hand, stopping your assault mid-motion with a cheeky smile. “Okay! Okay, I deserved that.”
He releases your hand and you let it fall onto his chest. Nerves prickle beneath your skin but with them is something new, something you’ve only gained since your time with Steve; anticipation.
Steeling your anxiety, you let your hand trail down his chest slowly— enough time that he could halt you before you embarrassed yourself. But he doesn’t. Steve watches you closely, his chest rising and falling a bit harder as your hand nears his waistband.
This time, you don’t stop. You let your fingers brush over the tented fabric hesitantly, torn between wanting to watch your hand or to see his face. As confidently as you can, you palm across his bulge— feeling the heat of his hard length thickening up under your hand.
Steve groans lowly.
You look up at him as you rub him softly, taking in his large pupils and pink lips. He’s watching you too, his eyes darting between your face and the hand on his cock.
“Is this okay?” You check. The movie crackles on in the background, idle noise. Steve nods quickly, a curl of his hair falling down onto his forehead.
“Yeah,” He says, voice breathier than it was a minute ago. You try out a harder rub, beginning to feel out the shape of his cock, and you curl your fingers around it. Steve groans again, a little bit louder, his eyelashes fluttering.
Still, he composes himself enough to ask, “Is this okay for you?”
“Hmmm,” you draw out the noise, the smile on your face giving away your faux-thinking. You squeeze him again, right as you murmur, “Maybe make that noise again and I’ll see.”
But any noise he makes is captured in your mouth as he surges forward, one of his hands curling up under your jaw. His fingers slide into your hair and his lips are sweet and soft, hungry for more against your own.
You can’t help but melt under his kisses, body relaxing into the sheets as you let yourself be kissed breathlessly. A warmth pools deep within your chest, drooling down into your stomach. Anticipations sinks in. Your thighs rub together.
Losing the nerve and the focus, your hand slips up to cup at Steve’s hip— but if he cares, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he takes it as a cue to press forward, leaning his weight onto on his elbows to hold his weight as he shifts up, his lips never leaving yours.
It’s one smooth motion, the way he slips a leg between your own, his body held up and hovering above yours. He kisses, slow and languid. You ache. Your lips haven’t ever been so kissed before.
It isn’t until his thigh shifts up and presses just right do you notice it properly — unable to swallow your shallow gasp, lips halting against Steve’s as a bolt of pleasure blooms deep in your gut. Your eyelashes flutter, a shadow of embarrassment threatening your cheeks.
“S’okay?” Steve whispers, not relenting any of his closeness. His lips brush yours.
You nod gently, a quiet hum sounding in your throat. You’re not entirely sure you can form words right now. Not when it feels like your heartbeat is everywhere — when you can feel the heat between your legs, the tightness of your nipples as they peak, the undeniable thrum of lust building within you.
And certainly not when you can feel Steve, his hardness pressed up against your thigh, his pupils bigger than usual. They’re ringed in that hazel you love— a colour that might be your new favourite ever.
Fuck, you’re in deep. What an incredibly sappy thought to have while you’re getting hot and bothered. Did Steve think that way about you too? Think about the colour of your eyes while he kissed your mouth?
“I…” You finally find your voice and Steve pulls back a couple inches so he can see you properly. His eyes dart over your face adoringly, his lips rosy red from all the kisses and quirked into a smile. He looks at you as if you’re everything.
“I want to…” You say, unable to find the words to finish your sentence. Embarrassment winds up inside you, ready to spring free but Steve seems uncaring at your hesitance.
“You wanna what?”
He kisses the corner of your mouth with a hum. Endlessly patient. Somehow your stomach churns a little faster at that. Nerves stand up on their end, a thousand uneasy prickles over your body.
“I want to.” You say this time, firmer. “Do more.”
It still sounds too mousy coming out and you see a flicker of something on Steve’s face.
“If you do, I mean.” You add on quickly. “I want to if you do.”
Steve huffs a quiet laugh, like the idea of checking in with him was a bit absurd. His gaze roams over your face slowly, taking his fine time just looking at you. He looks as though he doesn’t quite know what to say.
He lands on, “You don’t seem sure.”
Your heart flip-flops at the wrinkle between his eyebrows, his concern evident. He fixes you with a serious, sincere look.
You nod, your hair scrunching up against the pillow as you do. “I am. I just…”
You sink your teeth into your bottom lip and worry it, thinking of how to put this. You’ve said it before, you’ve told him how it was in the past, how you hadn’t enjoyed it and yet…
Feeling too squirmish under Steve’s intense stare, you avert your eyes to look at the ceiling and swallow the knot in your throat.
Your voice comes out a whisper. “I want to try but I’m not sure— I just I can’t promise that I’ll- that y’know, I—”
Eyes crushing closed, you try to seize your bubbling anxiety before it seizes you. This is Steve. You trust him wholly. Just a moment ago you were thinking about how much you like him and—
“Hey,” Steve murmurs lowly, nudging his nose into yours. Your eyes open. He smiles softly when he says, “I have no interest in doing something you don’t enjoy.”
The protest flounders up inside you before you can stop it. “But—“
“So,” He cuts you off pointedly. “If we give it a go and you don’t like it, that’s okay. We can just figure out what you do enjoy, okay?“
For a long moment, you just stare up at him.
“Yeah? So we can just try and if it… If I…” You flounder for words, sounding like you think it must be too good to be true. You stare up at the ceiling as you try to verbalise the biggest hurdle, the final niggling worry.
You peer back up at Steve’s face. “You… you wouldn’t be disappointed if we started but then I wanted to stop?”
Some emotion shutters across Steve’s face, a flash of devastation. You mistake it for annoyance.
An unwelcome hitch suddenly twists in your stomach. “I'm sorry, I know that you— we already- last time, we talked about this and I should know—“
“Stop it,” Steve interrupts with a soft shake of his head. “Stop doing that, it’s fine to feel unsure or- or to not know what you like. It takes time and experience to figure what you do like.”
His hand shifts up, brushing the hair back from your forehead. He leaves it there, the warmth of his hand a comfort. His fingers curl lightly into your hair.
“That’s all I wanna do,” He breathes softly, his lips tugging up at the corners. He looks unbearably earnest, his brown eyes shining. “Just wanna do what you like. Wanna figure out what you like.”
He leans down and kisses your cheek. Then your jaw. Then that soft sensitive spot under your ear. You squirm but this time for all the right reasons.
“Y’want me to do that?” He murmurs.
You’re breathing a little heavier and when Steve nips at your earlobe sparingly, just a love bite and a flash of teeth, your breath catches loudly. Desire surges through you, hot and straight between your legs.
It takes another moment to remember he’s asked you a question.
“Yeah…” you breathe. You wanna nod but you don’t want him to stop what he’s doing. Your throat bobs as you swallow. “I wanna do that. Wanna— wanna learn what you like too.”
Steve hums, a pleased sound, and he kisses languidly at your neck. His lips, soft and plush, scrape against your skin in a way that gathers heat low in your gut. Your hips tilt forward an inch, moving against his thigh almost imperceptibly.
“Yeah?”
The way he says it, the way the word rolls out of his mouth, all husky and low, makes your nipples peak.
“We get to learn together, hm?” He kisses your neck again. The soft press of his tongue and the gentle scrape of his teeth have you gripping the sheets, almost white knuckled.
Suddenly, you can’t stand to not be touching him. Your hands fly from the sheets, fingers curling around his midriff, feeling at the warm skin. His t-shirt is warmed by him. You slip your hands beneath it as he bites where your shoulder meets your neck, soft enough to make you sigh.
Your hand finds skin. Finally, finally, you get your hands on that damned happy trail that’s been all but haunting your daydreams for the past months.
As Steve kisses down your neck, you trace the line of hair with your finger slowly. Your thumb strokes the coarse hair all the way down to his waistband, gentle and hungry all at once— trying to commit it all to memory. Unwittingly, Steve shivers at the motion.
“Fuck,” his breath shudders against your neck. He tucks his face in closer, fighting the urge to press his body up against yours and grind. You feel the twitch in his hips anyway. “You drive me crazy.”
“Me too,” you gasp when he pulls off your neck, blowing cool air across the heated skin he’s been dedicating himself to. You wonder if a bruise will come up, beautiful and kiss-bitten. You clench a little at the thought, the heat between your thighs only increasing.
A mark from him— a mark of a lover.
You want to give one to him too. Managing to remember you can do things with your hands, other than just pawing at his back, you shift them up to curl into his hair. Tugging gently, you coax his face up enough so you can nose alone the length of his neck.
Steve’s panting and you can hear his breath catch when you start planting kiss after kiss on his skin— dragging your bottom lip across those glorious moles you adore so much.
Without meaning to, you press him back and Steve lets himself roll back onto the mattress, his hands tugging you closer. You take the invitation and struggle for a moment to get up over his hips, one leg too tangled in the blanket on the bed.
“My leg,” you laugh weakly, having to retract a hand from his hair to free it. When you do, you settle down, straddling his hips, and try not to lose your confidence. Still, you can’t help apologising. “Sorry.”
Steve peers up at you lovingly, frowning a little when you apologise. “What? No, it’s fine.”
He shifts one hand and grabs the loose blanket beside you and then hefts it up, throwing it as far as he can off the bed with a grunt. It lands somewhere behind you with a soft noise.
“Blanket’s fault.” He says, brown eyes back on you. “Freaking cockblock. I got rid of him, babe, don’t worry.”
You snort a little, leaning down to kiss his perfect lips.
“My hero.” You murmur sarcastically against them.
“Ooh, say that again, baby,” Steve moans exaggeratedly, throwing his head back onto the pillow dramatic, his eyes screwed shit.
You laugh, unknowingly relaxing a little further into him. You swat at his chest.
“Steve.”
“Oh!” He moans again, all girlish and fake, and twists his head in the other direction. “I love it when you say my name like I’m an idiot!”
You gasp, but it’s still hidden in your laughter as you hit his chest again, for a different reason this time.
“Don’t say that!” You say genuinely. “I don’t think you’re an idiot.”
Steve drops the act, his eyes creasing open to shine up at you. He’s glowing beneath you, cheeks a bit flushed and grinning like he’s a little bit in love with you. You think he might be.
“No, you don’t.” He agrees. He soothes his hands up and down your sides. “Only idiot is that idiot who let you think there was anything wrong with you.”
“Ugh,” you scoff. “Please don’t bring him up ever again— least of all when we’re in bed.”
Steve squeezes your sides gently and smiles up at you like he hasn’t heard a word you’ve said. “Noted.”
And then you kiss him.
For a couple of minutes it’s this easy, lazy making out that you love. Though, it’s like there’s a furnace turning up beneath you both, the intensity getting more feverish with every kiss. When Steve finally pulls back from you, panting, he looks as flustered as you feel.
“Can I take these off?”
His fingers are curled into the waistband of your pyjama pants. You nod before you can overthink it, letting him shimmy them down your thighs and settling yourself down on the comforter. Steve sits up a bit beside you, to tug them down your legs and off your ankles.
Steve’s focus is on his hands but your gaze is stuck on his face— and you watch as he tosses your pants behind him carelessly. His eyes fix on your cunt, hidden away behind your lacy panties.
“Woah,” he murmurs softly, eyes flicking up to meet yours. He leans down on his elbows, one arm on either side of your hips and pings the elastic on the cutest lingerie you own. “These are very pretty.”
He sounds like he means it, his voice tinged with lust. It gives you a moment of confidence.
“Yeah?” You ask. You slide your hands up, pushing your shirt up gingerly as you to reveal the matching bra to him.
Even from your distance, you can see how Steve’s pupils dilate, blowing way out. “You like them?”
Steve let’s out a pained noise as his head flops over, his nose pressed into your hipbone. One of his hands reaches down between his legs, adjusting himself in his pants.
He looks back up at you, hair a bit mussed, and pouts.
“That’s not fair! That’s so not fair. Did you plan this? Blindside me by wearing my body wash and then surprise me with matching lingerie?”
The way he says it, all faux accusatory, makes you grin. He sits up long enough to tug his own shirt off, discarding it behind him, and crawls up the bed to kiss you. You catch a glint of the single chain he wears around his neck before he's kissing you.
“You—” Kiss. “look—” Kiss. “so—” Kiss. “fuckin’—” Kiss. “hot.”
He pulls back, taking a moment to just gaze at you before he leans back further, scuttling down the sheets til he’s paused between above your legs.
Something within you flares hotly at the memory of the last time he was in the position. You feel a warm pulse in your cunt, a trickle of slick coating your panties. Your hips shift an inch— half nerves, half anticipation.
Steve kisses you over your panties, like last time, the first chaste and on your clit. The next is a little lower, a little slower, his lips parting further and his tongue pressing languidly against your core. You squirm, breathing a little heavier.
His hands grips gently at your hips, moving up to smooth over your thighs. He lets his fingers slip forward, the tips of them pressing lightly into your inner thighs. He pulls them further apart and ruins you a bit when he kisses sweet along the skin of your thigh.
“I’m pretty sure we could just do this every time and I’d be happy,” Steve says, but it’s paired a chuckle fringed with nerves.
He looks up at you and you realise it is a bit of nervousness— like he’s worried you might find it embarrassing just how much he likes it.
Your blood hums in response, warmer, all of it rushing down your body. You don’t know quite what to say to that, so you say, “Yeah?”
Steve smiles, that flash of nervousness already gone or cleverly hidden. He gives your thighs a gentle squeeze with his large hands and rubs his cheek up against one of them.
“Are you kidding me? I think I’d do anything you wanted just to hear those noises you made again.”
Your lips part slightly in surprise. He’s always so startlingly honest and forward with his feelings but, somehow, it still manages takes you by surprise— that he’s not at all shy about how much he likes you.
Scrambling for an appropriately sexy response, you come up blank and instead decide to press your thighs together. Between them, Steve’s cheeks squish forward, his lips forming an absurdly funny pout.
“Hey!” He exclaims.
It comes out a little muffled with his face squidged up and the mixture of both his face and voice makes you laugh. You release him, legs falling apart, feeling the breath of his laugh again your skin.
“Kidding, you can warm my ears anytime you want, honey,” He’s still grinning up at you when he says it. Part of you know he’s being completely serious.
Your gut burns low. You resist the urge to squirm, feeling the heat chase down to your cunt. It’s hard to relax when he manages to make you feel so keyed up.
“Stop getting distracted.” You jest.
“You stop getting distracted,” He jibes back, but his focus drifts back down, his eyes darkening with a fiery lust.
He rubs the skin of your thighs again, soothingly, and lets one hand creep forward til his knuckles are brushing up against the edge of your panties. His thumb presses forward, into the wet spot you’ve soaked through.
Even so, he still asks, “How we doin’? Still feeling good?”
You nod quickly, then think verbal confirmation is probably far better. “Yeah, still good.”
Realising you’re staring up at the ceiling, hard, you flick your eyes down between your legs. Even if it doesn’t feel particularly sexy, you still have to say it. “Thank you for checking.”
“Of course,” Steve says. He pinches the elastic of your panties lightly, his eyebrows raising in question. “Gonna take these off, yeah? Then you let me know if you don’t like anything I’m doing.”
Despite your history, a huge part of you wants to say yeah, fat chance of that because yeah, you’re beginning to wonder if your boyfriend has some genuinely magical fingers. And a magical mouth. And wait, does that mean his co—
The thought gets ripped away as you feel your panties get tugged downwards and you quickly lift your hips to help. Though he’s seen you bare before, it’s impossible to stop the flush that rolls through your body, hot and tinged with embarrassment. You want to close your legs but Steve between them prevents that from happening.
“Here,” Steve hums, reaching a hand up to scoop up your own from the bedsheets.
He gives it a quick kiss on the palm and then moves it up to land in his hair. “You let me know how m’doing, okay?”
Your fingers curl into his brunette locks automatically and grip tightly when he leans in, his hot tongue dipping between your folds. Pleasure drips into your body as he begins to lick softly, his skilled tongue finding your bundle of nerves quickly and twisting around it.
Heat builds. You close your eyes and let yourself enjoy it, soft pants escaping your lips as Steve kisses and suckles where you’re most sensitive, til there’s a moan lacing every breath.
Fuck, he’s so good at this. How is he so good at this?
One of his hands on your thighs starts to knead gently as the other one slides forward, til his thumb is rested at your slicked entrance. He hasn’t stopped sucking on your clit but your sudden sharp inhale catches his attention.
“Sorry,” you say instinctively.
“It’s fine,” Steve soothes, his thumb circling around your soaked hole, which clenches in response.
He kisses your thigh. Desire burns you up from within, your fingers twisting a little tighter in his hair, giving away your nerves.
“We’re just figuring out what you like, yeah?” He muses, his words half comfort, half lust.
You nod but don’t speak, trying to trust him enough to let his words calm you. Steve gives you a moment to breathe before he resumes the work with his mouth, his hot mouth suckling at your clit once again.
He waits until you’re back to those quiet, shy lusty little noises before he tries again, prodding softly at your entrance in warning before he gently sinks his finger in. You gasp again, hands tightening in his hair — as something molten hot shoots right up your spine.
“Steve,” you cry out his name. It feels... good, which feels like a fucking miracle in itself. He begins to fuck the finger in and out slowly, still lapping at your clit. A heat that you’ve only felt once before starts to nip at your skin, bleeding into each nerve.
Your panting grows heavier and without meaning to, you clench down around him, desperate for a little more.
“See, you like that one, huh?” Steve mumbles against you, his dark eyes flashing up to take in your face contorted in pleasure. His cock thickens unbearably in his pants, too confined. You nod, hair scrunching up against the pillow.
“Yea—yes,” You say, feeling your hips rock down an inch. You want more of that.
Steve obliges, more than willingly, adding another finger. It slides in with little resistance. It’s hotter than anything else to get to see you like this, pliant and horny, rocking your hips against his mouth.
To get to make you like this— sucking on your cute little clit and fucking his fingers in, hearing the adorable squelch of your wetness. You’re so turned on it makes his brain melt a bit, the way you’re leaking all over his fingers. Steve’s cock throbs desperately— but he wants to make sure you’re stretched out enough to take him. If you want that, that is.
He eases one more finger in, keeping a careful watch on your face to see how you take it. You keen beautifully, back arching slightly as he curls his fingers and begins to stretch you out.
You pant deliriously, these tiny whimpers beginning to slip out your throat. Steve wishes he could see your face, the cute scrunch of your brows as you moan— but happily settles for latching his lips back onto your cunt.
Three fingers feel even better than two, you find, as you grip the sheets tightly— you’re throbbing but in this torturous way, balancing on the edge of too much and not enough. There’s a hint of pain lingering at the back, but not enough to distract you from the pleasure.
It takes you by surprise then, when the pleasure suddenly tapers off, your eyes creasing up open and head popping up. You realise Steve is slowly stopping, his slick fingers slipping out of you as he sits back up a bit.
“Why’d you stop?” You say without thinking.
Flushing, you quickly follow it up. “Every— everything okay?”
God, you sound wiped. Your chest is still heaving and your clit twitches, missing the stimulation of your boyfriend’s mouth. The air smells honeyed and perfumed with sex.
“You tell me,” Steve murmurs sweetly, his lips grazing the inside of your knee in an almost kiss. “You said you wanted to do more. Is this enough more?”
Your heart nearly bursts in the pure consideration. God, he’s so fucking nice to you. So unbothered to take things your pace, so attuned to making you feel good. You know that you could happily do this more for the rest of the night.
But it’s not what you had in mind — and the longer you wait, the more you’re beginning to crave getting Steve to a similar state you’re in. Moaning, flushed in the face, his hands buried in your hair.
“We can do more,” You say, your voice dropping back into that shy whisper.
Steve watches you closely, his hand still absentmindedly rubbing at your thigh dotingly.
You clear your throat and speak a little louder. “I wanna do more.”
“Yeah?” Steve says, his grin growing. He huffs and shakes his head a little, dropping your gaze.
“I mean, believe me, even if we just—“ He gestures vaguely between your thighs. “— did this all night? Night well spent.”
You know he means it, especially with his hungry gaze that dips back down, his tongue slipping out to lick his bottom lip briefly.
You press up onto one elbow and reach out one hand, hooking your finger over the one single chain he wears. There’s a ring looped on it, the one you gave him as a promise, and just the sight of it makes you glow inside.
You tug the chain forward lightly and him with it, Steve shifting up the bed til you’re nearly face to face, his frame hovering above you. The beds dips beneath his hands as they crawl up to either side of your waist, his intense eyes locking onto your face. He might be holding his breath.
Swallowing, you move up and press your lips to his in a slow, soft kiss. It turns deeper, hotter, heavier. You swipe your tongue into his mouth and Steve lets out a pitiful noise in response, pressing his mouth against yours desperately.
Drawing back with a little gasp, you open your eyes and repeat your earlier sentiment, “I want to do more.”
Steve watches you, his exhale shaking slightly. You dot a kiss on his cheek quick, pulling back to meet his eyes.
“I want to do more with you.”
A kiss on his other cheek, just as fast. Pink blooms beneath where your lips touch.
“I want to do more, right now.”
Steve smiles splits into a grin, his eyes shining as he chuckles, the sound doused in fondness. “Okay, okay, I got the message,” He murmurs.
Pushing back to sit on his heels, he turns and rummages around in his bedside table for a moment. You lay back on the pillows and try catch your breath, knowing it’s only a matter of time before it’s stolen once more.
When Steve pulls back, there’s a row of condoms in one hand and a bottle of lube in the other. He tears off one of the condoms and throws the rest of them behind him without thought.
You can’t help but tilt your head up, neck straining a bit, not wanting to look away for a moment as Steve raises onto his knees and pushes his boxers down. His cock kicks up, released from its confines with a soft slap against his happy trail.
Unwittingly, your mouth waters a bit.
And look, you’ve seen a dick before, okay? It’s pretty hard to sleep with someone and not see one, unless you have your eyes closed the entire time.
But Steve’s cock is… pretty.
Pink and aching, the head of it slick with a bit of pre-cum— that you realise he’s gotten from being worked up whilst eating you out. You gush a little at the dizzying thought.
You want to touch it — or put it in your mouth so you can drool over it, can suck on it, can feel the heady weight of it on your tongue. Or, as you realise what the ache of your cunt means, you really, really want him to fuck you with it.
Instinct drives your thighs apart, beckoning him between them. Steve’s eyes darken as he notes the motion, moving a bit more hastily to tear the condom packet open. He rolls it down his length, quick and precise.
“Okay,” Steve breathes, reaching out for the lube and drizzling a generous amount into his palm. He keeps the bottle within reach as he slicks it over his heavy cock, a beautiful groan pushing out his throat as he does.
“Okay,” He says again, a little breathier than before. Shuffling forward, Steve lines himself up with your core gently before halting. His eyes dart up to your face.
“You let me know if there’s anything you don’t like or you wanna stop.”
You nod, his ardent care only serving to fuel your lust. You’ll coo over it in the afterglow— right now you want to be around him, want to feel him pulsing inside you, want to feel full where you’re suddenly feeling so, so empty.
Steve shifts forward, beginning to sink into you with a low groan of pleasure.
The first few seconds are bliss — Steve’s done his job well at warming you up and something hungry awakens with a burst of pleasure as you take the first few inches.
Then, something a little more uncomfortable joins the mix.
You try not to squirm, disappointment inflating as your pleasure is robbed by the twinges of pain. It’s not unbearable but you’re enjoying yourself less. Steve moves in another inch and then discomfort abruptly becomes pain.
You inhale sharply, teeth gritted together, and Steve stops moving in an instant.
“Woah, y’okay?”
You nod, even as your eyes slip shut. Half of this is a mental game, you know that—you’ll never loosen up if you don’t try to relax.
“Yeah,” you say quietly, voice a bit tight. “Just— just gimme a minute.”
Steve murmurs a quiet sure but after a moment he says, “Wait, lemme—“ and moves forward so he’s hovering above you instead of sitting back, your faces much closer now. The jostling doesn’t help but having Steve closer does.
He keeps his hips as still as he can and kisses your cheek. You don’t open your eyes just yet, willing yourself desperately to relax, to enjoy it. You take a deep breath.
“We can stop,” Steve whispers.
You shake your head. Creasing your eyes open, you move your hands up so you can twine them around Steve’s neck in almost a hug. Steve leans down and kisses your cheek again, then steals a kiss from your lips.
“I wanna—“ You gasp, frustration mounting at how the pain doesn’t seem to be subsiding. You sound miserable as you cling to him closer. “I want this to work.”
“It’s okay if it doesn’t,” Steve responds, his arm shifting up so he can trace his thumb over your cheekbone.
The movement moves his hips forward another inch, pain spiking so severely that you wince aloud, your face pinched in discomfort. That’s all it takes for Steve to shift back, easing out of you gently. You’re devastated at the relief that follows.
“Okay, I’m not doing that if it hurts you—“
“It wasn’t,” You lie fruitlessly. You know Steve heard your wince—but maybe if you lie, you can trick your body.
Hands coming up to cover your face, you scrunch your eyes up, annoyed at how they sting with tears so quickly. Your voice is all wobbly when you say, “I’m sorry. I'm sorry, I really want this to work, Steve.”
Steve aches at your words, moving in to tug at your hands. His voice is soft, sweet.
“Hey, hey, I know that, sweetheart.”
You don’t let him in, hands still shielding your face. He kisses your knuckles instead, his thumbs swiping up and down your wrists comfortingly.
He waits a moment before he continues, voice buttery soft, “I know you want this. It’s not your fault if your body only likes it some ways and not others. You can’t control that and I know that.”
You take one deep breath and it shudders as you inhale, sounding far too teary for Steve’s liking. He tugs at your wrists again, relieved when you let him pull them away tentatively. You aren’t crying but you look damn near close.
“What’s got you so upset, huh?” Steve coos, nuzzling in close, his nose brushing against yours.
He releases your wrists to cup your face, tender and soft, his brows knit together in his concern. “You know I don’t mind- I told you that I don’t care what we do, just that you’re enjoying it.”
You take another shaky inhale, a little more stable than the last. Steve can feel how you move to press back against him, nuzzling him back. You take another moment before you reply.
“I just-“ You start, voice still tight. “It’s so stupid. I wanted it— I wanted to enjoy it. And that doesn’t even seem to matter to my body. It doesn’t even change how it feels and that sucks. Like I can’t control this part of me.”
Steve listens dutifully, waiting til you finish and your eyes find him.
“Well,” He starts, averting his eyes somewhat sheepishly. “Take everything I say with a grain of salt, okay? But… your body doesn’t hurt just to mess with you, right?”
He waits a moment for your tentative nod. “Right. So, it’s not for nothing. It’s trying to tell you something and- and ignoring that isn’t having control. You have to listen and work with your body — it’s your partner in all this.”
“I thought you were my partner,” you whisper, the small smile on your lips giving away your joke. Steve faux rolls his eyes and kisses the tip of your nose.
“I’m your other partner.” He smiles. Then sighs, casting his gaze above your head for a moment before meeting your eyes again. “Am I making any sense?”
Wiggling one hand up, you place it on his cheek tenderly and begin to whisper. “You’re making a lot of sense actually.”
Steve sighs, leaning his face into the palm of your hand with a huff. “Well, that’s a relief.”
For a minute, there’s only quiet. Your emotions come down from their swell and you take the time to admire the beautiful boy above you, who seems to be doing just the same to you.
After a moment of time, you clear your throat and say, “Can we try again?”
Steve seems to think on it for a moment before he nods, turning to kiss your palm.
“This is gonna make me sound like a total guy,” He says, words muffled against your hand. His brown eyes flash up to yours, darting between them. “But maybe we should try from the back. Like, different angle and all.”
You snort, unable to hold it in because it does sound like such a guy thing to say. Even so, you give a little nod, eager to try something else. You don’t even want to acknowledge the mounting dread around disappointing Steve — even with all his assurances, you can’t help but feel as though this has been one gigantic let down.
As Steve shifts back, you become suddenly aware of the lubed up slick spot on your thigh where Steve's cock was resting and scrunch your nose with a laugh. Peering down, you drag a finger through the wetness left on it.
“Ew,” you laugh.
“Ew?” Steve echoes incredulously. “Alright, that’s it.” His sits up and back, his hands darting down lightning fast, manoeuvring you all of sudden. He hooks his hands under your hips and lifts, twisting so you’re suddenly splayed on your front.
You’re giggling all the while, drunk on the feeling of your boyfriend’s hands as they trail up your sides. The hair of his tanned scrapes against your back as he leans in, mouthing along your shoulder towards your neck.
You find your knees and prop yourself up on them, lifting your hips off the sheets of Steve’s bed. At the angle he’s draped himself over you, it’s a perfect line up of his cock with your cunt, the head of it teasing your entrance when you push back.
You're relieved that your emotional moment hadn't killed the mood altogether. That same hot, pulsating want from before tears through you and Steve takes a stuttering breath, the slightest moan in his throat. You feel his forehead press against your shoulder blade, as though he’s trying to compose himself.
“You-“ He says, the word catching in his throat. As if unable to help himself, his hips grind forward, pushing his aching cock between your slick folds. You make pitiful, keening noises in response, a thread of pleasure run through the two of you.
“You ready?” Steve asks shakily. He relents some of his closeness to grab the lube, giving another generous drizzle into his palm to slather over himself.
“Please,” you whisper, pushing yourself back an inch.
This time when Steve pushes himself in, the bliss stretches out, lasting more than just the first couple seconds. You make a high, breathy sigh of a noise and your head drops forward.
Steve pauses, his breathing on the ragged side, and checks in. “Still feeling okay?”
You nod feverishly, a whine building up in your throat that threatens to escape if Steve doesn’t move. Or maybe if he does move. You can’t tell — can’t tell anything other than how good it feels to have him inside you, hot and throbbing.
“Yes,” you manage to gasp out. “Yeah, keeping going, please,”
Steve grunts, complying in an instant, sinking his cock further in. Something inside you tightens up again— but it’s not nearly as noticeable as last time. Still, Steve recognises it and he slows for a moment.
“I’m okay,” you assure breathily, face nearly pressed into the bed. You need him to keep moving.
And he does; his cock sinks in another inch right as his hand creeps around your hip, searching for something blindly. You barely get one moment of confusion before his calloused fingers drag through the slick on your cunt and move up, pushing against your clit purposefully.
You moan, loud and high. The friction of your clit is enough to make your thighs spread a little wider and your hips move back before you even realise what you’re doing, almost the rest of Steve’s cock sinking inside you. It feels good but something else pinches up inside you.
Steve moans, muffling the sound into your skin as he hides his face in your neck.
You pant, suddenly dreading how you can feel the prick of pain on the fringes of your pleasure if Steve stretches you too far. "Don't- n-not too much," You warn gently, the words all breathy, still swathed in your pleasure. "I—uh— fuck, I don't think I can take it all."
You feel Steve's nod against the back of your neck, accompanied by a low hum in his throat.
“Y-yeah, okay,” He stammers. His hips roll forward and he follows your word, not quite pushing all the way in. "F-Fuck."
His breath is hot on your neck and the sudden urge for his kiss is nearly overwhelming. Even not facing him, the way Steve drapes himself around you, gentle even with how he grinds his hips into yours, feels intimate. Your cunt gives a soft squelch.
“Oh fuck,” Steve gasps, stilling completely — the feeling of you wrapped around him is enough to nearly push him to the edge. He screws his eyes closed and whimpers, trying to keep himself together.
“Y’okay?” You whisper breathily after a couple of moments, forehead pressed into the sheets. Your hips move just a little bit, shifting in a little circle so his cock slides out an inch, his fingertips grazing across your clit again.
“I—ngh-“ Another whine slips out from his throat at your movement and Steve’s hand slips back, gripping your hip tightly. “Jesus Christ. Y-Yeah I’m good, just trying not to— fuck- end this too quickly.”
He moves a bit, readjusting him arms to hold weight up a little easier.
“But you’re really wet and, like, really warm,” He grunts, almost accusingly. “And I really like you, so,”
You can’t help it — a little laugh titters out of you, one of pure delight because Steve is sincere about his feelings. The laugh only serves to make Steve groan louder.
“Shit,” He gasps, his forehead pressing into your shoulder. “You can’t laugh right now, it’s so not helping.”
“Sorry,” you laugh again, a little more apologetic this time.
Then, after a moment of gathered bravery, you say, “I don’t think I like this position. I can’t see your face.”
Steve makes a pained noise from behind you, a breathy and sharp inhale, and suddenly his grip on your hip is twice as tight.
“I’m gonna need you to stop talking. Please.” He grits out, voice sounding tight and barely restraining the moan in it. “I’m trying really hard here but you’re making this impossible.”
Steve shifts on his elbow again, bicep bulging as he lowers himself to one side. His hips press into your backside, sinking himself further into your wet heat, as he settles his weight down onto the mattress. The springs make a noise in protest.
You’re still closely intertwined, Steve pressed up against you, still throbbing within you, but now it’s more like… you’re spooning.
You settle down too, forcing out an exhale to let yourself melt back into Steve’s chest.
He lets out a soft groan again but the new position means he can bury his face in your neck properly— and when you turn your head right, he seizes the chance for a kiss.
He kisses sweet and slow to begin with, plush lips nipping at yours as if you’re not already in the throes of sex. Like he kisses you hello. His nose nudges against yours and he shimmies an arm beneath you on the bed. It curls itself around your stomach and Steve uses it to bring you even closer.
“Is this better?” He whispers. He nudges his hips for a bit, giving a gentle thrust. Something warm flares at the pit of your belly, hungry for more. “Still okay?”
You nod, a whimper escaping your throat as you steal another kiss from his lips. “Yes,” You whisper, lips scraping against his, hardly believing it. “Feels— feels good, baby,”
Steve finally gives in to his moan, a beautiful noise that sends heat rushing between your thighs. He begins to move more, building a gentle rhythm as he fucks into you, sensual and adoring all in one.
Time drips away. You feel much warmer now, pressed up against Steve’s chest, with his kisses all around. One of his hands stays dutifully between your legs, pushing around your bundle of nerves and pulling weak, soft noises from you. The other, you cling to, your fingers twisted as best they can with his.
Pleasure wraps the pair of you up til a soft glow of sex and love settles over the both of you. Steve murmurs doting words, an endless stream of encouragement pouring from his mouth as he nibbles at the shell of your ear.
Still feelin’ good? Yeah, you are. Just listen to you- sounding so pretty wrapped around my cock.
Fuck, your pussy makes the cutest noises. So wet f’me, isn’t she? God, you drive me crazy.
You’re taking me so well, yeah? Being so fuckin’ good f’me- letting me know how you feel. M’so lucky - fuckin’ love— love this with you.
You don’t even realise when every gasp out your mouth has turned into a moan, each breath building and mounting. Your chest heaves and Steve’s motions go from lazy to focused. His hips slow a little but his fingers over your clit speed up, dancing across the nerves perfectly.
You clutch desperately at the arm he has wrapped around your waist, your head thrown back to rest on his shoulders with your eyes screwed shut. Your hole clenches wildly as you hurtle towards your orgasm— and go right over the edge without warning.
You make this cute little gasping noise, high pitched and wrapped in a pretty sigh, and Steve doesn't think he's ever heard something so sensual, so pretty. His blood seems to thrum in response, pleasure turning the coil in his gut tighter and tighter.
Euphoria melts into your body and you sag into it with a drawn out soft moan, turning your face to search for Steve’s in an instant. One of your hands darts up, sloppily reaching for the back of his neck, suddenly starved of a kiss.
You find his lips right as Steve finds his peak— his handsome face screwing up as he all but whines into your mouth. You capture it, some heavy, open mouthed kiss of desperation shared between you.
Pleasure flows over you, hot and heavy, fuelled by the frantic grinds of Steve’s hips into yours as he whimpers into your mouth. Even though some part of you feels vulgar, another, louder, part of you feels like you've taken part in something sacred. Steve's fierce kiss certain feels akin to something holy.
After a minute, the euphoria fades. You settle back into your body, feeling the scratch of the cotton sheets beneath you, the sweat of Steve’s chest on your back, the slightly discomfort in between your thighs.
Steve can feel it, the moment you tense back up, some unwelcome twinge of pain in your gut. He’s shuffling back and pulling out before you even have to ask.
Without his chest to lean on, you roll backward naturally and flop onto your back, still panting lightly. Steve shifts up to hover above you.
“You good?” He asks, that same breathlessness in his voice. He smiles handsomely, his hair a little limper than usual, flopping over his forehead. He looks gorgeous. “You did great.”
That almost makes you laugh, the sincere praise so like one might give a child, but Steve seals it with a kiss to your forehead. Your laugh turns into a sheepish but giddy grin. “I’m gonna take the condom off, I’ll be right back.”
He disappears from your line of sight for a minute or two and you can hear him rustling around in his room.
Without any distractions, you suddenly remember the film you’d put on in the beginning, still running at the end of the bed— the final credits are just starting to roll. The streetlights glow a little brighter in the evening dark through the curtains.
You huff out a breath and your smile comes without even trying. In fact, if Steve hadn’t come back when he did, you’re sure you would’ve started giggle to yourself madly, cocooned in your own contentedness. That same awed, gleeful smile just like the first time round.
“You look like a dope, smiling like that, you know that?”
Steve’s wearing a pair of boxers, green plaid, and he’s got a fresh, warm wash-cloth in his hands.
"I didn't know that," You muse playfully.
“Hey,” He changes tone to less playful, kneeling on the bed. You notice the change of clothes in his other hand when he throws them onto the duvet beside him. “M’just gonna clean you up a bit, that okay?”
You’re sure there’s a pinch of embarrassment in you somewhere but, still blissed from your orgasm, you can’t manage to find it. Steve is quick and precise, the warm cloth wiping up any excess sticky fluids. He kisses the inside of your knee when he’s done.
“All done,” He murmurs, climbing back off the bed in the direction of the bathroom, switching off the television as he does. He gestures to the clothes at the foot of the bed as he walks. “Y’can wear these if you want.”
Finally feeling less flattened, you shift up to lean on your elbows. He’s grabbed you a pair of his boxers, the matching blue pair to his green, and one of his old Hawkins swim-team shirts. You slip into both quickly, your heart going a bit fuzzy with how soft the shirt is.
Then you crawl beneath the covers, blood still rushing far faster than usual and a satisfied tiredness beginning to sink into your body. You can't help but thinking it all over — Steve's mouth between your legs, the feel of him sinking into you, the ecstasy of falling apart in his arms.
Part of you hadn't wanted to acknowledge that, well, it fucking worked this time and you enjoyed it. A niggly fear about jinxing it. Like if you pointed it out, it would incite the likelihood of your body turning on you once more. Robbing you of pleasure and experience in equal measure.
But when Steve comes bounding back to the bed, dragging back the covers to join you beneath them, you speak first.
"So, that didn't suck." You say excitedly, biting back your grin as Steve settles down beside you.
Together, you share one pillow as he scooches in closer. His hands reach out, searching for you amongst the sheets. When he finds your hips, he uses them to drag you closer to him, a halfhearted cuddle.
He lets out a puff of air against the pillow, a light snort. "I mean, hopefully it didn't just not suck."
If you had more energy, you might give him a playful shove because you know he knows what you mean. He'd seen the whole display of nervous emotions attached to sex all the way leading up to it.
Instead, heart feeling awfully gooey in your chest, you seize the opportunity to press in closer to him. Your head tucks beneath his chin, your lips barely grazing his throat.
"It was really good." You whisper, lashes fluttering as your eyes fight to stay open. Steve's warm on a good day. He's hot as a furnace with all the blood that's pumping around still. Perfect for snuggling up with.
"Yeah?" He sounds delightfully pleased, but not the smug kind. He sounds happy that you enjoyed it.
Then he whispers, "Told you it wasn't you."
His big palm sweeps up your back soothingly.
He's right. You've never been so glad to be on the receiving end of an I told you so before. Not that Steve would say that (at least, not right now).
Cuddling in closer, you wriggle one hand out from beneath the covers, not bothering to pull back or open your eyes when you murmur, "Just had sex high-five?"
You can feel Steve's laugh as it rumbles through his throat. It's an inside joke now, it seems.
"Hell yeah." He wiggles one hand free and slaps it against yours, probably a little harder than necessary. You laugh too, the sound a mixture of joy and sleep.
And yeah, okay, you might get it now. The whole big fuss around sex that everyone seems to make—but maybe you don't entirely agree with them.
There was something more in the... trust. In knowing that Steve wouldn't have cared which way it happened, as long as you were both enjoying it. In the intimacy shared, even before you had ever slept together. In the waiting. In the wanting—for both yourself and for Steve.
There's some grandeur discovery you've uncovered, you're sure of it, about the mystery and craze around sex. You just keep losing the string of thoughts to your slumber which drifts ever closer.
Oh well. You can always put it all together in the morning when you're not so tempted by sleep and bundled up in the arms of a boy who you love. For now, you drift off, fulfilled and content.
tags below! (seven months later...)
@roanniom @madaboutjoe @huang-the-geek @pootcullen @superskittles
@hales-who-loves-to-reid @spear-bearing-bi-witch @daisiesandinvasives @season4steve @thelauraborealis
@mmmunson @everythinghasafacee @katethetank @sorry--for-the-mess @matterdontminduntildone
@blowing-mikey @astoryreader @mulletmcghee @sugarcoatedstarkey @pullhisteeth
(these are just the ppl in the tags that mentioned wanting to be tagged! if i know u follow me and are a regular, i didn't bother tagging u cos i know you'll see it hehehe <3)
#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington#steve x reader#steve harrington smut#steve harrington x reader smut#jay writes#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x you smut#steve x reader smut#all my chatter goes after the tags now cos did u guys know that after twenty tags apparently they just dont count tags???#lawd knows im not wasting my first twenny on my rambling#i have MUCH to say about this piece#but mainly im so glad its fookin FINISHED#i can literally see the line breaks in the fic where i stopped and left it for a month#i know the fandom be quiet between seasons but hopefully people be down for some#good ol super into each other figuring it out sex <3#again - this is entirely indulgent tehe !#but i know there's lot of peeps out there with similar experiences and i hope this resonates for them#mwah!#enough jabbering !
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JUJUTSU KAISEN'S ANATOMY
A/N: God I LOVE when you guys let me break the 4th wall. Most of you guys already know my specialty but in my junior years of residency I had to rotate on different services as part of training. Everyone loves a well rounded doctor.
Anon, you’re insane for this ask. I could never write a full medical fan fic because it’s TOO close to home and I already spend 100 hours/week at the hospital I need to escape it somehow.
Nevertheless, I’m SO happy to indulge you, baby. Let’s get into it. I’ll break this up into two parts. The Attendings, then The Residents.
ATTENDINGS ON CALL
Dr. Satoru Gojo:
Specialty: TRAUMA SURGERY
Most people incorrectly assume trauma surgeons to be stern and intense. I would argue that they are the opposite. They are so deeply unserious. My co-residents and I legit played pranks on our attendings 24/7 during the rotation - right up this blue-eyed psychopath’s alley. When push comes to shove, they get the job fucking done. The most calm under pressure. A patient comes in coding and requires a thoracotomy and its your first one. You have less than 5 minutes to access the heart and massage — Satoru would stand behind you. Steadying your hand.
“Good. More pressure on the incision. Spread the fascia. Good. Don’t puncture the lung, they need that right?”
And the second you get to the heart he gives you a tiny nod of approval. Takes over at the head of the bed. You’re in for a LONG OR night with Dr. G, hope you had dinner.
Dr. Suguru Geto:
Specialty: PLASTIC & RECONSTRUCTIVE SURGERY
Alright chat, hear me out. I know what you are about to say. I am biased because it’s my specialty and the boy is fucking pretty. But contrary to popular belief aesthetic surgery is 10% of our field. We do burn, hand, bony and soft tissue craniofacial (cleft lip, palate, etc), cancer reconstruction, trauma reconstruction, etc. Suguru is meticulous. He can sew up a severed 4 mm peripheral nerve with his eyes closed. He demands perfection in EVERY case. In the OR he watches your hands like a hawk.
“Don’t skive the blade or the dermis will be uneven.” “Approximate, don’t strangulate.” “Cut that stitch out and do it perfectly the next time.”
And when it’s good. I mean fucking flawless. He looks at you over his mask with those violet eyes. ONLY smiling with his eyes.
“Good job. Make it perfect next time.” — This is the highest form of praise you will ever receive from a plastic surgeon. We are chronically unimpressed. Take it and RUN.
Dr. Kento Nanami:
Specialty: TRANSPLANT SURGERY
Phew this one is going to make me emotional. Nanami has a very special and private ceremony he does to honor those that have given life to others with their bodies. He sits on the top of a hill by the airport. For each plane that takes off, he names a donor patient, thanks them, and says his goodbye. Your first kidney transplant (personal experience) you cry like a little baby when they pink up and the patient starts making urine at the end of the case.
Nanami tilts his head and chuckles. “Congratulations, doctor. You just made your patient urinate. How does it feel?”
For a patient who has been on Hemodialysis for a decade. Chained to machines 3x/week. Can’t remember the last time they’ve independently gone to the bathroom? It feels fucking amazing. You’d cry too.
Dr. Ryomen Sukuna
Specialty: ORTHOPEDIC SURGERY
Who here is shocked? Raise your hand? Because I don’t know WHAT contract the orthopods have with the Gods but every single one of them is 6’5, works out 3 times/day and drinks muscle milk in between cases. The thing about Ryo is that he doesn’t give a single FUCK if the patient is 99 years old on blood thinners, 10L of O2 at home because of COPD — he WILL take them to the OR and he WILL smash that hip to smithereens because a hip replacement is a hip replacement okay?
I kid you not, my attending and I came into the OR to finish reconstruction on an ortho case. I’m 5’3, my attending is 5’0. The orthopods were 6’5 and 6’6 the patient table was basically touching the ceiling. When we scrubbed in they had the audacity to say:
“Can we lower the table to plastics height?”
RUDE.
Dr. Shoko Ieiri
Specialty: NEUROSURGERY
This one is obvious. Neurosurgeons are brilliant. Naturally some of the most gifted humans I have ever met. Special grade. And given the unfortunate outcomes a lot of their patients face, they all have a darkness about them. Both charming and intimidating. Twisted humor to cope with devastating loss after loss. I don’t have to explain much here. After a 15 hour Chordoma case, Shoko walks outside the HOSPITAL to smoke a CIGAR.
Literally everyone is like???? Aren’t you a literal doctor??? Our moody brunette just takes a long drag and says:
“Do me a favor. If I ever need a ventilator to breathe for more than 48 hours, pull the plug and smother me with a pillow.”
(Shoko I’m here anytime if you want someone to smother—what?! Who?)
Dr. Utahime Iori
Specialty: ANESTHESIA
The Gas Gang. EVERYONE loves the anesthesiologists. Fiercely intelligent. Insane handle on physiology. The sleeper pick. They are the smartest person in the room. Surgeons are just fancy plumbers. Anesthesiologists actually keep the patient alive. And the thing about our Gas Gods, is that they WILL take a coffee break, ok? All that standing for 10 hours shit is NOT for them.
Part II: Meet your first year residency class. Grunts. Bottom of the surgical food chain. Hope they slept after med school graduation because the first shift lasts 36 hours. And you work every second night until you drop.
Eat when you can. Sleep when you can. And DON'T fuck with the pancreas (and for the love of GOD don't fuck the attendings)
#bunnyblabs#jjk imagines#jjk x reader#jjk drabbles#jjk headcannons#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#jjk gojo#gojo x reader#suguru geto x reader#satoru gojo x reader#geto suguru x reader#ryomen sukuna#utahime iori#jjk sukuna#kento nanami#kento nanami x reader#shoko ieri x reader#shoko x you#ryomen x reader#geto x reader#jjk geto#jjk nanami#gojo jjk#jjk satoru#jjk smut#geto smut#gojo smut#jjk fluff#nanami fluff
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Mattheo with a s/o who’s an experienced fighter. Like they literally flipped a student over a table type shir
MATTHEO’S GIRL / mattheo riddle
mattheo riddle x fem reader
summary: lavender brown gives your man a love potion… what else can you do but fight her?
warnings: fighting/violence (not super explicit), swearing, fluff, suggestive ending (no smut), lavender brown slander (i’m sorry! i don’t even dislike her, i just didn’t know who else to use)
words: 1.2k
a/n: thank u for the request anon, i hope i did whatever you had in your head justice <3 also, i used that one prompt that was like “you’re cute when you’re mad” “ well i’m about to get real fucking adorable” i can’t remember where it was from so lmk if you do!!
masterlist
Sometimes, Lorenzo Berkshire wonders if he made the right choice by introducing you to Mattheo.
Sure, he loved that his friend was happy and in love, but Merlin, the two of you together was like pouring gasoline on a fire. A wildfire.
Mattheo Riddle wasn’t familiar with solving altercations using anything but his fists and unfortunately, you were the exact same way. At least you could say neither of you has ever lost a fight.
“Blaise, pass me the syrup.” You muttered, licking crumbs of waffles off your finger.
The Great Hall was abuzz with chattering students, the scent of bacon and eggs wafting in the air and the relaxing hum of rain outside illuminating the atmosphere.
“Y/N, I’m proud of you, to be honest,” Blaise, who sat across from you, mused as he handed you the small pitcher of syrup. Your brows furrowed, curiosity etching over your features.
“Why are you proud of me, may I ask?” You chuckled, drizzling the syrup over your waffles.
“Why? Because you didn’t rip that girl’s hair out.” He snorted, confused as to why Enzo was shaking his head at him beside you.
You looked up from your waffles, smile dropping. “What girl?”
“Um… The one who tried to give Mattheo a love potion?” He laughed nervously and Enzo shut his eyes and sighed in disappointment.
You ran your tongue over your teeth and took in a deep breath in an attempt to calm the swirling storm of fury already bubbling in your chest. “Blaise. What girl?” Your voice was dangerously quiet and Blaise’s eyes widened as he licked his lips, clearly terrified that you’d hex him on the spot if he didn’t spill.
“Lavender Brown.” The words immediately rushed out of his mouth, making it evident that he’d much rather save himself. He just wished Mattheo hadn’t slept in this morning and was here to calm his girl down.
“Explain exactly what happened,” you demand.
The words spill out of Blaise’s mouth at a comically fast speed as he aggressively cuts his waffles up with his knife.
“She was talking to him after class because McGonagall asked her to tutor him in DADA and she offered him a cookie but Pansy had heard Lavender the other day in the library, telling Parvati about how she’d finally found a way to, and I quote, ‘steal Y/N’s man.’ So, we pulled him away before he could accept.” The sentences were almost indecipherable with the way Blaise was rushing them out but you caught every word, the glass in your hand almost shattering with the death grip you had on it.
“Okay,” You whispered, standing up. Just as you began walking to the Gryffindor table, your boyfriend brushed past you.
“Hey, baby, good morni—” He instantly shut up when he saw that crazed look in your eyes. “Oh, I take it, you found out.” He winced, his face scrunching up in worry and a little bit of amusement.
“Matt, I love you, babe, but get the fuck out of my way.” His arms grabbed at you, stopping you in your tracks. “Y/N, come on. I don’t wanna see you get hurt, baby.”
“Okay, many things are wrong with that statement. First, it’s funny hearing that come from you, Mister I Love Fighting. And second, you seriously think that bitch could hurt me? With her weak little arms?”
He chuckled, his hand coming up to caress your face, thumb brushing over your pouty lower lip before kissing it.
“You’re cute when you’re angry, you know?”
“Well, then I’m about to get real fucking adorable.” You shoved past him, making a beeline for the Gryffindor table, only to find that Lavender isn’t there. So, instead, you clutched Parvati’s shoulder in your hand and turned her around to look you in the eye as you leaned down to her level.
“Where’s your little friend?” You questioned, your angry eyes boring into her widened, fearful ones as she realizes Lavender’s been caught by, arguably, the scariest girl in school.
“Courtyard,” She squeaked, betraying her friend.
You nodded, eyes set on the exit as you let go of her, much to her relief as her tensed up shoulders relaxed again. Ignoring Mattheo and your friends trailing behind you, you bolted towards the courtyard and put your hair up in a ponytail as you prepared to throw hands at 9:30 in the fucking morning.
The second you spot that head of curly blonde hair, all you can see is red, rushing towards her and grabbing her by the back of the head, pulling her away from her friends. She squealed in pain as you pulled on the strands of her hair before pushing her forwards by the head.
“Ow! You psycho bitch!” Her whiny voice rang out, drawing the attention of everyone in the courtyard. Her words only fueled the anger you were harboring, steam practically coming out of your ears. With a red face, you muttered, “Oh, I’ll show you psycho.”
She attempted to tackle you but you easily dodged her predictable move and instead, waited for her to face you again before landing a punch directly on her jaw, drawing out a yelp.
Before she has the time to react, you snatch her shirt and drag her over to the picnic table nearby, your anger charging your strength as you hurl her body over the table, her back sliding across it before tumbling onto the floor, a pained groan escaping her lips.
Mattheo’s lips parted in shock, unknowing of whether to be concerned or proud of you.
“Merlin, she really is Mattheo’s girl.” Theo mutters, noting the similarities between you and your boyfriend.
You sighed and sauntered around over to her, as if this was just another Tuesday, and kneeled down to mutter in her ear, “A love potion? Are you really that desperate? Listen Lavender, you even look at what’s not yours again, and you’ll be sporting a damn body cast.”
A small smirk blossomed on your boyfriend's lips, his brows raising in amusement as you walked back over to him and planted a firm kiss on his lips.
Lavender, who’s standing now with the help of her friends, huffs exasperatedly. “He probably doesn't even want you!”
And it’s all red again. You lunged at her but your boyfriend’s arms wrapped around your waist before you could get a single punch in, securely holding you in place, your back pressed to his chest. “Let go!” You writhed around, trying to free yourself from his grasp
“It’s okay, baby.” He kissed your cheek. “I know you wanna make her bleed, but it's okay.” It’s almost laughable how sweet and soothing the words are, despite what they’re saying.
He eventually dragged you back to his dorm, deciding to skip your first classes so he could tend to your slightly bruised knuckles. You seemed to have acquired some cuts, splintered wood sticking out of your skin from when you threw Lavender over the table.
Sitting on his bed with a first aid kit beside him, he brought your hand up to his lips, kissing the small cuts before cleaning and bandaging them up. “I’m not gonna lie, the possessiveness was kind of hot.” He told you with a suggestive smirk. “You’re insane, you know that?”
”Maybe we both are.” You giggled, leaning up to plant a kiss on his jawline.
“Maybe.” He murmured, his voice turning low and husky as he stared down at you. “You’re sexy when you fight.”
He smiled as his back hit the back, your pretty face hovering above him.
#mattheo riddle#mattheo riddle x reader#mattheo riddle x y/n#mattheo riddle x you#slytherin boys#harry potter#slytherin#theodore nott#benjamin wadsworth#reader insert#theo nott#x reader#marcus lopez arguello#mattheo riddle fluff#mattheo riddle smut#lorenzo berkshire#blaise zabini#request#requests are open
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But I Have You...
Just a treat for all the angst I've been posting lately! Thank you @daycourtofficial for such a cute idea!
Summary: Date night with Azriel. What could go wrong? Apparently everything...
Warnings: Making out, mentions of food/cooking, allusions to smut, modern-ish AU
Wc: 3.3k
Date night with Azriel was one of your favorite days of the entire week. Calling it date “night” was an understatement. You and Azriel were normally both so busy with your duties that you tried to make a whole day out of it, or as close as it could be.
“Go bathe.” You pointed towards the door of the bathroom, brush still in your outstretched hand.
“Are you trying to tell me I stink?” He quirked an eyebrow at you, stalking closer to you. He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you against his chest.
“Yes. Now go. We’re going to be late for dinner.” You squeal when he begins to tickle your side, holding you against him as you try to squirm out of his hold.
“I yield. Please…Az” You manage to get out between your fit of laughter. He plants a wet kiss on your cheek before turning around and dramatically stomps to the bathroom, making a show of the small action. You laugh as he rolls his eyes as he closes the door, a large smile plastered to his face letting you know he wasn’t really mad or annoyed with you.
Taking the opportunity to finally get dressed, you all but run to the closet. Edgar to pull out the new dress that you had picked out with MOr last week. It was the exact color of his siphons. You greedily ran your hand over the velvet fabric, already loving the way it felt under your hands. The fabric being one of the very few that didn’t irritate Azriel’s hands over a prolonged time.
You quickly pull your lounge clothes over your head, kicking them off into some random corner of the room to deal with later. The bag holding the dress is discarded in a similar fashion after being torn open. It was just as beautiful as you remember it being and you can’t wait to get it on your body. Even more excited to see Azriel’s reaction.
.You are practically skipping over to your underwear drawer, picking out a small lacy set that you bought to go with the dress. It slides over your skin like butter, clinging to your body like a second skin. It stops about mid-thigh. Just short enough to be sexy but not too short that you were scared to bend over, which you would definitely be doing if for nothing more than giving the shadowsinger a peak of what exactly was waiting for him underneath the dress.
Pulling the straps over your shoulders, you only need to zip the dress up. YOu managed to tug it up halfway before the zipper got stuck on the seam at your waist. A couple more tugs and the stupid thing still won’t budge. You know you could just ask Azriel. He would never object to zipping you up but you knew there would be no way you would make it to your reservation if you did so. So you tugged once more, twice more, and then. Riiiipppp. Your jaw goes slack as the zipper finally tugs the rest of the way up, taking the other half of the zipper with it. The thin fabric stuck under the teeth and tore a large hole in the brand-new dress.
“Fuck!” You shout out once you survey the damage in the mirror. You would not have time to fix this before your reservations.
“Darling, what’s-” You hear your mate's voice filter into the room before he cuts himself off. You turn to face him and he’s gawking at you, towel slung low around his hips.
“It ripped. I just got this dress.” You whine. A chuckle leaves him and the sound has you pouting. “I just got this. It was going to be perfect for tonight.”
“You know that you could always…not wear anything.” His eyes are still trailing up and down your figure.
“Az! I’m serious.” You softly shout at him
“So am I.” He doesn’t hesitate to respond. You blush at his words. “Can we just skip dinner?”
“No sir. It took us months to get this reservation.”
“Rhys could get us in with a snap of his fingers.”
“But I want to go tonight. I already looked at the menu and picked out what I wanted.”
“Of course you did, lovely.” You stuck your tongue out at him, making him throw his head back in laughter. “Just go pick any of the other hundred dresses you have.” He teases and it’s your turn to stomp out of the room. Rolling your eyes at him, a smile so wide it makes your cheeks hurt. Your finger runs over dress after dress and none of them seem to be right. Already having your mind set on the perfect dress, it’s hard to find one to replace it. Your hands finally brush over one that you had forgotten about. A lighter shade than your previous dress, but it would do.
You pull it off the hanger with more force than necessary and peel the other one off, throwing it across the room with a huff. You pad over to Azriel when you have it pulled onto your shoulders, not willing to risk another zipper fiasco. You don’t even have to ask him before he takes the delicate zipper in his hands and pulls it up smoothly in one motion. He presses a kiss to the dip between your shoulder blades as he slides the zipper up into place. You notice his eyes dipping down in the mirror. You’re about to tease him for his wandering gaze when he clears his throat.
“I think there might be…I don’t even know what that is. Wine?”
“You’ve got to be kidding me!” YOu shout, turning around trying to see your backside in the mirror and sure enough. There is a random stain right at the small of your back. And then you remember. You wore this dress the last time you went to Rita’s with Mor and you had bumped into someone, someone that was holding a nearly full drink that splashed onto your back.
“Whatever. What-fucking-ever. We’re going to be late and this was the only dress I liked.” YOu take a deep breath through your nose. “Just stand behind me so no one sees it.” He nods before his eyes drift lower once again, this time pausing when you know he isn’t looking at the stain anymore.
“Twist my arm, why don’t you?” He grumbled to himself which has you spinning around to wrap your arms around his waist.
“What would I ever do without you, Azzy.”
“Walk around with a stain on your butt.”
“Prick. I was trying to be cute.” You feign insult. He only leans down and gives you a small peck on the lips.
“Let's go then.” He gives your ass a soft slap for emphasis. You scramble to grab your purse from the edge of the bed and catch up with him.
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The walk to the restaurant wasn’t bad at all. It was only a few blocks away from the apartment the two of you shared. A pleasant walk with even sidewalks that made it easy for your heeled feet to walk.
The dull noise of the restaurant filled your ears the moment the door closed behind you. The decoration was very modern but still seemed very homey. Like it had been pulled directly from a cooking show set. Blue and white gingham tablecloths mixed with gold brushed metals. It was one of the newest, and if the wait you had for the reservation was any sign, most popular restaurants in the area. The hostess asks for your name and you give it to her. She scrolls through the tablet in front of her, eyebrows furrowing slightly. She turns to a large book by her side and flips to a page, finger scanning down the lines of names.
“Would it be under a different name?” She looks up and asks you.
“It could be under Azriel.” You were one hundred percent you had made the reservation under your name but found yourself giving his name either way. The line in her eyebrow deepens and your heart sinks as she turns back to you.
“It looks like we don;t have anything under that name. And we’re fully booked tonight so we aren’t talking walk-ins.”
“No, I called last month. I know I made a reservation. It wouldn’t be anywhere else?” You keep your voice low, not wanting to let your disappointment make you yell at the poor girl at the host stand.
“I’m sorry, it’s not in our system and like I said, we’re completely full tonight. Do you want me to make you a reservation for another night?” You shook your head. Too distraught to think about another night.
“It’s fine. Thank you.” Azriel said, noticing the way tears were starting to swim in your eyes. He took your hand lightly and pulled you out of the restaurant. He wrapped his arms around you and you buried your head into his chest.
“I’m sorry. I know it’s silly to be getting upset over this but I’m just really…I don’t even know.”
“You’re allowed to be disappointed baby. You’ve been talking all week about this.” He pulled your face up with one of his fingers. “How about we go to that pizza place you really like?” You perked up a little at the thought making Azriel smile at your mood change. “There she is.” He kissed your cheek. “Lets go.” He started walking you in the direction of the small pizza shop. As upset as you might be, you did love this spot. One of the few places that didn’t make their sauce too acidic or too sweet. Perfect crust to pizza ratio. It was always your fall back place and it was a great suggestion from your boyfriend.
You walked the few blocks to the shop and stood outside the door. One look at the sign made your heart sink all over again. Closed for repairs. Azriel gave your hand a squeeze.
“Azzzzzz.” You whined, fighting the urge to stomp your foot like a toddler.
“It’s okay baby. We can do something else.” He pulled you into his arms again, once again calming you down.
“Can we make pizza at home?”
“Of course we can.” He smiled down at you. Then you remembered.
“Shit. Elain used the rest of our flour for some cookies last week.”
“Then we’ll go to the store.”
“Az we can’t go to the store dressed like this.” You gestured to your dress and his crisp black dress shirt and matching pants.
“Why not?”
“Because we’ll look crazy.”
“Do you want pizza?”
“Yes.”
“Then we need to go to the store. Come on.” He started pulling you in the direction of a small corner store at the other end of the square.
You felt so silly, small shopping basket in hand, you in your tight dress and heels and Azriel in his dress clothes. But luckily, no one paid you any attention. Too focused on their own shopping to even notice you. Picking up the bag of flour, you also grabbed some cheese, and some fresh basil to put on top. Azriel led you over to the check out but not before grabbing a bottle of wine as you passed by the section. The cashier rang you out quickly and smiled at the two of you as you walked out of the store. Not once commenting or even raising an eyebrow at your attire, much to your pleasure.
Your feet were screaming at you by the time you got to the door of your apartment. Not expecting to walk as much as you did. Azriel, seeing the discomfort in your face, leaned down to undo the straps off your heels. He gave a small tap to your ankle to let you know that you could step out of them before he repeated the motion to your other foot. A sigh left your lips as your feet touched the ground, screaming in relief. Azriel gave you a small kiss on your knee before standing back up.
“Thank you.” You told him as he grabbed the bag from your arms and walked into the kitchen.
“I should change if we’re going to be making dough.” You said as you followed him into the kitchen. He wrapped his arms around your waist.
“Or you could keep it on and let me peel you out of it later?” He suggested, furthering his words by kissing along your jaw. You fought the urge to melt against his hold.
“You’ve convinced me. I’ll keep it on.”
“Good girl.” He spoke before giving your ass a light slap as he released you. You heated up from head to toe at his words. You shook your head as he started to unpack the groceries, trying to clear your head of the less than innocent thoughts rushing through you. So you started to pull out the other necessary ingredients and placed them on the counter next to Azriel. He opened the flour and started to pour it into the bowl you pulled out from the cabinet. He gives you a quick kiss on the forehead as he takes the olive oil from your hands and starts working on the dough. It was soe recipe he knew that made quick, non-proofing, dough. Something he learned from Rhys’ mother he had told you one time. In no time the dough was made and he started rolling it out. You peeked over his shoulder and had to bite back a laugh when you saw the speckling of flour on his cheek. He looked over at you with a raised eyebrow.
“You’ve got something…” You reached out your hand to swipe the streak away. “Right there.” You giggled at his annoyed expression.
“You mean right,” He dipped his hand into some of the flour that had spilled onto the counter and flicked it towards your hair. “There?” You squealed as you realized what he was doing, moving just too late to avoid the flour from getting into your hair.
“Az!” You said in between your laughing. “You got my hair dirty.” You gave him a dramatic pout, looking up at him which in turn made him start laughing.
“Oh no, guess I’ll just have to wash it out later.” He nudged you with his shoulder which only made you roll your eyes, a smile plastered onto your face.
“I guess….”
“What do you want on your pizza?” He quickly changed the topic.
“Just cheese please.” You smiled up at him and he nodded. He quickly spread some of the jarred sauce on with the back of a spoon and sprinkled on a handful, or three, of the shredded cheese you bought at the store. You smiled at the heap of cheese on your pizza, just the way you liked it. None of the sauce was visible under the coating and he smiled at you as you helped him slide in onto the pan. He quickly did the same to his own, adding a few slices of the tomato and a handful of basil on top.
With the pizza’s in the oven it would only be a few minutes until they were ready, just enough to let the cheese melt.
Azriel leaned against the counter, already holding two wine glasses in his hand. YOu walked over and grabbed them from his hand, placing a quick kiss to his lips and putting them down on the counter. He leaned down and grabbed your face between his hands, pulling your lips back to his. You let yourself sink into the kiss. The first real kiss you two shared all night. His teeth scraped against your bottom lip and you whined against him. He chuckled deeply, the sound reverberating through you and heating your blood instantly. You whined again and you felt Azriel backing you up into the counter across the kitchen. His hands snaked down to your waist and tapped, silently asking you to jump onto the countertop. You obliged and he helped hoist you up so your lips didn't leave his. Your hands snaked into his dark locks, pulling his face even closer to yours. His hands started wandering down your hips, grabbing at the fat of your hips, pulling you somehow closer to him. Your mouth parted in a moan at the tight grip and you used that as an opportunity to slide his tongue against yours. You bit down lightly, pulling away from the kiss. Both of your were panting but he just trailed kisses down your neck, down to the neckline of your dress. He had just snuck a hand up to pull down the fabric when you noticed a burning smell in the air. Shit. You pushed him away, already hoping off the counter. He looked at you, confused at your sudden shift. Then his eyes widened as he remembered the pizza you had both seemingly forgotten about. You quickly grabbed one of the over mitts sitting on the counter and pulled the pizza’s out. If you could even call the nearly black circles on the pan you were pathetically holding out in front of you.
You really couldn’t find it in yourself to be disappointed. Not when you could still feel Azriel’s lips ghosting along your skin. You pushed the contents of the pan into the garbage can and looked up at Azriel. Both of you immediately bursted out laughing. He walked over to you and pressed a kiss to the top of your head.
“I’m sorry baby.”
“I’m not.” You winked at him.
“Well what are we going to do for dinner now.”
“There's ice cream in the freezer?” You shrugged. Suddenly not in the mood for cooking at all. You bit your lip as you looked at him and he laughed in response.
“Okay. Ice cream for dinner it is.”
So the two of you, still in your clothes from the failed dinner reservations, curled up on the couch. Each holding a pint of ice cream and the now full wine glasses on the table in front of you. Azriel had thrown a blanket over the two of you and put on some cheesy movie that neither of you were paying attention to.
“I’m sorry tonight was such a disaster” You said to him, mouth still half full of ice cream. He shook his head, leaning his face closer to yours until your foreheads were touching.
“I got to be with you, what more can I ask for?”
The two of you nearly finished the bottle of wine, Azriel had already placed the nearly empty ice cream containers back into the freezer. When he returned to the couch he pulled you against his chest, hand swirling random patterns onto your back. You felt your eyes getting very heavy as you tried your best to focus on the movie in front of you but the wine was lulling you to sleep. It felt like your eyes had closed for only a second before Azriel was shaking you awake.
“Hi sleepyhead.” He mumbled into your hair.
“I was not asleep for that long.”
“Long enough to drool on me.” You quickly shot up, hand going to wipe away any wetness that might have split from your mouth. Your hand was dry. You stuck your tongue out at him as he gave you a wicked smile. He pulled you back down to his chest, twisting you so you were now straddling him.
“I think I can find a perfect way to wake you darling.” And that was all you needed to hear before you pressed your lips against his. Very much awake.
#acotar#acosf#acomaf#acotar fanfiction#azriel x reader#acowar#azriel acotar#a court of thorns and roses#azriel x you#azriel fluff
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I love that we’re getting to know more about Koda, so I have a question. Does he ever get mad at the fact that he’s sick and can’t do everything his brothers can? Does he ever get mad at his mom? Kinda like when a little kid says I hate you after being told no, I doubt he’d mean that but most kids don’t think about it when they say it.
REMEMBER YOU ARE LOVED AND IMPORTANT ‼️‼️❤️❤️❤️
aww thank you anon. You are important too<3 always know that.
Honestly, Koda is my new favourite out of all the brothers, that and Hero. Cause Hero is just say to say some unhinged comment and vanishes to mind his own business. But to answer briefly, he does. And it breaks Reader's heart.
Why can't I go outside?
You stood in the kitchen watching from inside as your husband talked with one of the Ministers outside. It was an unexpected visit that was only found out an two hours before, but it was one you quickly managed to salvage.
Your husband and you had strict rules with visitors and one of them was if your visit is unexpected, you're sitting outside (unless cold of course or weather didn't allow it). You wanted to keep your house as germ free as possible and you could only do that by managing your own family and friends that understood. With acquentenaces it was harder. But you smiled as Hero seemed to be playing ball with the Minister of Defence's son.
"Mom." You turned around to see Kane walking over to you with a serious look on his face.
You smiled as you put down your glass of juice. "What's up, sweetheart?" You asked.
"It's Koda."
You paused as a small trickle of fear and anxiety washed over your body. You stepped forward, your eyebrows furrowed. "Is he sick? Is he running a fever again?"
Kane shook his head making you drop your shoulders in relief. "No, he just won't let me give him his medication. He won't sit still for his IV. He's..." Kane hesitated. You could see the conflict in his eyes. "He's upset."
You hummed, knowing that it was one of those days. You motioned for him to follow you as you headed upstairs. Koda was a sweet boy, with a heart of gold and ever so sensitive and often than not, he understood that he got sick easily and didn't mind all the adjustments in his life.
However, he was only just turned five. So naturally, he would get fed up with the accomodations needing to be made in his life.
You walked through the door with Kane. The interim room was set up as a sort of barrier between the outside world and your son. It's where you took the necessary precations before walking in. You washed your hands thoroughly, making sure to nearly scrub them till they felt tender. You let the air around you become still and cleaned as you slipped off your shoes, putting on new ones as you walked into Koda's room, Kane following inside.
Your son sat on his little dinosaur carpet, playing with his legos, building something with a frown on his face. The cabinets on the left hand side were clearly touched and opened, showing that Kane had been there, trying to help give Koda his medication. You saw the IV next to his bed that was untouched. His room, although decorated and stuffed with toys and all the things he loved, reminded you a lot like a hospital pediatric room than it did a bedroom, with its sterilised air and constant clean smell.
You took a breath, before crouching down to your son's height, going down on your knees. "Koda, my baby, Kane told me that you aren't allowing him to help you with your medicine." He nodded his head but didnt say anything else. "Can you tell me why?"
"I don't want it."
"My sprout, you know you have to take them. It helps keep you stronger." You reminded him. "Remember, big strong dinosaurs need to take their medic-"
"But why can't I go outside now!" He raised his voice at you turning to you with frustrated tears in his eyes. You tried not to show pain on your face. "I don't like them! I have them everyday! Why can't I play outside with Hero and the other new boy outside!" He pointed out at the windowseil, where he could sit and see the bunnies outside if he wanted to.
You took his little hand. "Koda, you know that other people can sometimes make you sick, and until daddy and I know that they won't, we have to be safe for you."
"Then why can't I go to school!" He shouted at you. "Like my brothers. Like Kane and Toshi!"
You swallowed down hard. You and your husband had agreed to keep Koda out of kindergarten. It was a hard decision to make but considering the risk of possibly losing your son over one kid who might end up giving him a cold, you took the risk. You made the efforts to have him play with friends and other young children like him who also often get sick, you made sure to always spend time with him and when your friends were over, you always asked them to make sure they were as healthy as possible and not to come over if they were sick and then Koda could spend time with everyone else.
But you knew, regardless, it would be suffocating for him.
"Koda, until you're just a little bit older and stronger, then we can talk to the doctors about getting you into school, but right now, your body can't handle being sick so well."
Koda frowned, folding his arms away from you as tears weld up in his beautiful eyes. You saw the pout on his face as he started to cry in frustration. "It's not fair!"
"I know, baby." You said trying to fight back emotions that you were feeling yourself. You moved to grab a hold of him but he started to fight back.
"It's not fair! IT'S NOT FAIR!" He screamed. "I hate it! I hate it! I hate you! Why can't I be normal!!" He shouted, sobbing as you held him in your arms.
You closed your eyes, feeling tears slip down from them no matter how hard you tried. You swallowed down hard as you tried not to let out anymore. You didn't want Kane to see you like this, you didn't want Koda to see you like this. But no matter how many therapy sessions and talking to Izuku, it never got any easier.
Giving birth to a child with primary immune disorder was something that you felt as though was entirely your fault. You knew it wasn't, but it never felt true.
"I WANT TO GO OUTSIDE!"
"I know. I know, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." You held him as he cried in your arms, screaming and sobbing in your chest. You held him tightly, making sure that he knew you were there. "I'm sorry."
Kane walked over to you, grabbing a fluffy blanket from Koda's bed to wrap around you. You gave him a sad smile as you held Koda. Kane was quiet on his feet, working fast as he quickly stuck the needle in the bottle, drawing out liquid and walking to the IV to push in the medication. He moved fast and quietly, reminding you of his father as he moved around shuffling in his slippers.
Koda had relaxed in your arms, tired and crying in your arms softly. Kane crouched down with the needle connected to the IV. He wiped Koda's arms with a disinfectant wipe before expertly putting in the IV in his arm. He put a dinosaur band-aid over it so it wouldn't come out.
You sat with Koda till he was fast asleep. At some point, Kane had left and grabbed dinner for you and Koda, however Koda was still very sleepy so he barely ate. His medication making him drowsy as he slept in your arms.
A hand came onto your shoulder, making you look up. Your husband looked down at you with a sad expression. It was just you and him with your little one in your arms. Izuku carefully moved down to sit down next to you. He easily moved to pick you up, despite you holding your son in your arms and he put you into his lap.
You leaned back against his chest, a tear slipping out of your eye as you stared into space.
"Kane told me what happened." He spoke softly as he rested his head on yours. He rubbed your arms as he held you in his big embrace.
"Izuku." You let out weakly as you titled your head to look up at him. "I... Have I failed him?" You asked softly as you turned to look down at Koda. "I'm his mother. I'm supposed to protect him. I was supposed to give him a healthy body. Why- why couldn't I-"
Before you could break down, your husband wrapped his arms, pulling you to face into his chest as he held you and his son in his large arms. He shushed you as your face broke into a sob. You felt a large hand move to wipe away your face.
"It is not your fault." He reminded you. "It is never your fault and it will never be your fault. It's no one's fault." You felt a kiss to your forehead. "Our son just needs a little more help and precautions than others and that's okay. He's going to be okay. He is okay." You nodded your head, wanting to believe in his words and not your own.
Your husband tilted your head up to look at him. Your eyes moved up to land on his face. Tears were in his beautiful green eyes as he looked down at you, a sad smile on his freckled face. You saw pain in his eyes as well. He leaned down and put his forehead against your own, making you close your eyes with a stuttered breath.
His eyebrows furrowed as he held you tight, a hand brushing your arm and Koda's. "We're doing this together, okay?"
You nodded your head, softly. "Okay."
"I'll take tomorrow off." You opened your eyes to look up at him, surprised. "Lets spend sometime with him together. I can pull some strings and..." Izuku hesitated, "If you agree, I can book out the aquarium tomorrow. We can take out all the boys and just focus on Koda. I think it would mean a lot to him."
"But... but what about work?" You asked him softly. "Didn't the minister ask you to-"
He shook his head. "It isn't urgent. It's just feedback on an diplomatic meeting, nothing more. Besides, nothing matters more than you and the boys." You gave him a grateful smile as that. Izuku smiled, before looking down at your youngest boy. He brushed his hand through Koda's soft green hair. "You know despite everything..." You saw him smile as he looked down at his son, a sort of pride that you always saw whenever he held his sons for the first time. "I don't regret a thing."
You paused, turning to look at Koda who slept in your arms. You smiled gently. "Yah. Not a thing."
-Glitch1d
#izuku x reader#izuku midoriya x reader#dilf midoriya#dilf izuku midoriya x reader#dilf izuku x reader#deku x reader#midoriya x reader#dilf izuku midoriya#midoriya family shenanigan#midoriya family shenanigans#midoriya family shenanigans + kane
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daniel ricc getting super jealous of how close you are with lando norris. make it angst if i squint, cute and fluffy, overproetctive honey badger
i would choose you (dr3)
(sorry for being inactive </3 :( )
Daniel Ricciardo couldn’t shake the growing unease that gnawed at him whenever he saw Y/N and Lando together. It started with small things. Like the morning when he walked into the hospitality area and saw Lando handing Y/N her favorite coffee. The smile she gave him was warm, appreciative. Daniel's stomach twisted slightly, but he kept quiet, forcing a smile.
Then there were the times during race weekends when he found them laughing together while watching a show on Lando's phone. Their heads would be close, shoulders touching as they shared earbuds. Daniel stood in the doorway, unnoticed, feeling like an outsider in their little world.
The final straw came one evening when they were all hanging out in the paddock lounge. Y/N and Lando were bantering back and forth, their inside jokes flying over Daniel’s head. Lando said something that made Y/N burst into laughter, her eyes crinkling with joy. Daniel’s heart ached seeing her so happy, yet he couldn’t help but feel a stab of jealousy.
Each time, Daniel bit his tongue, telling himself it was nothing. But the jealousy kept building, simmering just beneath the surface, waiting for a moment to spill over.
Danny stood in the paddock, his eyes following Y/N and Lando as they chatted animatedly by the McLaren garage. A pang of jealousy twisted in his chest. He knew Lando was just a friend, but seeing them so close made him uneasy. He clenched his fists, taking a deep breath, trying to shake off the feeling.
Y/N glanced over, catching Daniel's eye. She waved and smiled, her face lighting up. Daniel forced a smile back, but it didn’t reach his eyes.
After a while, Y/N made her way over to Daniel, still smiling. “Hey, babe. You okay?” she asked, concern lacing her voice.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Daniel replied, trying to sound nonchalant. But his voice betrayed him, tinged with a hint of frustration.
Y/N raised an eyebrow, sensing something was off. “Really? Because you don’t seem fine.”
Daniel sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It’s just…you and Lando. You guys are really close.”
Y/N's eyes softened. “He’s just a friend, Daniel. You know that.”
“I know,” Daniel admitted, looking down. “I just… I get jealous. I can’t help it.”
Y/N chuckled softly, stepping closer to him. “You have nothing to worry about. I love you, silly.”
Before she could say anything more, Daniel pulled her into a tight embrace. His arms wrapped around her protectively, holding her close. Y/N laughed, her voice muffled against his chest.
“You’re so silly, Dan. I love you and only you,” she said, her words warm and reassuring.
Daniel tightened his hold, burying his face in her hair. “I just don’t want to lose you,” he murmured.
“You won’t,” Y/N said firmly, pulling back slightly to look into his eyes. “I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”
Daniel smiled, feeling the weight of his jealousy lift. “I’m sorry for being so overprotective.”
“It’s okay,” Y/N said, kissing his cheek. “Just remember, you’re the one I love.”
Daniel hugged her again, a sense of calm washing over him. “I love you too, Y/N. More than anything.”
They stood there for a while, wrapped in each other’s arms, the world around them fading away. In that moment, Daniel knew that as long as they had each other, everything would be okay.
After their conversation in the paddock, Y/N and Daniel walked back to his hotel room hand in hand. The tension had lifted slightly, but Daniel still felt a residual unease within his heart. Once inside, Y/N turned to him, her eyes filled with concern and love.
“Dan, come sit with me,” she said softly, leading him to the couch.
Daniel sat down, his shoulders slumped. Y/N took his hands in hers, her touch gentle and comforting.
“I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel insecure,” she began, her voice sincere. “I never meant to. You mean the world to me.”
Daniel looked into her eyes, his expression softening. “I know, Y/N. It’s just…seeing you with Lando, so happy, it made me feel like maybe I wasn’t enough.”
Y/N shook her head, squeezing his hands. “You’re more than enough, Daniel. Lando is a good friend, but you’re my love. My partner.”
Daniel’s eyes glistened with emotion. “I love you so much. I just don’t want to lose you. Ever.”
“You won’t lose me,” Y/N said firmly. She leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “You have my heart, Dan. Always.”
Daniel smiled, the tension in his body slowly melting away. “I’m sorry for being so jealous. I trust you, I really do. It’s just hard sometimes.”
“I understand,” Y/N said, brushing a hand through his hair. “But you need to know that you’re the one I want to be with. You make me happier than anyone else ever could.”
Daniel’s heart swelled with love. “I feel the same way about you.”
Y/N moved closer, wrapping her arms around him in a warm embrace. “Let me show you just how much you mean to me.”
She peppered his face with kisses, her laughter light and contagious. Daniel chuckled, feeling a warmth spread through him. Y/N’s affection was like a balm, soothing his insecurities.
“I love you,” she murmured between kisses. “I love your smile, your laugh, your kindness. Everything about you.”
Daniel closed his eyes, savoring the feeling of her lips on his skin. “I love you too, Y/N. More than words can say.”
Y/N pulled back slightly, looking into his eyes. “Promise me something, Dan?”
“Anything,” he replied without hesitation.
“Promise me you’ll talk to me whenever you feel this way. I don’t want you to bottle it up. We’re a team, and we can handle anything together.”
Daniel nodded, a newfound resolve in his eyes. “I promise. I’ll talk to you. I don’t want to lose what we have.”
Y/N smiled, her eyes shining with love. “Good. Because what we have is special, and I’m not letting you go.”
They shared another kiss, this one deeper and more passionate. As they held each other, Daniel felt a sense of peace. He knew there would be challenges, but with Y/N by his side, he was ready to face anything.
“I love you, Y/N,” he whispered, holding her close.
“I love you too, Daniel. Forever and always.”
#daniel riccardo imagine#daniel ricciardo x reader#daniel ricciardo#dr3#dr3 x reader#dr3 imagine#f1 edit#formula 1#f1 imagine#formula one#red bull racing#y/n#mcalren#redbull#fia#ferrari#romance#requests#ava speaks#daniel riccardo x reader#lando norris#lando norris x female reader#lando norris x you#lando norris x y/n#lando norris x reader#ln4#ln4 x y/n#ln4 x reader#ln4 x you#ln4 x female reader
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house on the cape.
based on last friday’s video bc im obsessed with it. (events that happened in the vlog may not be in order just so the story flows how i want, also might add or get rid of some things for that same reason ofc). definitely gonna be multiple parts if yall like it so please let me know!!
summary: when the triplets come back home from la, they reunite with their favorite summer tradition, staying in the house on the cape. amidst all of the familiar laughter, and reminiscing on old memories, y/n can’t ignore the feeling stirring in her heart. something that went deeper than friendship. as she grapples with the fact that her feelings for her lifelong best friend, matt, are more than what’s just at the surface, she must learn to navigate and balance the unspoken feelings, and the gut wrenching fear of risking it all.
a/n: sorry guys but i think im scrapping all my old fics. i just have lost interest in them and i dont want to give yall something that i just half assed yk. i just need something new 😖🙏 don’t hate me pls. also i didn’t proof read and i never do so hopefully this all makes sense LMAO
……………………..
“BOYS TRIP!” chris shouts through the house.
the triplets are back in boston from being in la. i’d be lying if i said that i didn’t wish that these visits would last forever. being across the country from my best friends sucked.
“oh yeah , and you’ll be there too. you’re one of the boys.” chris points at me, smiling before loading the car with our bags.
“chris please never say that again.” i cringe, but fail to keep in my laughter.
“i agree. that was disgusting.” nick chimes in.
“just wanted to make sure you know you’re included.” chris throws his hands up in defense.
“thanks.” i smile and shake my head before getting in the car.
we were staying at their house in cape cod, something all of us looked forward to each summer growing up.
we arrive at nate’s house to pick him up. after the group effort of showering him in compliments for his new hair cut, we get back in the car.
sandwiched between nick and nathan, i check the time on my phone. nick grabs my wrist and moves it out of the way to give himself a better view of my lock screen.
“that is such a cute picture.” he says admiringly. it was a picture of matt and i. the picture was taken from behind while matt gave a piggy back ride back to the car because my feet hurt from wearing heels to madison’s concert.
“you took it.” i laugh.
“i know. i really out did myself huh.” he hypes himself up. i smile and roll my eyes.
once we get to the cape house, we unload the car. all of our bags scattered haphazardly throughout our respective rooms. the same rooms each of us have stayed in for years. nate with chris, nick with matt, and me, having been the only girl, with my own room.
“let’s go to the beach!” nate walks out into the kitchen, clapping his hands together.
…
the beach was just within walking distance. matt and i fell behind the rest of the group.
“i’m so glad you’re back.” i tell him.
“me too. i missed you.” he replies.
“i missed you too.” i admit. “a lot.” i look up and meet his eyes. we just stare at each other for a second. we didn’t really need to say anything. it was almost just a mutual understanding that each other were our favorite person.
if only he knew the extent.
the only person i’ve confided in about my feelings for matt was nate. which was precisely why he kept shooting me knowing glances anytime matt and interacted. nate swore that he knew i was in love with matt for years, before i even knew myself.
i can’t exactly pinpoint when i fell in love with my best friend, but i do remember when i realized.
flashback
matt and i sit together in the hammock string between two large oak trees in the backyard of the cape house. the gentle breeze swaying us back and forth softly. the sun was going down just to the right of us. beautiful pink and orange hues paint the sky.
“i could stay right here forever.” matt breaks the silence that had fallen between us.
“me too.” i reply softly.
“oh hey i have something for you” he digs his hand around in his pocket and pulls out a baby pink seashell. he hands it it me.
“i’ve never seen a pink one like that before.” he tells me as i admire the gift.
“me either. i love it. thanks matt.” i smile sweetly at him.
“of course.” he returns the smile.
i feel the heartbeat in my chest racing and my cheeks heating up. the feeling i had been carrying around with me for quite some time became abundantly clear.
i was in love with my best friend.
when i got home that night, i tied a string around the shell, and wore it as a necklace. and i haven’t taken it off since.
end of flashback
that was back when we were 16. 4 whole years i’ve gone hiding my biggest secret from the one person i told everything to.
our gaze was interrupted by chris. “jesus, yall are some slow pokes” he hollers back at us.
we both laugh and pick up out pace.
soon we arrive at the beach. i’ve always loved the beach. it truly is my happy place.
especially when i’m with matt.
nick snaps pictures here and there.
“oh my gosh matt look! this is just like your tattoo!” i hold out a shell to him.
“oh shit you’re right.” he holds out his arm, revealing his tattoo.
“that’s sick.” chris admires the similarity while nick takes a picture.
…
later that night, we all sit in the living room debating on what movie to watch.
“chris im not watching planet of the apes again. we’ve watched it like 9 times already.” nick argues, shutting down chris’s pleads.
“how about grown ups?” matt suggests.
“yes i love that movie.” nate agrees.
“that’s fine with me.” nick shrugs and starts typing it in.
“is that good with you?” matt leans down to where i was sitting in front of him, his voice soft and genuine.
“yeah that’s good with me.” i tell him.
he smiles and pats the spot on the couch next to him, gesturing me to come sit up there with him. i stand up from my spot on the floor and sit down next to him. he drapes a blanket over the both of us.
about an hour or so into the movie, my eyes get heavy. i lean my head on matt’s shoulder, to which he responds with wrapping his arm around me. this was nothing out of the ordinary. there’s pictures going back to when we were in preschool of the two of us practically fused together passed out on the living room floor.
suddenly, a gentle shake of my shoulders woke me up from a sleep i hadn’t even known i fell into. my eyes flutter, slowly regaining focus. when they do, i’m met with matt’s gentle blue eyes.
“hey, you wanna go lay down in your bed? i don’t want your neck to be sore.” he asks, genuinely concerned for my comfort.
i look around, everyone else appeared to have gone into their rooms.
“yeah i probably should.” i say through a yawn.
matt grabs my hand and helps me stand up from the couch. we walk down the hallway. my room came before his and nicks.
“goodnight matt.” i say, slowly turning the doorknob.
“goodnight y/n. see ya in the morning.”
i toss and turn in bed, unable to fall asleep. i stand up from bed, and leave my room. slowly making my way to the kitchen to get a drink, careful to not wake anyone up.
i open the fridge and grab a water. before i can take a sip, i hear a familiar voice behind me.
“can’t sleep?” the sudden breach of silence made me jump a little. i turn around and see matt. he was leaned up against the door frame. his sweatpants falling dangerously low on his figure, his arm under his shirt itching his shoulder, exposing his midriff.
“nope. you?” i set my water down on the counter.
“hm mm” he replies.
we stand in silence for a few moments before matt breaks the silence again.
“wanna go to the beach?”
….
a/n: PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE LMK IF YALL LIKE THIS. SUGGESTIONS ALWAYS WELCOME AND MY INBOX IS ALWAYS OPEN 🙏 i’m using my old taglist, so lmk if you want taken off or added to it!
taglist: @honestlybabymiracle @pepsiimaxx @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattestrella @luvmxtt @rac00ns-are-c00l4
#nick sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo#chris sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo#matt sturniolo x reader#nick sturniolo#sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#christopher sturniolo#sturniolo triplets x reader#chrissturnioloxreader#nathan doe#matthew sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#nate doe#space camp wellness#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo x reader
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Time Of Our Lives || Part 10
Part 10:
Art wanted to die.
There’s no other way to describe what he had been feeling for the last three days. He hadn’t seen Liana anywhere. Not in the cafeteria, not outside her lectures, not outside the dorms.
He considered entering her room with the key he had, but he knew she would demand it back, and he clung to that key like it was his lifeline. He knew it was his last access to her life at the moment.
Art knew everything he said was a mistake from the second he said those things. To be honest, Art doesn’t remember what he said exactly. He just knows that Liana’s expression changed in minutes from humiliated, to sad, to disgusted, to angry. He knows he made her cry. He made her sob. Liana. The same Liana who, when she entered his room, he asked if she had been crying. When she left his room, he was the reason she cried.
He didn’t know how to come back from this.
He didn’t know what to do or who to call or how to start breathing regularly again.
“You’re playing like shit,” he heard Tashi’s voice from afar and lifted his head.
“Bad day,” he mumbled and forced a smile.
“A bad day isn’t four balls in a row hitting the net. What happened?” she approached him, examining him.
“Nothing, Tash,” he sighed, “Can’t I have a bad day with a few balls not making it over the net?” he rolled his eyes.
He said something to Liana about Tashi. And now, looking at her, trying to remember what he said; It couldn’t be anything good. It must have been something awful because the speed at which she distanced herself from him and the look she had would be etched in his mind forever.
Why doesn’t he remember what he said? How is she supposed to believe he’s sorry if he doesn’t remember what he said?
“Do you want to play a set?” she asked, and usually, he would jump at the chance to play with Tashi, but it was already the time Liana was supposed to go to her lecture, and maybe today she would leave her room.
“No, I think I’m done for today. It can't get any better from here. I need to shower. Good to see you.” He gave her a light touch on the shoulder and headed to the locker rooms.
Liana would've definitely noticed that his smile was fake.
He stood in front of her room as the door opened.
If he thought he looked awful, Liana looked devastating. She looked like she hadn't slept for a month, like she had cried half her life. Her face was swollen, her eyes were red, and dark circles surrounded them.
Her mouth was half open as she looked at him.
Both of them tensed, standing in place, unable to speak.
“Li…” he started, seeing her begin to breathe heavily in response.
“Can we tal-” he needs to make it right. He knows he can make her feel better if she lets him.
“You have some nerve,” she mumbled, turning to lock the door, but he knew it was an excuse not to look at him. He knew if he could make her look at him long enough, he could get her to talk to him. He could manage to apologize.
“Liana, please.” His voice was weak, begging for attention.
She started walking quickly, and he followed her, keeping pace.
“I need us to talk, Liana. Please. It’s me. Give me five minutes. Li-” he spoke, and she stopped abruptly.
“Did I stutter when I said you’re the worst person I know, and I never want to see you again?” she asked, her eyes filling with tears that would fall if she just blinked. He knew it was from anger and frustration.
Art closed his eyes and swallowed, taking a breath. Her words cut him like a knife.
“I know-” he started again.
“Arthur,” she paused for a moment, studying him.
He hoped she saw the immense suffering he was in. How sorry he was. That he didn’t mean it. That he needed her in his life. That he might lose himself entirely if she wasn’t a part of him.
“Right now, I’m in mourning. As far as I’m concerned, I’m sitting Shiva for you because you’re dead.” She looked at him, still not blinking, not allowing herself to be vulnerable in front of him again.
“Do you want me to beg? I can beg.” His voice was weak again. He felt the tightness that comes before tears start to flow.
“Unlike someone I know, I don’t get off on humiliating others. Enjoy your life, Art. I hope you get everything you want as long as I’m not part of it.” She concluded the conversation and walked away.
He didn’t continue following her, feeling all his internal organs shrink at the sight of her moving away.
And maybe she’s right;
Maybe he’s really already dead, and this is hell.
The month since the phone call with Liana passed slowly for Patrick.
He wasn’t functioning properly.
There was a tournament he only made it through two rounds of, and Liana wasn’t answering his calls. For his part, he wasn’t answering Art’s calls. Not that Art called much. About three times, then he probably got the hint.
Patrick had nothing to say to him.
Liana called that night and sounded in the worst state he had ever heard her. Worse than that time she broke her arm in the summer at age 15 when they were riding bikes. And that says a lot because her pain threshold is quite high, and if Art managed to make her react like that, he must have done something terrible.
Liana didn’t tell him in that call what Art did, and when Patrick asked if she wanted him to come to her (he really meant dropping everything and going to Stanford), she said she’d rather he didn’t.
So, a month later, with a free weekend, Patrick found himself wandering around Stanford with a bag containing a racket and some clothes.
'If you arrive early, ask Art for the key he has; maybe he’ll give it to you,' she texted him, and he could almost hear her voice through the screen. Broken. Art Donaldson, his best friend, broke her.
He wasn’t sure he could look him in the eyes again.
“What are you doing here?” Tashi’s voice sounded from behind him. They hadn’t talked since the fight in her room a few months ago.
“Looking for Art, actually…” he mumbled, lowering his gaze to her knee, “Sorry about the injury.” He didn’t know what to say, and she just shrugged.
She looked small and almost fragile.
Something in her gaze was shattered.
“Yeah, bad move.” She swallowed. Tried to be strong about it. The truth is, he read about it in a sports magazine and wanted to call but didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know how to help from afar, and he didn’t know if Tashi wanted his help.
“What do the doctors say?” he asked as she sat on the bench in the stands, looking at him and expecting him to do the same.
“That time will tell? And we need to see how the physiotherapy goes.” She smiled, but her smile was fake; he saw the sadness in her eyes. She wasn’t trying to hide it much.
“I’m sorry, Tash.” Patrick sighed. He really didn’t know how to help.
“Art was amazing through all of this. He really helped me.” She examined Patrick and his reaction.
“I’m glad he was here.” He said sincerely. He knew that when Art wanted to dedicate himself to someone, he did it in the best possible way.
“I’m sorry for how it ended between us, you know that, right?” he asked after a few seconds of silence.
“Yeah, Patrick, I know.” She almost rolled her eyes. “Are you going to fix what he broke?” she asked, and he looked at her with a raised eyebrow.
“There’s a shift in his behavior. I don’t know what happened, but something in him changed. He doesn’t talk about you or Liana anymore. It’s a bit weird considering how much time he used to dedicate to both of you.” She said, as if reading his confusion.
“I don’t know if it’s possible to fix what he did, Tash.” He sighed.
“Time will tell?” she asked, repeating what her physiotherapist said, and they both knew it probably wasn’t true.
Art waved hesitantly from afar, causing Patrick to nod and get up.
“I’m sorry, Tashi. Really. You can call me if you need anything, you know that, right?” he asked.
“I won’t do that.” She rolled her eyes, “But thanks,” she concluded the conversation for him.
“Hey.” Art said and quickly ran a hand over his neck.
“What’s up?” Patrick asked relatively coldly.
They hadn’t talked for a month, the longest they hadn’t spoken since they were 12. For a moment, it felt like talking to a stranger.
“Why are you here?” Art asked, skipping the small talk and looking at him with a scrutinizing gaze. Trying to figure out if this was a friendly visit or if he needed to prepare for a battle he didn’t get an advance invitation to.
“I don’t know how to say this, Art,” Patrick mumbled.
“Then don’t say it, Patrick,” Art rolled his eyes in response. He felt his heart racing.
He realized he was about to lose Patrick.
“Art, come on,”
“This is between me and her, Patrick. It doesn’t have to be between us too.” Art said, almost begging.
“I need the key to Liana’s room.” Patrick sighed quietly.
“Fuck off.” Art started to walk away, showing him a middle finger and laughing a laugh that sounded almost deranged. “Tell Liana if she wants the key her father gave me, all she has to do is come to me and ask.” With that, he left the court, leaving Patrick alone. Well, with Tashi as an audience in the stands.
"So, I guess the key thing didn't work out?" Patrick was sitting in the hallway across from Liana's room, absorbed in his phone, when he heard her voice. Almost amused. Almost like he remembered her.
He stood up quickly, scrutinizing her, wanting to see every part of the girl he remembered.
To see that she was whole. To see that she wasn't broken.
"I'm fine, Patrick. You can hug me," she rolled her eyes, and he did just that. He hugged her and refused to let go, closing his eyes and inhaling her intoxicating scent. He hadn't realized how much he missed her in the month she barely communicated with him. He didn't understand how much he worried about her until he laid eyes on her.
"Do you want to come in, or are we going to stand like weirdos in the hallway a bit longer?" she asked.
"You're mean," he responded and pulled away from her. Not too much. Just enough so they could enter, and he could hug her again.
"Hey," he said once they were inside and he pulled away from her for the second time.
He examined her again.
She looked tired. Not different from how she looked the last time he saw her. But that time, she had a spark. That time, Art's hand was on her thigh in front of him. That time, he played a part in breaking her.
She would never know, but Patrick did it. Patrick caused Art to behave like a wounded animal. Patrick knew exactly what he was doing. He threw him a bone, and Art couldn't resist; he had to ruin everything.
"We have to go to his game tomorrow," she said after they sat quietly on her bed for a few minutes.
"What?" he asked, looking at her.
"His parents will be there. They know there was something between us, but they don't know we're not talking. And it's already too many changes with me leaving and all. I have to be there, and now that you're here, you have to come with me." She smiled at him. He knew it wasn't a genuine smile. He knew if he didn't go with her, she'd feel even more fragile.
Patrick knew Art.
Patrick knew Art even better than Liana.
He knew Art lived for opportunities like the one he'd have tomorrow. Liana had to come to his game, sit with his parents, be disciplined, and meet the standards their families held for her.
Art was born to exploit opportunities like these.
"Okay. We'll go, and at the end of his game, we'll come up with an excuse. Something about you having an exam, and we have to leave." His arm was around her as she leaned on his shoulder.
"What did he say when you asked him for the key?" Liana asked.
"Amanda," Patrick sighed.
"Just tell me."
"That if you want it, you should ask him yourself," he told the truth and felt her nod. "Do you want that key so badly?" he asked, looking at her again.
"No. He can choke on it for all I care," she shrugged, but the smile she gave him was fake.
"Can I tell you something without you thinking I'm crazy and a stalker?" Patrick began the conversation for which he came. He moved away from her a bit, sitting across from her. He needed to see every expression. Every facial change. He needed to understand if she was telling him the truth.
"You're scaring me, Patrick Zwieg. Come on, say what you have to say. Did you put a camera in the Stanford bathrooms?" she joked, making him give her a light slap on the shoulder.
"Be serious," he commanded, and she nodded in response, removing any hint of humor from her face.
"My parents changed their minds about tennis," he said, and her eyes widened.
"Really?" she asked, her smile starting to widen. She was happy for him. She knew that to succeed, he needed their support.
"They gave me a five-year plan. They said I need to take some business courses twice a week. The rest of the days, they’ll fund an apartment, a coach, and tournaments," he continued explaining to her.
"Patrick, that's wonderful. That's great news. I'm so happy for you." She was ecstatic. He saw it on her. It was a joy that couldn't be faked. The kind that made him smile too.
"Now for the creepy part. Don't hate me, okay, Li? Because I see how you get when you hate Art, and I don't want to be that person-" he started rambling.
"You would never treat me the way Art treated me," she interrupted him. He saw her jaw tighten. Realizing that was a bad example.
"They know someone who knows Kirk Morcich, and he saw videos of me and said I have potential..." He saw she was losing him, not understanding what he was talking about and why he was rambling incoherently, "It's in London. I'll be in London." He concluded. Watching her expression.
You can say many things about Liana, but she doesn't know how to hide what she feels.
Her emotions always go a step ahead of her. She wears them on her face like a parade of shame. Blushing too easily, shaking when angry, crying immediately when hurt. She can't lie about feelings. Either she feels them, or they're not there.
"Are you serious?" she asked, her eyes starting to sparkle. She wouldn't be alone. Patrick would be with her. So many possibilities.
"Tell me it's a good thing and you don't hate me," he said, completely nervous.
"Pat, this is the best news I've heard in the past month. I could kiss you," she said and jumped on him in a hug. For the first time in a month, Liana was happy.
Art’s parents recognized them in the middle of their conversation with, well, Art.
"Liana, you even look more grown-up. I can't believe you're leaving us like this," Christine, his mother, pulled her into a hug without a second thought.
"Mom, let her breathe..." Art said.
There was no visible discomfort on him. He was acting as usual.
"How are you, sweetheart? Are you eating properly? You look thinner!" she examined her from all angles. "Are you taking care of her?" she turned to her son, who swallowed nervously, unsure how to approach the situation.
"Everything's great, Christine. I'm eating all the time," she smiled.
Both Art and Patrick knew it was a fake smile. A smile that looked like she had practiced it in front of a mirror. One that revealed teeth but didn't characterize her.
"Unfortunately, we probably won't be able to stay for the game. I just wanted to say hello and wish you good luck," Liana didn't look at Art at all, just glanced at him and saw his fingers moving uncontrollably.
"Why, honey? We wanted you both to have dinner with us afterward. To catch up. I'll tell you about all the places in London where you can go and feel surrounded by Americans, so you won't be alone for a moment," his mother was lovely.
She really loved Liana as if she were her daughter. It warmed Liana's heart and at the same time made her so angry. How could Art take and destroy such a relationship for a momentary whim?
"I already told Art earlier that I have some project due tomorrow, and Patrick said that if he's already here, he could help me. I hope that's okay." She still didn't look at him.
Patrick, on the other hand, looked at him.
Art changed colors.
He didn't know how to handle the current situation. Throughout it, Liana was better than him at maneuvering the situation.
"And besides, I won't feel alone in London. Patrick will be with me." This time she looked directly at Art, and her smile was genuine. It was unmistakable.
"Really? How did that happen?" Art's father, Tim, intervened in the conversation.
"Long story, something about a coach whose name I can't remember, but it's so great that everything worked out like this, and I won't have to start from scratch." She spoke quickly, lowering her gaze from Art just to give her attention to his mother, who nodded with a smile of her own, not understanding everything happening beneath the surface in this conversation.
"It's a shame you can't stay for the game; after all, you're his lucky charm," she said after a few more exchanged words.
"Maybe it's time to find a new lucky charm," Liana replied, and everyone laughed. Some genuine, some fake.
Patrick, at that moment, observed Art, whose gaze was already fixed on him and didn’t let go for a second.
Art didn’t laugh.
Hello there!!!
How are we doing? Patrick is really stepping up his game for our girl!
As usual, I'd like to hear any thouths you have. I really love talking to you and getting to know what you want for the story.
you can always ask to be part of the taglist :)
taglist:
@fangirl-kimora @serenadingtigers @imbabycowboy @do-it-for-kicks @izzywags478 @4deline08 @igotmajordaddyissues @jackierose902109 @ganana @yoitsme-04 @swetearss
#art donaldson x reader#patrick zweig x reader#art donaldson#patrick zweig#challengers fic#challengers#art donaldson smut#tashi duncan#patrick zweig smut
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Omg I love Boys Bathroom!! Idk if you're doing a pt 2 but if you need ideas, how about sumn based on Jacqueline and Hamilton's relationship from the 2000s tv series Young Americans? (if you haven't seen that show, it's fine. I barely remember it, myself, other than the fact that Ian somerhalder has never not been fine).
Where rafe and reader continue to sneak around, and it gets to the point that people start to suspect them, not because of her identity, but because they're a little too close to be just dormmates but no one says anything as they're scared of what rafe might do 👊 if they confront him for something 'he isn't ready to come out with yet' if you catch my drift, lol and just like the scene in She's The Man (I love that you used this movie for inspo, that movie was my childhood), when it comes time to do the kissing booth, and all of rafe's friends line up at the chance to kiss y/n, that he finally steps in and sets them straight about who she is and what she is to him <3 I'd add more but this shit is long enough as it is.
If you write this, pls tag me: @ineedtosusoutmyreadinglist
A/N: I giggle so hard at the thought of Rafe's face finding out people think he's seeing her brother.
Cat's Out of The Bag
Warnings: 18+, smut, fingering, oral (m receiving), squirting (Rafe's can't get enough), unprotected sex(wrap it up), (let me know if I missed anything)
Wc:2.9K
Since that night in the bathroom it was a free for all on fucking. With your dorms right next to each other it was easy to sneak in and out. Rafe had gone back to his room that night thinking what the fuck did he just get into. There are two things he knows for certain. One being that you were one of the best lays not just because he’s been pussy deprived. Two he doesn’t know what he will do after this week is up.
The day after was a little awkward. You didn’t know if he regretted it, he may have suggested doing it again but that doesn’t mean he would. It wouldn’t be the first time a guy said something to you for them to take it all back. The only indication that he meant it was in biology. He was already there when you entered the classroom. He looked really good and the school polo fits him snuggly.
He smirks at you as you sit down, pulling your chair a bit closer to him. It’s a little jawing seeing you dressed as a guy after last night. Even more jawing that he still feels attracted to you. Not because you look hot as a guy but because he knows it’s you under there. “Hey.” You whisper to him. “Hey.” His fingers brush against your thigh.
The two of you are trying to keep cool when really you just want to skip class and sneak off. The class goes by, small smiles being shared. Even dared to touch the other while no one was looking. Brushing your hands together on the desk or knees bumping under the table. He just wanted to be closer to you, taking whatever he will get.
He walked you to your other classes in the disguise of just talking to a friend. A friend that stands too close so your hands can accidentally brush against each other with each step. A friend that later sneaks his way into your room when you think it’s late enough for people to be asleep. Pushing you in the room as soon as the door opened a crack.
He’s kissing you, kicking the door with his foot. “You know how bad I wanted to kiss you today? Almost lost my cool.” His words melt into your throat, his lips going to suck on the skin. “Can’t leave any marks.” You warn. “Been wanting you too.” Your hands pull at his shirt, yanking it over his head. Sinking to your knees, you spread kisses down from his chest to his stomach. Nipping at the skin right above his sweats.
You look up at him, palming him through the fabric. “Can I show you how bad I wanted this?” The way your eyes are looking at him, he would agree to anything. Rafe groans when you give him a little squeeze. Reminding him that you are still there willing to please him. He made you feel amazing last night and you want to do the same. Nodding his head, his hand makes a ponytail with your hair. “Go for it baby.”
Without another word his pants and boxers are on the floor. Discarded to find later on when he’s scrambling to rush out early in the morning. But for now he’s only worried about the feeling of your mouth wrapped around him. The way that you hollow your cheeks as you bob your head up and down, focusing on his tip. His back hits the door helping him stay upright as his knees want to give out.
Your mouth feels like heaven. He could die at this exact moment and die a happy man. The hand holding your hair starts to help guide your movements. Giving you tugs when the pleasure is too much. Your hand that isn’t assisting your mouth slides its way into your sleep shorts. Massaging your clit and teasing your entrance with a finger. “Are you touching yourself?” His voice is shaky, getting dangerously close to cumming in your mouth.
He takes a deep breath when you disconnect, a pop sounds in the room. “Mhmm. Felt too good.” You go in again to suck it back in your mouth. He hates that he has to stop you from continuing. Rafe would love for nothing more than to be in your mouth, watching as you gag over it. Or for you to sit on his face as he eats the shit out of you. The last thought is tucked away for later use.
“Get on the bed. Ass up and you chest to the sheets.” His words emphasized with a light tap to your face. You do as he says, stripping your clothes as you walk across the room. Rafe kicks off the pants from his ankles, shirt being tossed along with it. He likes seeing you like this. Willing to do anything just to scratch the itch you can’t sedate yourself. It’s the same way you looked last night.
You wiggle your ass when you feel the bed dip, his hands finding your ass. He wants to slap it, leave it with red hand marks. Make it so you can’t sit down in your classes tomorrow. Ironically enough you are thinking the same thing. Wanting him to mark you in every way that he can. Deep down hoping he wouldn’t care what people will hear and just take you the way he wants. The rational part knows he won’t and shouldn’t but is still disappointed.
“Fuck just look at you.” His large hands are playing with your ass cheeks like their dough. Spreading them he sees your entrance fluttering, begging to be filled like a good girl. A glob of spit leaves his lips, falling right above your entrance to slide down. You moan as his thumb circles it around, making you nice and wet. The digit slips in and out, giving you just barely enough to feel full.
“Gonna be a good girl and be quiet for me.” He kisses down your spine to get to your ear. “I think you can do it. Wouldn’t want everyone in the hall to know how big of a whore you are.” An involuntary moan slips out. His thumb was replaced with his middle and ring finger. “Knew you would like being called that. Can feel how much your pretty pussy likes it.” Rafe’s fingers are stretching you out nicely.
Fingers curling to stimulate your g-spot. The feeling from yesterday starts to creep up, making it seem like you are going to pee. “Rafe I.” You are trying to warn him but the words can’t come out. They don’t need to because he already knows. Can see it written on your face. Lips parted, eyes pinched shut, and your face digging into the sheets. That’s what he wants for you to lose control to the point you drench everything.
“It’s okay baby. Let it go.” With the confirmation you do. The gushing noise filling your ears, the sheets underneath you getting wet. In hindsight he knew he should have put something down, he just didn’t care. He kinda wanted you to be left with the reminder of what he can do to your body. Your hands are gripping the sheets for dear life. All of your energy being taken out of you.
“Never going to get tired of making you do that.” He gives your left ass cheek a kiss, biting into the flesh. A shriek tears it away from your throat. “Sorry, I can't mark your neck so gotta mark something.” “It’s okay.” Your voice is soft, the post haze of your orgasim still has you under a spell.
Rafe chuckles as you push yourself back on him. Getting the hint that you want him inside, he lines himself up. “Wait, should I use a condom?” He didn’t think about that yesterday but he sure is today. You groan, taking him in your hands and pushing back again. You both moan as he fills you. “Birth Control just pull out.” He doesn’t need to be told twice.
Fleshing pounding into flesh can be heard from the hall, if anyone walked by you would be caught. It probably wouldn’t even matter at this point. Rafe’s hands can’t stay still, having to touch every inch of your skin. You were a mess, having to bite down into your pillow to swallow every moan that leaves your lips.
In this position he feels bigger than he did before. Hitting a place deep inside you, the pain only makes the experience better. He flipped you around, wanting to see your face again. You make a face when you feel the wet spot on the bed, disgusted to be laying in it. The displeasure fading once he was in you again.
The weight of him was intoxicating. Holding you in place as his hips ram into yours. He brings a hand down to play with you, trying to get you there before him. “Come on, you can do it. I know you want to cum again.” He places kisses on your neck, your fingers intertwining with his hair and pulling. Now that you fulfilled that desire you can say you want to do it again.
With a couple of more thrusts you cum, trembling as he holds you. Only pulling out when he was toeing on the line of cumming inside you. He jerks himself off, rubbing his head on your lips, rutting into your clit. He paints your pussy, making a mess of your bottom half. Out of breath you both lay there. “We should probably clean this bed.” Looking down he can see the huge wet spot you left behind, his cum adding to the mix as it drips down.
“I’ll put them in the wash. You can go sleep in my room.”
The following few days were the same. You would wake up, get dressed as a man and go to classes. Flirt with Rafe any chance you're alone or no one's watching. Pulling each other into empty classes or janitors closets to makeout. The weirdness of kissing someone who looks like a guy left Rafe pretty soon. Only focusing on the fact that the person beneath that was you.
On the last day you two skipped your classes, pretending to be too sick for them. It was wrapped in sheets. Sweating out any toxins from the vigorous exercise. That night he went with you to meet up with Max. Telling your brother everything he was kinda confused at first. He thought Rafe had a thing for you dressed as a man and decided fuck it when he found out you were a girl. But with the reluctant sharing of information he soon realized that was not the case.
The new plan the three of you created was simple. You and Rafe would still see each other and Max will butter up your parents to be nicer to you. It was the least he could do for all this trouble, which he reminded you didn’t seem as bad considering the facts. It was going well too. The boys get the weekends free, able to go out of campus and hang out. You would go visit on the weekends and hang out with them. Then go back to Rafe’s dorm at the end of the night, staying the weekend.
Max was sick of hearing the two of you from the thin wall shared between the two boys. But he was more sick of the nagging questions everyone asked. He will be walking around campus and people would just stop him to talk. “Hey man. How’s Rafe?” He looked at the guy like he was dumb. “Um, good? We watched the game last night.” The other guy would just smirk and nod. “Right the game. Good for you two.” Max would be confused as the guy walks off. Thinking what the fuck is that guy even on.
It was worse when it was girls that would talk to him. He only had access to them on the weekends and they never seemed interested. “Where’s Rafe today?” A girl would ask. “Oh he’s out with my sister right now.” He would mentally check if he looked good, thinking this might be the time a girl gives in. “That’s so sweet how close they are together. I wish my boyfriend was close to my family.” Either Max doesn’t pay attention or he really is that stupid because he was confused why you would want that.
Yeah your partner should be close with your family but Rafe is literally fucking his sister, not just having lunch. “Yeah it’s nice seeing them like that.” He would then sit there as the girl talked about her boyfriend, clothes, girl drama, you name it. Max would make the way to his dorm that night stopping at his door when he saw the two of you down the hall. “Hey Cameron.” The two of you greet him. “Anyone say anything weird to you?”
Rafe just shook his head. “Man, everyone here is weird. I don’t pay attention to what they say.” With that you two would be in his room, locked away from the rest of the world. Max just shrugs thinking nothing more of it. That was until the day of the carnival.
Rafe had been defensive when he heard that you would be working the ticket booth. Telling you that there’s no way his girlfriend will be kissing other guys. He only calmed down after you explained why you had to. “I told my mom I would do this weeks before we even met. If I don’t she’ll be upset.” Rafe still wants to argue but from what you’ve told him about your parents he doesn’t.
Let’s be clear. He HATES the idea, he just hates the idea of you being sad even more. So he gives up letting you do it. Which is where you are now. In that stupid booth as guy after guy lines up to kiss you. The first shift was some random girl he doesn’t know so it was fine. Then she went on a break and it was your turn. The first few guys were chasist kisses, if you could even call them that. Then this asshole came in and tried to makeout with you. That was his breaking point.
“Where are you going?” Max questions as Rafe leaves his side. “Going to go kiss your sister. Don’t like how that guy was kissing my girl.” Max groans. It’s been like that since he got back. The two of you and then him, your third wheel. He’s still trying to get used to it. Max trails behind Rafe, agreeing with him for a different reason. These guys seem a little too demanding for some carnival booth.
Rafe cuts the line in the front, some boys from their school protesting. “Why are you even here?” One of them shouts. Rafe turns around shooting them a death glare. “To buy bread. What the fuck does it look like I’m doing?” The boys look at each other then at Max and Rafe. “Are you also going to kiss her?” One of them questions Max. “Ewww no. That’s my twin sister.” He starts to gag just thinking about it.
Their confused faces turn to ones of shock. “You’re letting him makeout with your sister?” They all shout at the same time. The line keeps getting shorter, Rafe’s almost at the front. The one guy in front of him and the one currently kissing you. “Why would I care? What they do is their business.”
The line moves again, your eyes twinkle at Rafe over the guy's shoulder. He turns back to the group behind him. “Not trying to be rude. Obviously your relationship is your own issue. But you really let your boyfriend kiss your sister?” Rafe and Max share the same look, seeing if they heard the boys right. “What the fuck are you on?” Rafe is irritated now. All he wants to do is kiss you but there’s this shit.
Next
“Well no one wanted to say anything but we know you two are together.” This caught your attention. “What do you mean?” The group looks at you. “Well they’ve been seeing each other. There was a straight week were we thought that would fuck in front of everyone. They got better at hiding it.” You can’t help but laugh at this. The whole time you and Rafe thought you were careful and you weren’t.
“This isn’t funny.” Rafe and Max yell at you, only making you laugh harder. “I’m not gay.” Max states. “It’s okay, You don’t have to hide it.” One of them tries to be nice. “He means it and neither am I. I’m dating her.” Rafe points back at you. “The only sex I am having is with my girlfriend. Now I’m you excuse me I think it’s my turn.”
Rafe walks up, handing you the ticket and kissing you. His hand engulfs your face as he deepens it. “Who kisses better, me or Max?” You joke when he pulls away. “Shut up and kiss me again.” He slams a roll of tickets on the table.
Looks like you’ll be here a while.
✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷
Tags:@ineedtosusoutmyreadinglist
#rafe cameron#rafe x reader#rafe obx#obx#rafe cameron smut#drew starkey smut#outer banks smut#rafe x you#rafe imagine
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The Civilian View of D-Day
The Normandy landings in France, which began on D-Day, 6 June 1944, involved the largest troop movement in history, but in this article, we focus on the view from civilians directly involved in that momentous day when the Allies sought to liberate Western Europe from occupation by Nazi Germany and end the Second World War (1939-45).
D-Day Preparations
As the Allies built up their troops and resources for D-Day in the south of England, to maintain secrecy and provide areas where training exercises for the landings could be conducted, some civilians were required to temporarily move from their homes and such buildings as churches were locked and surrounded by barbed wire. Betty Tab from Slapton in Devon remembers telling her mother of the rumours about this:
My sister heard the rumour in the shop when she went to get some groceries and she said to Mum that we were all going to have to move and of course Mum says, 'That's nonsense talking like that. Where we going to go?' And she says she heard in the shop. There was a meeting called then in the village hall and that confirmed that there was going to be an evacuation of the area for the American training.
My parents just couldn't believe it. I mean, Mum just said, 'Well, no, it's not going to happen because it can't. What are we going to do? Where are we going to go?' But it had to be so. So, of course, everybody had to get their thinking caps on and think, 'Well, where are we going to go?' If you couldn't get anything yourself the authorities would help but they did want you to try and get yourself fixed up, if possible, because, as you can imagine, there were hundreds trying to move. Thousands, I suppose, really. Quite an area it was.
(Bailey, 44)
Desmond O'Neill, an official cameraman for the British Army, describes his visit to a camp of troops readying themselves for the invasion:
I remember going to one unit, I think it was the South Lancashire Regiment, and taking some film of their final preparations for D-Day…they were laagered down near Roland's Castle in Hampshire, in woods there, and I went into the camp – the whole area was actually one huge camp. Very strict all the way round.
There was certainly a very excitable, tense atmosphere amongst those chaps. They'd been training presumably for a couple of years and they knew full well that they were going to be the spearhead troops and they knew therefore that there was a good chance of them getting shot. The atmosphere there was totally different to any other unit I'd ever been to. Discipline was strict but absolutely on a hairline. A very peculiar atmosphere. I know that the casualty figures had been given to them, the presumed casualty figures.
We photographed the chaps being instructed as to what was going to happen on the morning of D-Day, where they were going in and the rest. It was all mocked up. I didn't do very much filming apart from taking pictures of these chaps in the camp. They liked it. First of all they'd never seen a cameraman before. Secondly, it was a great divertissement. You know, 'The Mrs is going to see me back in Wigan,' all this kind of thing. I think it was a welcome diversion.
(Bailey, 66-7)
Continue reading...
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Astrology Observations #26
If you guys would like to show your support, you can buy me a coffee here :)
I’m starting to compile a list of reviews for readings on my masterlist so check it out if you’d like😊
If you guys would like a reading, feel free to DM me or fill out my Google form here
Take what resonates, leave what doesn’t. Enjoy!
Please do not copy my work.
🍿Someone I know has a Scorpio ruled 7th house and through their past relationships have been victims of witchcraft because of it. Whether it was their partners paying people to do spells on them or someone their partners were previously involved with or someone their partners were close with, its been a somewhat common occurrence for this person unfortunately☹️
(And i don’t think having a neptune there helped either…😕)
🍿Those of you who have your Moon in the 8th house, do you like horror films? Like it’s something i’ve noticed with a few people i know and i personally dislike a lot of them👎
🍿As a girl with a Gemini Juno, funny guys are my absolute weakness😩😩 Gemini Sun men also. In fact just all men with Gemini placements. Does this apply to you guys with your Juno placement?
🍿Aquarius risings are so cool, love them😚
🍿Since the 12th house rules bed pleasures, how many of your 12th housers like really and i mean REALLY like your bed. Like in fact do you guys ever like leaving your house?
🍿If you have Uranus in the 4th house, if you’d like to, tell me what your family does that you think no other family does🤔
🍿Everytime I have my Moon in the 8th house in my lunar return chart, something always comes to an end. Do you guys notice the same thing with your lunar return charts or nah
🍿Not an observation but I have Pluto in the 8th house at 29 degrees for my solar return chart this year and I am a little frightened icl… have any of you guys had this placement in your sr charts? If so, what happened that year?
🍿Living on your Saturn MC line is soooo tough😩feeling like life is harder for you than most ppl is NOT it😭😭
🍿Leo Risings, do your relationships ever stem from a friends to lovers type situation or nah?
🍿Now i know i’ve mentioned this before in a previous post but I just wanna say again that having a Moon-Chiron conjunction in your sr chart absolutely sucks. A year where you can really be going through it😖😖😖
🍿I currently have Neptune in the 1st opposite mars AND mercury in the 7th house in my sr chart and i can tell you that the daydreaming about being in a relationship has gone into overdrive…😔
🍿I also have my 5th house ruler conjunct chiron in my sr chart and heartbreak has occurred… so if you have it in your sr chart you may wanna brace yourself😫
(I thought my sr chart was gonna be really good but I was unfortunately blind to every other placement in my chart but my major 7th house stellium… REMEMBER GUYS A 7TH HOUSE STELLIUM CAN INDICATE GAINING BEST FRIENDS AND DOES NOT GUARANTEE YOU A RELATIONSHIP😭😭
🍿A more straightforward observation but having Chiron in the 11th house of a SR chart can indicate losing some friends… like not necessarily in the typical way where you guys fall out, but it could be a scenario where they move away, or you guys can’t see each other as often for whatever reason.
🍿I feel like living on your Saturn MC line can also indicate getting into more problems with authority figures and more so them starting problems with you… they can turn into absolute f***ing b****rds out of nowhere… sorry i just have some trauma with members of authority😭😭
🍿I have my sun at 10 degrees and a 10th house stellium… I wonder if thats why i’ve always felt like i had an old soul… this is probably why my family always says to me that i’m a grandma😭😭
🍿7th house ruler in the 10th house of a sr chart can indicate meeting someone at work
🍿In a few months Jupiter will conjunct my natal Juno… I wonder what’ll happen then?🤔
🍿I feel like Gemini Mercury’s multitask a lot. Like A LOT. It’s almost tiring to watch them do it tbh😭
🍿I feel like having a Leo ruled 5th house can indicate attracting partners who worship you.
This was different from my other observations but I hope you guys still enjoyed it😭
#astrology#astro#astro posts#astrology community#astro community#astrology posts#astro notes#astro observations#astrology notes#astrology observations#astrology readings#astrology placements#astro placements#solar return#lunar return#natal chart
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Colin as a character has been my favourite since Season 1 for so many reasons, but it was recently brought to my attention that he takes the emotions and opinions of women seriously, which is such a contrast to the other men on the show.
I can’t remember who the creator on TikTok was that I first heard this mentioned but it has been a bit of a lightbulb since. This is a long one so bear with me but I have some thoughts…
Example: Season 1 The Duel…
Anthony has decided, and honestly it’s rather infuriating how he treats Daphne and refuses to listen to her. Sends her to bed like a child. Then Benedict is with him and he just seems to implicitly follow and support him.
When Colin is informed he is shown to be bringing a rather inebriated Violet home, which is sweet in and of itself but also, his adorable humour is also a brief highlight “Good God, did someone die?” Which I loved.
But then, He LISTENS to Daphne. This is what I hadn’t ruminated on until recently, because quite frankly it’s so true to his character and something that I guess I had just come to expect of Colin.
Yes, he tries to dissuade her and He begins with the expected lines about dishonour and leaving the men to their matters, but when she speaks He Listens. He pays attention, he does not disregard her and it’s precisely because he listens that she is able to go and speak with the Duke.
Why is this significant? Well because his interaction with the Daphne in the scene in Anthony’s study feels genuine. Colin does not treat her “lesser” or ignore her. This is important and is in direct contrast to a scene Daphne has with Anthony.
Earlier in the season there is an exchange where Anthony says he would have acted differently if Daphne had told him about Berbrooke. She calls him out on his dismissal of her feelings “because” she is a woman and doesn’t believe that he would have believed her, and honestly I agree. However, I would suspect that No One would say the same of Colin. In every interaction with the women in his life, he seems to truly listen and to care about their thoughts and opinions.
Now before anyone comes at me in defence of Anthony, (Yes I know, it was the time period) and I also say, this is not about Anthony but about how even in the smallest of details the show and writers have seemed set Colin apart.
He listens to his sisters/mother and not in a patronising or dismissive way, not in an obligatory way either. He even has what could be seen as an inappropriate friendship with Pen, which for whatever reason, has gone unnoticed or ignored throughout the years.
So when it comes to spending time with her in Season 3, enjoying her company and truly connecting with her I would venture to say that the relationships he has with his mother/sisters might be a big factor in why he didn’t know how to/couldn’t contextualise his feelings.
He has had emotional relationships with women and values them highly so this is not seen as something separate in his mind
Until. The. Kiss.
Because that is the ONE thing that can differentiate his relationship with Pen from ALL other female relationships. No wonder he fell so hard,those feelings were always there, it just wasn’t until that physical intimacy that it all made sense.
Lastly I think it is all of this, Colin’s emotional intelligence, that makes his “persona” at the beginning of Season 3 seem so out of place. When Penelope (his arguably most cherished female relationship) didn’t reply to his letters he seemed to completely lose himself.
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I have problems with some of the fans of the show. Specifically the type that overlooks or brush off the villain characters thoughts or feelings.
Don’t get me wrong, you can not care for them. That’s perfectly okay, more power to you. In fact, I don’t care for most characters on the show except for a few.
But saying “this character got what they deserved!” Or demonising them for acting out because of the event is what I don’t like.
If lunar, moon or sun did anything wrong they have people who are willing to defend them and explain it’s because of this thing. “They were scared!”, “he’s mourning!” And that’s perfectly fine.
But Bloodmoon is justified for feeling how he feels after his twin died. He’s justified for wanting revenge and he shouldn’t be demonised or disregarded for how he feels about it. Like I’m sorry but if your sibling, the one person who is your ride or die, the closest person to you, dies, wouldn’t you be upset? Or want revenge? And if we’re being fully honest, Monty set himself up for showing that video of the twins death to Bloodmoon on that podcast. Plus you can’t expect them to stop killing. They are heavily dependent on it and it’s not fair to them.
Or how about eclipse? Og eclipse did terrible things, that’s true. But you shouldn’t disregard the fact he was hurt by what old moon did. He was a victim who later became the person who hurt him the most. Hell, solar flare even pointed out that og eclipse had an identity crisis because eclipse saw himself as moon. Og eclipse and old moon are mirrors to each other, they both hurt people who they’d consider as “good parts” of themself. Eclipse regretted hitting lunar, eclipse still entertained lunar but he was very distant with lunar. Old moon was unhealthy attached to sun, hurt him for the sake of protecting him, only changed because the person he was attached to confronted him.
I will repeat og eclipse was a victim who became the person who hurt him the most.
Or how about ruin? Now I agree, ruin’s plan was…something else entirely. And yes, a lot of dimensions died. He is wrong for this but you shouldn’t say he wanted solars death unless the show itself says it. Ruin didn’t want solar to die and regrets that part of it. He didn’t find a way to execute his plan and also keep solar alive. Mind you, we didn’t see what ruins dimension was like for him. We never fully saw what it was like in his eyes, what his view of everything was. Hell, ruin may not even understand what it’s like to be separate like sun and moon as a core part of him was the merge. It’s why he suggests it as a source of the problem with moon. And to him, having half of a family with a dimension with no virus was better off.
Bonus round with v3 eclipse. It’s acknowledged that v3 is a copy of og eclipse. A clone with partial memories. That is not og eclipse and he shouldn’t be punished for mistakes of someone he looks like and shares some memories with. He woke up one day and suddenly was given an identity that wasn’t his. He has memories of what old moon did and he recognises new moon is a person different from old moon and it’s why he doesn’t accept new moons apologies since it’s not from the person he remembers. His only crime so far is being rude and acting out.
I’m not saying any of this to justify what any of these guys did. I’m saying this because they have thoughts, reasoning and feelings for their actions. They aren’t evil for the sake of it, it’s either by nature or nurture. Bloodmoon was probably made from a bitter place in og eclipse, that’s why they acted like that. It’s basically their nature. Og eclipse was hurt and that’s why he hurts others in return. Ruin saw his dimension turn to nothing, it’s why he’s so emotionally distant. V3 eclipse is a clone of someone he doesn’t know, everyone treats him as that person and it’s why he plays into that villain role.
If you don’t care about them. Great! Cool for you! But if you claim these guys did any of this without reason or thought then I think you’re wrong. And you shouldn’t put down any person who actually considers any of their perspectives, reasoning or feelings.
Besides if you characterise them as such basic evil villains then I think you don’t have media literacy. And don’t complain about how they’re so basic when you yourself made them like that.
Again, at the end of the day, it’s a show on YouTube that has gameplay videos. God knows what the next plot line will be. They might prove me right or wrong. But we all watch from the same show so let’s just have fun.
.
#sun and moon show#the sun and moon show#tsams#sams#tsams confession#< block this if you dont want to see these#mod 1blood
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Silk from their soul (08)
The Ghoul / Cooper Howard x f!reader [no use of y/n]
Rated: Teen (series will be explicit)
Words: 1.7k
Summary: Where'd you learn to shoot like that?
Series Masterlist
My Masterlist
Three days go by and the Ghoul still hasn’t figured out what the fuck’s he’s going to do. He’s managed to redirect them to a farmstead that’s been abandoned for a good decade already. It was a decent enough place to hole up for the night, and kept them from heading straight toward her goal. Kept them closer to the stateline than not.
He needs to just fucking do it.
He knows her now, knows how she walks, how she thinks. She probably wouldn’t try to fight him when he finally told her about the bounty. More likely she would just deflate, that same sad look settling on her face as when they’d found a dead songbird on the path.
She’d still eaten it, but she’d nearly cried.
Something in him recoiled at the idea of putting that look on her.
Not like it mattered much. They had supplies enough, thanks to her haggling, and he wasn’t in a rush to move on to the next thing. The price on her head would set him for a while - his feet would start itching long before he needed to meet his needs
So what was the difference in spending a bit more time with someone who didn’t flinch every time they looked at him? Someone who teased him and acted like they were out for a Sunday stroll every damn day even with the rad roaches and the mole rats. Someone who, occasionally, made him remember the man he used to be.
It was fucking dangerous is what it was.
The man he was couldn’t survive in the wasteland. That man had a sense of honor, of right and wrong, that would abso-fucking-lutely get him killed.
Get them killed.
Because she was soft cotton and flower petals wrapped in a pretty sun dress and without him she would have been dead a thousand times over by now, he just knew it. Someone had to make those choices, shoot a man in the face, to keep them both alive.
“You need to learn how to shoot.”
She turns to look at him as he says it, carefully clambering over a rocky outcropping. “I do?”
“If you plan to survive out here you need to know how to protect yourself.”
“And you think that means learning how to shoot?”
He grunts and quickens his pace so he can pass her, scanning the area until he sees what he’s looking for - a small ridge line with darker colored rocks buried in the sand about fifty yards away. He catches her by the waist as she tries to go past, spinning her until she’s directly in front of him and they’re both facing it.
“First rule is don’t ever point this thing at me,” he tells her, pulling his pistol and settling it into her hand.
“I thought the first rule is treat every gun like it’s loaded?”
“That’s the second rule.”
She chuckles and he feels it all the way down his spine. He shouldn’t be standing so close to her but he’d be lying if it wasn’t half the reason he’d decided to start this little impromptu lesson. Pulling his gloves off he tucks them into his belt.
“This one’s got a bit of kick so you should hold it with both hands.” He takes her left wrist and lifts her arm, wrapping her fingers around the hilt alongside the other. It’s exactly like a dozen movies he was in a lifetime ago, holding a woman in his arms while he showed them how to do some mundane task.
They almost always ended in a kiss.
Gulping, he leans over her shoulder. “See that green rock over yonder? See if you can’t-”
The rock shatters.
The Ghoul blinks in the hazy smoke, staring at the hill. When he turns back she’s got her head tilted up to his, their faces inches apart. “The black with a white stripe next?” she asks before adjusting and pulling the trigger. The damn woman never even looks away from him, the rock she identified spinning down the hill in a cloud of dust.
“Did I hit it?”
“Did you-” Stepping away he takes his hat off, squinting at the ridgeline. “Why the fuck am I the one doing all the shooting?”
Grinning, you pass the gun back, carefully pointing the barrel down. “I don’t have a pistol.”
“Why the hell didn’t you buy yourself one?”
“If you spend too much money in one spot people get greedy. We were pretty much maxed out on survival gear.”
And she’d bought him chem instead. He gapes at her, trying to figure her out. Everyone had an angle, everyone was in it for themself. He’d known that for centuries now. And yet she still managed to surprise him.
Even more so when she nudges his shoulder companionably with her own. “Don’t be mad, I’ve had years of practice.”
He stares at her face, untouched by time and a fierce counterpoint to his own. His curious fascination shifts into a grudging respect. Where before he had found her interesting, an anomaly, knowing that she could take care of herself if it came to it made his body light the fuck up. She’s close enough he only has to shift slightly for them to be standing toe to toe - barely a breath between them.
Smooth skin is cool under his palm, her neck arching just so into the curve of his hand. It’s too intense, he can feel it, heat thrumming between them. And it’s not just him - her eyes are glazed, her breath suddenly coming in rapid pants. Not a kiss, a kiss would be too much, too much for her to handle his face and mouth that close.
No, he wants a taste instead. Of all his sense only taste remains as sharp as it once was - undiluted by the effects of time and radiation.
There’s no resistance when he tilts her head to the side, ducking down to run his tongue along the exposed skin. He doesn’t imagine the way she shudders, or that her pulse leaps beneath his lips.
He could bite her, gnaw the life out of her bones.
With a low groan he sinks his teeth into her shoulder, tasting the salt of her sweat and the sweetness of her skin. His head is full of her scent, her body pulled flush to his own. Fuck his missing nose and ruined face, if he can’t taste the inside of her mouth right now he might just collapse right here in the dirt.
Nibbling his way back up her neck, he rubs his lips against her skin, nipping at her chin before swooping in to take her mouth. To tangle their tongues together and feel her moan how much she wants him all the way to his cock.
It’s a bucket of ice water when she jerks away, shoving against his chest and sending him stumbling a step backwards.
“No.”
Hunger nearly overwhelms him, hazy redness creeping at the edge of his vision. It’s not the Turning, not quite, but something rawer and deeper. He wants to throw her to the ground and rut against her - flip her to her knees and…
A quick jerk of his head and he comes back to himself. She’s a few feet away, chest heaving. There’s a red mark on her neck and he feels a rush of pleasure that he left it there. She looks a bit unsteady herself and he takes a gamble.
“I’ve been told a fair few times that no means no - but it seems to me there might be a bit of room for interpretation here.”
“No kissing,” she blurts out, seeming stunned by her own words.
“Anywhere?” He cocks his head, hooking his thumbs into his belt, “That takes a bit of the fun out of things, don’t you think?”
A hand flies up to cover her mouth and she lets out a strained laugh. It breaks the mood - whatever it was - between them, and he sighs as he steps further away from her.
“We’re gonna lose a crop we keep on like this, you ready?”
She doesn’t point out that he’s the one who called for the stop, nor does she mention that it was his actions that caused the delay. She keeps pace near him, not saying a word and he doesn’t bother to fill the silence.
Had he read her wrong? Her pulse had thrummed like a hummingbird under his hand but that could as easily have been fear. Maybe she had been terrified of him, too scared to stop him. He hadn’t tried to fuck anyone in over a hundred years - hell his cock hardly worked half the time these days. Maybe he’d fucked up.
Shit.
So much for his thoughts of having a bit of fun before turning her over.
It was too bad, she was pretty and tasted like cool spring water and spun sugar. It was enough to make his mouth water. And she looked at him like he was still a man, not a monster. Then again, he’d been a hell of a lot nicer to her than he’d been to most people the last few years. Maybe everyone was as sweet if he was just a little kinder to them.
Sure, and he’d wake up tomorrow to find he was hairier than a yeti’s ass.
He pauses, staring at the horizon. The sun would set in about an hour and there weren’t nothing he could think of nearby to make camp at. Maybe a bit of fallen overpass? He’d take second watch and tie her up while she slept. Then he could explain things nice and easy in the morning and quit this stupid ass farce they were engaged in.
“The mouth.”
It was the first words she’d said in hours and he glanced her way with a scowl. “What was that?”
She won’t meet his eyes, looking pointedly away from him. “You asked, and I’m answering.”
It takes a moment for his brain to catch up. He just couldn’t kiss her on the mouth, that’s what she was telling him.
Well hell, he could work with that.
☢ ☢ ☢
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Humans are weird: Movie Theaters
( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)
Alien: Why are you taking me to a dark place?
Alien: Do you plan to murder me?
Human: What? No!
Alien: I thought we were friends, Human Jim.
Human: I’m not going to-
Alien: I will not go down so easily, Human Jim!
Alien: *Begins sprinting away in opposite direction
Human: *watches friend run away…
Human: (Shouts) This was your idea you idiot!
--------------------
Alien: So people come here to watch a moving picture?
Human: We call them “Movies”.
Alien: But then the same picture is only on these giant screens for a few of your rotations before it can be seen on your smaller screens?
Human: Yes.
Alien: So really you are just paying to see your “movie” on a bigger screen?
Human: Yes.
Alien: How does that make sense?
Human: Some movies just need to be seen on bigger screen.
Alien: *Phissh
*Proceeds to watch “Return of the King” on movie screen.
Alien: Sobbing I was wrong.
Human: Damn right you were.
--------------------
Human: Now remember, snack counters are where movie theaters really shiv you for money.
Alien: It can’t be that bad.
*At register after getting snacks
Clerk: So that is one popcorn, one soda, and two boxes of candy which will total sixty seven credits.
Alien: SIXTY SEVEN!?!?!?
Alien: That’s nearly triple what we paid for tickets!
Clerk: We also now offer organ harvesting options if you don’t have credits.
Human: You can’t be-
Human: *Sees alien friend lifting up shirt and cutting open stomach
Human: You can’t be serious.
Alien: Whispers It’s okay, I have thirteen livers and I only use six on any given day.
-----------------
Alien: Where should we sit?
Human: We could sit at the top; it’s more recluse and no people behind us but perverts tend to hangout up there.
Alien: Wait….what?
Alien: Why would perverts go to a movie-
Alien: *Realization
Alien: Oh.
Alien: OH.
Alien: OH!!!
Human: Yeah……
Human: Just be thankful we aren’t seeing a “My Little Pony” movie.
Alien: Surely it can’t be that bad.
Human: I once saw a group of ushers break out night sticks to shoo them out, and they didn’t leave until they “finished”.
Alien: *Barfs.
---------------------
Alien: Why does the movie listing say it starts at a certain time but then must watch twenty minutes of ads for other movies before it even starts?
Human: It’s a misdirect.
Human: It gives people a chance to get snacks and then make it to the movie without missing anything.
Alien: No wonder your species is weak.
Alien: You cater to those who cannot manage their time properly.
Human: Oh that’s not how we measure strength.
Human: The real test is being able to control your bladder for three hours so you don’t miss a single thing.
Alien: I will admit that is impressive.
Human: My record is twelve hours.
Alien: Why would you endure such pain?
Human: When you watch the extended editions of LOTR nothing less is acceptable.
--------------------
Alien & Human: *Patiently watching movie
Annoying kids behind them: *Kicking chair
Human: Whispers back Please stop.
Annoying kids: *Continues kicking
Human: Last warning, please stop.
Annoying kids: *Snickers and continues kicking.
Alien: Looks at human Now?
Human: Nods They were warned.
Alien: Roars and leaps back into children
Annoying kids: Scream in terror as alien throws one of them into the screen.
Alien: Looks at human friend as they are holding second child in air Are you sure this is acceptable?
Human: *Points at surrounding audience cheering and clapping
Human: Crowd justice has spoken.
Alien: *Shrugs and flings remaining child into nearby wall.
----------------------
Alien: When is it acceptable to speak in a movie?
Human: If a movie is terrible and the crowd’s commentary is more entertaining.
Alien: You’ve seen this happen?
Human: Oh yeah.
Human: Last time it was for a movie about three masked killers hunting down some people in a trailer park.
Human: We all ended up cheering for the killers as the lead’s acting was terrible.
Human: When they actually died we started cheering; the person next to me started weeping tears of joy.
--------------------
Alien: *Whispers to human
Alien: That human next to you is recording the movie on their phone.
Human: I noticed.
Alien: Are you not going to do anything?
Human: Not unless their phone brightness gets brighter.
Alien: Do you not care for the movie industry?
Human: No.
Human: *Notices light get brighter
Human: But I do care about my own time enjoying it.
Human: *Proceeds to grab drink and pour it on phone human, triggering a massive fight which has him and his alien friend thrown out of theater.
#humans are weird#humans are insane#humans are space oddities#humans are space orcs#scifi#story#writing#original writing#niqhtlord01#movie theater#funny#meme#movie theater etiquette
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This was inspired by @cuppajj’s beast ancients au! So, credits to them! Also this will feature my oc, Choco-mochi cookie! I might make a part two, but that’s still not determined yet.
Chapter One
Preclude:
Tw: has triggering things like forced-isolation and neglect. Read at your own discretion or don’t read if that’s uncomfortable for you. Remember, this is fiction. If that’s what’s happening to you, then get help and know that there always a way to get out of the situation. Remember that you are loved and you are amazing.
Mochi cookie was never the silent nor stoic one in the palace. They were the emotional one who always spoke the loudest when to came to their passions, their curiosities, and their ideas. In a land where the stoic and strong prevailed, it was a suprise that the second to the throne was so…full of emotion and curiosity. At one point, they would ask questions everyday and all day. Why was the licorice sea black? Why did they have to not eat so many sweets? Or why can’t they be friends with everyone? And what was more was that they’d ask these silly questions to anyone, including their father Dark Cacao. Yes, the King of the Dark Cacao kingdom before he became…the cookie he was now.
But now? Oh, the young cookie was so scared. The same cookie, the same man, and the same king that swore to protect them, had failed them. Any and all questions were seen as a threat. As something that was making the same starry eyed child warp into a threat that would take over the kingdom in his eyes. While freezing them would work, he couldn’t do that. So, he decided for a more merciful approach. In order to cease this threat, he’d just, lock her in a cold room. Alone. At first, the young cookie thought maybe they had done something wrong. So, they tried to regain their father’s approval by trying to be stoic or strong. Of course, the only thing that landed her was silence from him. He didn’t acknowledge it nor did he seem to pay mind to her. So, she tried to make her presence known by doing the one thing that she did best: talking. However, after a few sentences in, she was promptly yelled at for speaking out of line and forcibly dragged into the room.
“Insolence and impudence must be snuffed”. was his reasoning. Such bold and audacious questions and talk would possibly cause the kingdom to loose control. And what then? What would become of this kingdom other than an another piece of territory for the rest of his foes. It would become Dragonberry’s, or Midnight Lily’s. Or worse, it would be burnt ablaze by Saint Vanilla. So, with such twisted and paranoid thinking, he kept her inside. Inside a dark desolate castle that was silent.
The young cookie was so alone. They sobbed and cried as they went to the only cookies they could trust: Carmel Arrow and Crunchy Chip cookie. The two were once fiercely loyal to the king, but their loyalty was slipping as they saw the crushed hope and light of the child. They quietly gave comfort in the secrecy of the now paranoid king as they whispered soft comforts and let the child sob of their pain and fear. Well, that was there for a good while. At least until the only cookies Mochi trusted were forced to leave.
The event that led to Carmel and Crunchy’s departure was still a mystery to Mochi. Why would they leave? Why didn’t they bring her along? Were they also tired of her presence as well? They had more questions than ever, but it didn’t feel the same as before. It felt suffocating, burdensome, and downright painful. Were they truly alone in this castle? Mochi wandered the halls, as they pondered this. After the event, it seemed that everything was worse. It seemed that it was the nail in the coffin that would silence Mochi forever.
But no, this wouldn’t be the end. Not today, even after all the pain and suffering Mochi had been through, they were determined to find them. Determined to bring back light, determined to make things right. And most of all, now they wanted more to leave. To leave the hellhole that made them walk on eggshells. To find help, to find their lost family, and to regain their voice. So, when dusk had set and many were asleep, Mochi quietly packed their bags of the scarce yet precious belongings they still had, and snuck out to the desolate frozen land that was unforgiving as the castle.
(Authors note: man, this was crazy. Idk how many words, but this was my first one shot. Hopefully it’s good for y’all! Again credits to @cuppajj and their amazing beast ancients au!)
#beast ancients au#crk story#crk au#crk oc#Crk#cookie run kingdom#cookie run#frigid cacao cookie#Carmel arrow cookie#crunchy chip cookie#dark cacao cookie#tw neglect and forced isolation
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