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nymphany · 10 months

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Thoughts for thoughts

♡Call of Duty thoughts♡

Masterlist

!!! Warnings !!!

Hybrid! Characters, dark characters, dark content, hybrids, bimbo reader, nsfw etc

MINORS DNI

♡ bull 141 + farmer price! X cow! Reader, they're always fighting over you and craving your milk it's too bad it's only for price

♡ Sheep dog soap x lamb reader he heards you into a corner all by yourself and knots you until you're completely full or until the farmer finds the both of you

♡ big bad wolf! Simon x lil red! lamb/doe/bunny reader!! Hes absolutely animalistic feral even

♡ gaz and his pretty milf neighbour

♡ Alejandro letting rudy share his wife!!!!!

♡ dog! Anyone humping your foot like the degenerate he is, or humping anything that fits between his thighs you can't leave him alone because he cant be trusted :(( he cums on everything and anything that smells like you. complete mess. God forbid you have any sex toys too because hes 100% cumming in them and scenting them

♡ dog! Ghost, soap, price x dog! Reader, ghost is big, a lil mean and scary, soap is too dramatic for your little brain and price always makes you feel dumber than you are (he doesnt mean too tho) you always stay away from them especially when they get back from a mission you just know they're filled with adrenaline and you wont be able to help yourself but you cant help but gravitate towards them when your heat starts, the problem is all of them want you to have their pups and you can barely walk or move once you heat dies down. They always tease eachother about when they get you, they play so dirty!! Sparring? Pinned down and humped, bending over? Humped, reaching for something? Humped. You really can't catch a break </3

♡ bear price x bunny reader <3 yummy yummy yummy so big and warm, so strong and smart he has to protect his dumb cocksleeve !! Let's you have all the blankets for your nests even some of his clothes <3 he always soothes you when you cry from how big he is and how he doesnt fit in the delicately crafted nest. but its okay because he doesnt mind being tightly pressed against you hes okay with the tiny nest and his tiny bunny.

♡ mean! Cat! Ghost x kitty reader, shes a high class purebred show cat with the cutest bells and bows and ghost is a scruffed up tom cat who loves to annoy her. Hes a degenerate too and is not above sniffing your panties while their still on you, he just loves her scent and want you to have his litter. He scents her all the time at this point people assume shes ghost when she comes near. He purrs so loud too when hes balls deep

♡ Or stag/ram! Soap who loves to scent his pretty deer/lamb shes so soft and pretty and he wants her so bad!! She smells so good and hes always pressing his nose into her neck. He definitely challenges everyone to train against him but only if you watch 👁👁 he needs ti prove he can provide strong babies (he fails a bunch because hes too busy looking at her)

♡ Need a bear! Konig + bunny reader, hes so big like gigantic, huge and he scares her! Shes a baker and bakes things for everyone and he is just head over heels in love with her but she thinks he wants to eat her but he just wants a cupcake. He leaves treats at her door, flowers and pretty rocks trying to court her. She thinks hes making fun of her </3 and gets all angry and stomps her feet at him but he just swoons even more. She finally starts coming around when the cold comes and she feels the need to snuggles up with this furnace of a giant. When her heat comes so does her oral fixation, she loves having any part of him in her mouth, she loves his scent, his taste all of it!! He doesnt fit into any nest she makes because hes built like a tank but that's okay his bed is big enough.

♡ Wolf! Ghost x little red riding hood! Reader, shes walking to prices house to give him some baked goods and meals she made him, hes been helping her with some repairs and just has to repay him but the big bad wolf doesnt like that the pretty girl with the pretty scent is hanging around price of all people so he fakes an injury while she walks past him and put lil doe eyed girl has to help an someone in need although she didnt know it would be this type of help. Price isnt pleased when stumbles across the scene of graves balls deep, knot forming and rounds and rounds of cum dripping from lil red. Shes on her knees cheek pressed against the floor and is too delirious to acknowledge price, ghost however is as smug as always knowing he got his favourite red hood

♡ Stag! Soap with his deer! Reader whose so shy and skittish from being surrounded by giant men, she clings on to him like a life line being the same species gives her something to relate too he must also intimidated by these absolute units. She cant be further from the truth, soap feels no fear infact he feels power he has the one thing the others dont and what they crave. Hes so mean about it to, hes so rough when fucking you just so they can hear and suffer, He brags about it in the morning to everyone embarrassing you as they all look at you with such hunger.

♡ Kitty! Reader x big cats! Rudy + alejandro + wolf! Graves. !!! Somnophilia !!! Kitty! Reader whose so pretty and perfect, covered in bows, bells and lace. Rudy and alejandro always compliment her praising her soft ears and tail, letting them feel for themselves. This makes graves very jealous and the only way he knows how to respond to this is being a menace. Kitty reader isnt too fond of graves, hes loud, gets too excited on missions and most importantly hes a whore, always flirting with her even though she tells him shes not interested and that hes smells weird. Alejandro and Rudy are practically like your body guards (graves assumes its because you're both from the same species family and have more to bond over he doesnt connect the dots that kitty may be too skittish from his enthusiasm) and follow you everywhere, always interested in what your doing until one day they arent with you and He catches you sleeping in the warmth of the sun, your cheek pressed into your arm and drool leaking from you mouth but most importantly your legs spread and panties on reveal. His instincts take over and he cant help himself but to press his nose into your cunt sniffing and licking all he can get. You wake up startled and try to bat him away but hes been craving this for months and cant stop even if he tried. Hes humping your foot desperate for your hole but too caught up in how you taste. Alejandro and rudy find you full of graves knot, mewling as he tries to bully himself deeper into you.

♡ valeria and her bunny who shes so mean to! She calls her dumb and when she tries to deny it she fucks her until she cant she see straight just to prove her point. She always dresses her in such pretty and skimpy stuff just to irritate everyone who sees her to add to the burn he let's her cockwarm him whenever she pleases infront of her men? Go ahead, infront of the 141? Absolutely, when shes talking over the comms directing her men? 100% shes so pookie bear

♡ If Alejandro and rudy owned hybrid girl graves would 100% steal it just like he stole their base

♡ mean! Wolf! Gaz and puppy reader? Hes so mean and smart and shes so slobbery and dumb. She so obedient and follows every command shes given 'oh you want me to bend over? okay :D' he lives for it at first he wasnt as bold in just straight up asking her to bend over and take his cock. Hed try to be sneaky at first asking her to reach for things, look under the cabinet for the pen he dropped, walking into he bathroom and 'looking' for something. He soon realise how stupid she is and too advantage of his discovery, any time he wants to plow his knot into a warm tight hole all he needs to do jt whistle and she come running on over clothes already gone

♡ Prison guard! Price who rewards his favourite prisoner

♡ Slasher! Soap + ghost who breaks into your house only to found you with your fingers in your cunt crying because you cant cum

♡ Dbf! Price/Graves whose driving you home after you called him only to pull over to the side of the road because you keep giving him back talk he practically throws you onto the hood of the care and fucks you as cars drive past some of them slowing down to get a better look. Hes so mean about it, spanking you until you bruise making sure you'll think about jom every time you sit down. Hes probably complaining about the way you dress and how guys will look at you like meat (as if he doesnt do the exact same thing)

♡ Dbf! Graves who meets you at the golf course while your dad is talking with his friends. You're so bored and have nothing to do but when graves offer to treat you to a ride around on his cart you have to agree (because theres literally nothing else to do) he drives you somewhere nice and quiet and fucks you stupid until you cry. You're so spoiled and he has to teach you a lesson

♡ Pastor price/graves who cant help but fall for you even tho he took a vow. You confess about all you dirty thoughts, all the dreams, how you hump your pillow to the thought of the pastor, how you choke yourself with your rosary and imagine his fingers in place in the confession boothe. It's the same place where you later suck him off and ride him

♡ stepdad! Price who fucks you in the kitchen letting the neighbours see who good he fucks you

♡ soap hiring a bikini car wash to clean his already perfect car, watching his neighbours come out a rake the invisible leaves, talk to him about football, some even bold enough to just watch you

♡ sharing a bed with gaz except you cant keep your hands to yourself and the rest if the team just have to listen to you moan as you cum

♡ cat! Gaz x spoiled kitty! Reader!! Price spoils you so much and you get so jealous when he adopts a new cat!!! You avoid gaz and he has enough so he bends you over and fucks you dumb when price nips out

♡ simon fucking you as you practice shooting "just testing how well you can focus now aim for the target and let me do my thing"

♡ mountain men/lumberjack! 141+konig.

Little silly thing who doesnt understand why these men are so big like huge giants, how did they get that big? What are they eating to get that big?

She probably lives in a cave filled with things shes stolen from abandoned campsites, blankets, clothes, lanterns, chairs, anything she can get her hands one. She has a nest of comfy soft things and a box (suitcase+ cooler) filled with pretty things like gems, rocks, shiny bottle caps, bits of sea glass etc

She probably sees one of them showering in the lake on a very hot day and doesnt understand why the thing in between their legs is so huge??? The male fairies arent like them at all. She thinks there is definitely something wrong with them and needs her help so she watches and stares until they notice her (which was terrifying because she just flutters around making little noise) when asked who she was she just whips out a pocket knife she finds and points it down and goes "Why does it look like that? I'll help" with this doe eyed expression as if she hadnt just suggestive the worst thing to happen to the poor man

Immediately he starts screaming because he most definitely doesnt want his dick cut off he runs away and nobody believes his story because fairies dont exist and they would never cut off their dicks. That is until their stuff starts disappearing, it's nothing meaningful tho. They took their shirt off because it's too hot? Boom gone, they left a torch on the ground for a couple of seconds? Gone, took off their gloves? Gone again. They think they're displacing them but when they wake up to various plant pots missing and the rocks from their garden they start setting up cameras to see who the culprit is. They vary throughout the forest going as deep as they can. Imagine their surprise when they catch our lil fairy on camera innocently taking the plants and rocks because she thinks they're pretty.

They manage to track her down although not to her cave, shes sat near a tree eating some berries seemingly undisturbed by the massive men infront of her who are so confused (one relieved that he wasnt hallucinating) shes so lonely tho. Almost all the fairies left this part of the forest when humans decided to camp so shes more than happy to show them her cave and treasures. Her english isnt good as humans and fairies do not speak the same although most of her language skills are picked up from her overhearing/stalking campers.

They obviously cant let her live like this so they bring her back with them taking all the things she "owns" with them because she made such a fuss about them. They keep her warm and fed helping her with human customs like showering (they're more than happy to help her), cooking and wearing regular clothes (fairies no not enjoy clothes!! Underwear and a big shirt/ dress only) the clothes part does not go over well and they now have a half naked women with they prettiest wings in their cabin. Shes so pretty and dumb and always brings them back things on her adventures (some of them arent useful but they enjoy them nonetheless)

♡ bear! konig, tiger! horangi and their doe! Reader!!!!

♡ mermaid! reader and semi dark! pirate! 141??? YES!! Sweet dumb thing who saves one of the crew (it's probably gaz hes always falling out of stuff) then starts leaving them gifts but she soon gets captured in one of their nets and they obviously have to keep her

♡ OR princess/wealthy! Reader x semi dark! Pirates! Cod!!! They keep her locked in a cellar returning her back to her father these pirates arent fair and are always trying to watch her when shes allowed to bathe, being on the sea with no women is hard she cant blame them

♡ siren! Cod x tropical mermaid reader!!! Shes so pretty and sparkley they just want to keep her in their nest forever!!!!

♡ OR siren! Cod x aquarium keeper! Reader!!! You worked as at the gift shop and stayed late to help the janitors, you were sweeping the floor of the brand new exhibit that apprently was a let down, the new siren was called konig and very rarely came out, he wasnt like soap (shark), ghost (orca), price (lemon shark), nikolai (idk), alejandro or rudy (idk), valeria (idk), horangi (idk), roach(idk) or graves (lil bitch idk) he was an giant octopus siren, he was never seen by the public and only comes out during feeding which is after hours. Youre cleaning away when you feel eyss on you and a large shadow falling over you. You turn around catching glimpse of the giant siren infront if you only a piece of glass protecting you, naturally you press your hand to the glass only to be snapped out of your daydream by someone yelling. Somehow over night you went from gift shop employer to siren whisperer. Multiple sirens lusting over you desperate to make them your mate (based on a sans undertale fanfic I read back in 2022 do not judge me I'll kill you(called tilikum(??)))

♡ lost island! Cod x reader, you wash up on shore after your cruise ship crashes, you seem to be the only one who survived as the wreckage of the ship in the distance seems to show no sign of life atleast that you can see although you doubt there is seeing half of it is sunk. Nevertheless who you explore this island encountering this savage mountain men who take you in and treat you almost like a puppy!!

♡ body guard! Cod x bimbo! Spoiled! Crybaby! Reader

♡ mafia! Cod x bimbo reader <3<3<3

♡ getting fucked when getting interrogated, you can only cum when you tell them the plans and they've got so many men and women who have such good self control, you wont be cumming for awhile.

♡ sex pollen

♡ that's it that's all you need to know

♡ I want a big beefy mountain scottish man in a mini micro kilt

#task force 141 #hybrid au #poly 141 x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #john price x reader #captain john price x reader #alejandro vargas x reader #rudy parra x reader #valeria garza x reader #konig x reader #horangi x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz x reader #task force 141 x reader #141 x reader

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samuel-de-champagne-problems · 19 days

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Part I: The Prophecy — June 25, 2011

Part I: On her daily morning run, Y/N wonders if she’ll ever have someone who wants her simply company. Spencer promises her just that, the only catch: she has to wait seven years.

Rating: Eventual smut, fluff and longing

Word Count: 3.5K

Series Masterlist | Tell Me What You Think!

My Mind Turns You Into Folklore: The Prophecy — June 25, 2011

Running, somehow, still made her feel like a child. Perhaps there was something unadulterated and carefree about losing yourself in the pounding of pavement. When Y/N felt the wind rush in her ears and the familiar burn throughout her body, she truly felt alive.

Her entire body ached— no, screamed— as she approached her fifth mile for the day’s session. For Y/N running wasn’t about getting to the destination fastest, but about finishing the race altogether.

She wished she could apply such wisdom to very particular aspects of her life. Namely, her love life. For Y/N, relationships with men were unpleasantly predictable. From terrible blind dates with friends who she honestly can’t tell if they meant well to men with habits so strange Y/N could only plead insanity by a drunken state as to why she entertained even a second glance. Unfortunately, for her the sea of men seemed to solely be comprised of rather the unfortunate sort of men that made her skin crawl.

Her knees burned as her mind ran through the five weddings and babies that were impending. Between cousins, college friends, and even her own sister all either, Y/N never more lonely than when she was surrounded by her people. There was something particularly voyeuristic about watching those you love move along the carousel while you’re left in the dust. She was a casual observer, marooned to the sidelines. And someone where along the way she forgot to even care.

Her chest burned as she wondered where her aunt, a woman born and forged from pure spite and hefty lack of tolerance for anything progressive, would sit her at her cousin’s wedding. Y/N heaved forward imagining what would be worse; the discarded old widow’s table with wives whose husbands’ expiration date had come and passed. Or with her unruly nephews who would have to be wrestled into a tiny tuxedo and bribed with fried food and the majesty of Red40 to maintain the semblance of civility.

Being 27, husbandless, boyfriendless, and childless didn’t usually bother Y/N. She loved her peace. But somehow it put her into this plane of existence where she straddled youth and adulthood. She had one foot jammed deep into the rich, sodden earth of childhood and one toe dipping too all too calm to be safe waters of adulthood. Yet being uncoupled was as if she purchased overnight shipping to the elephant graveyard.

It was antiquated. It was downright sexist, yet there was a small part of her heart and her entire being that craved to be taken care of by a man. She wanted someone to bring her flowers just because, to hug her from behind while she stirred soup for dinner on a chilly day, to brush her hair from her face as he brought her to the brink of pleasure time and time again.

There was only so much her vibrator could do.

But a heart that ached to be loved, that problem didn’t come with a WebMD link. There wasn’t a quick and easy fix to change something that defined her on a molecular level.

She savored the sweet breeze that reminded her of summer and childhood. The houses, various shades of blue, gray, and beige blurred past as she maintained her steady pace.

Y/N rounded the corner and pounded the pavement that led to Betsy’s Cape Cod. She was the Head Librarian and took Y/N under her rather Mother Goose-like wing three years ago when she took the position at the small, sleepy library. A suburb of Quantico, many of the patrons were families in public service.

She even stumbled across someone who quickly became her best friend, Spencer. He was some sort of former child prodigy turned adult wunderkid. After racking up more diplomas than most extended families collect, Spencer worked as a special agent for the FBI. But looking at him, you would never have guessed. He was timid and shy in a boyish way that made him seem much younger than 32. He was tall and lanky, yet despite his slender frame he seemed to completely light up every single room he walked into.

Both Betsy and Spencer buried themselves into the fabric of her life. Betsy sat on the front porch, slowly swaying on the large, wooden swing. A crocheted blanket lay over her lap, keeping her warm under the brisk morning’s chill.

“Y/N!” Betsy called, as she ascended the stairs with a bright smile, “Dearie, it’s far too cold for you to run out here.”

“I could say the same about you, Bets,”

Betsy dismissed Y/N with a coy smile and a wave of her hand. “It’s good for my old bones to get a little chill. Make sure everything is in working order.”

Betsy scooted over on the porch swing, making more than enough room for Y/N to sit.

“That tall kid? Hmm, Spencer? Yes. Spencer. Was in there looking for you yesterday. Poor kid’s entire day was ruined when I told him you were on a date. Now, is there a reason why you didn’t tell me you didn’t tell your best friend?” Betsy asked, not hesitating to ask a question that went straight for the jugular.

Y/N offered Betsy a weak smile. “There wasn’t anything to tell him. He’s not interested in my love life. We talk about books. And work. And… I don’t know…”

Betsy nodded, but her pointed look pressed Y/N to continue. There wasn’t anything romantic between her and Spencer, but that wasn’t to say the connection wasn’t the most important thing in her life. When she met him three years ago he simply waltzed into her life; a tall, gangly man with a large appetite for baked goods and an excellent taste in literature.

“Besides, he has a thing for his coworker. Even though she hardly acknowledges his existence.”

From the time she met Spencer, he constantly was talking about his teammates. Growing up, Spencer didn’t have a stable family life. His mother tried her best, while his father never tried at all. He grown up not knowing what it was like to belong anywhere and now he finally found something resembling a family.

JJ was blonde and skinny and perfect and Spencer was completely enamored with her. Y/N met her only a couple of times, the first after a football game. She shared a plate of cheese fries and gravy with Spencer’s other coworker, Penelope as Spencer attempted to spout an almanac’s worth of facts about football to JJ.

“Hmm,” Betsy murmured, swinging back and forth. “Well, he said he has to talk to you about something. Maybe he��s getting to his senses, finally.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, sipped some of the ice cold lemonade Betsy handed her, and gave her a pointed smile.

“This isn’t a romance novel, Bets. You’ve been sneaking too many of those bodice rippers.”

She stood up and felt some relief as her weary muscles stretched. Betsy waved another annoyed hand.

“Quiet down, Missy. I’ve had my chance at love. And I fully intend on you and Spencer being an item. My Arnold, may that old bastard rest in peace, never gave me children, so you and that boy are my only chance to fill this house with grandkids.”

“Oh my God, Betsy,” Y/N groaned, her head tossed back, “It’s not like that between us. And I promise you, it never will be.”

Y/N took off before Betsy had the chance to respond. But she couldn’t shake the funny feeling tugging at her heartstrings. She thought that maybe if she just focused her mind on feeling the wind blow her hair and her body burn as the third mile turned into a fifth, she could wash away the thoughts of one or two little children sitting on Betsy’s porch, sandwiched in between her and Spencer.

***

Gary, as it turned out, wasn’t a nice guy. First of all, he showed up precisely 23 and a half minutes late and hardly bothered to greet her as he sat down at their two seater table. He barked a drink order to the waitress, who graciously threw Y/N a sympathetic smile.

“So you work at Walter Reed?” Y/N asked, attempting to make conversation with the man seated in front of her. He was a couple years her senior and an Attending Emergency Room Doctor. On paper Gary seemed wonderful. He had a nice family; older sisters were always a green flag in Y/N’s book and seemed to have a basic grasp of personal hygiene practices.

Gary mumbled as the waitress brought him his drink: whisky on rocks. He downed it in about three minutes and signaled for the waitress to return.

“Sorry,” Gary apologized, his voice so close to resembling being embarrassed, but it, somewhere along the line, made a beeline in the opposite direction, “There was some bitch in the ER today complaining about how her boyfriend didn’t believe her when she told him she was pregnant. Took me a god damn hour to shut her up. Jesus, reminds me why I don’t date.”

Y/N felt her face freeze. It was like his harsh words poured ice water over her shoulders. Her skin practically crawled as Gary’s carelessness settled in. Wasn’t this a date? Or was this simply the means for Gary to get into her pants.

“Hold up,” Y/N said, gesturing with her hand held up to stop Gary’s rant, “I was under the impression this was a date. Is it not?”

Gary shrugged. “As long as there’s a happy ending with you, babe I don’t give a fuck.”

He was crass. Y/N was far from a prude. She enjoyed her time in college and didn’t mind the occasional quick one night stand when the opportunity presented itself, but there would be something completely debasing and revolting about sleeping with the man sitting before her.

“I think you’ve gotten the wrong impression.” Y/N said, her words clipped and stern: there wasn’t room for Gary to mix up any bit of her message. “I’m not looking for a fuck-buddy. And even if I was, it certainly wouldn’t be you. We’ve been sitting here for all of twelve minutes and you’ve already drank two whiskys, been rude to the waitress, insulted a patient, and offended me.”

Gary, in a lackadaisical way that could only be described as a fuckboy with the worst case of Peter Pan syndrome, shrugged his shoulders. He downed the rest of his second whisky, “You’re a frigid bitch anyway.”

He left.

And Y/N laughed. Then she ordered two slices of double chocolate cheesecake and asked the waitress where the closest liquor store was.

***

Silently, she cursed Spencer’s charming love of buildings with character. She bounded up the steps to his apartment, the plastic bag with the two slices of cheesecake banged against her leg. Her other hand clutched the neck of a cheap, screw top rose.

Her date, disastrous, was nearly comical, and she couldn’t wait to recount the details to Spencer.

They share a sort of sadistic penchant for relaying moments for their occasional first dates. Typically, Y/N had more than Spencer. On the rare occasion Spencer did have a date, Y/N found herself trying to explain that any girl in her right mind would attempt to flirt with Spencer, but he refused to see her points.

Not bothering to knock, Y/N opted to use the spare key Spencer gave her. She figured he’d either still be working at the office or would be too engrossed in his latest fantasy novel to bother answering the door.

Spencer’s apartment was painted a dusty, sage green. The farthest wall was lined with built-in bookshelves. A prewar relic, Spencer’s style mixed perfectly with the vintage quality embedded within the walls.

Up until recently, Spencer’s kitchen was hardly used. But Y/N had taken it upon herself to teach Spencer the basics in prepping meals. He was a quick study, as with almost everything he tried. And it gave her some peace knowing he would be able to provide himself something more satiating than granola bars and frozen lasagna.

“Spencer! Spence!” Y/N called out, dipping her head into Spencer’s second bedroom. There was a queen bed in there with a cream colored quilt splashed out on the bed.

On late nights spent watching old, black and white movies or binging episodes of The Twilight Zone and The X-Files, she would crash there. It was a fight for her to even concede to allow Spencer to purchase the queen bed. Y/N claimed that she was fine just sleeping on the couch, but Spencer insisted that she sleep in a bed.

And if Y/N had been born into a braver soul, she would’ve suggested they share his bed three years ago.

Spencer shuffled out of his bathroom, eyes red and weary. He wore a tattered Cal-Tech shirt and plaid pajama pants. He wore his glasses. They rested on the bridge of his nose and made him lose at least four or five years on his already young looking face.

“She’s pregnant.”

“I brought wine. And chocolate cheesecake.” Y/N replied, kicking her shoes off. “And you better have done laundry already because I am not sleeping in this dress. I feel ridiculous in it.”

Spencer’s eyes raked over Y/N’s frame, as if he was internally debating his thoughts on her outfit. His brow furrowed. “You’re date?”

“Asshole.” Y/N said, walking into the kitchen. She plucked two wine glasses from Spencer’s cabinet and two plates. “Arrogant and only wanted a quick fuck.”

His voice disappeared as he went into his room for a change of pajamas. They were freshly washed. She continued to listen to Spencer as she shut the bathroom door and changed behind. His voice was no longer muffled when she came out of the bathroom, but she did notice how Spencer’s eyes still were heavy with something unfamiliar when he looked over her baggy, old pajama-clad frame.

“You’re not the girl for that.” Spencer commented, reaching for the corkscrew. His large hands twisted around the device and the bottle of wine made a satisfying pop.

“You don’t know that.” Y/N countered, her defiance made a crop of red appear on Spencer’s cheeks. “Besides, that’s not the point. JJ’s pregnant. With that New Orleans guy’s baby?”

He nodded. It was as if grief washed over Spencer as Y/N changed the conversation. She knew that Spencer was harboring feelings for JJ. Jennifer was nearly perfect in every way. The only imperfect thing about her was that she didn’t realize how perfect Spencer was. He would’ve adored JJ if he got the chance. He nearly did.

“And how do you feel about that?”

Spencer groaned, pouring himself a healthy cup of rosé. “Unsure. It’s not like I’m going to confront her about this. She’s practically engaged to Will. And now there’s a baby in the picture? A baby who’s very well going to grow up seeing me as Uncle Spencer.”

He sounded exhausted. Y/N touched his hand and squeezed. She understood the pained loneliness that plagued Spencer’s voice. “I don’t love JJ anymore. It’s just, my whole life I felt like I was so far beyond my peers. And now? They all finally have caught up, this time the tables have turned. God, I’m excited when a girl smiles at me, let alone goes on a date with me.”

Weakly, Y/N smiled. She sipped her rose, “So it’s more of feeling like you’re far beyond in life? Despite having two PhDs and like three undergrad degrees? You’re one of the most accomplished men I know, Spencer. And we all move along at our own pace. Don’t compare JJ’s story to yours.”

He nodded, spooning a bite of the double chocolate cheesecake. “It’s just…I’m nearly 32. And now I’m watching JJ and Hotch and Morgan talk about babies and husbands and wives and houses. And I can’t help but wonder if I’ll be lucky enough to get that one day. Sometimes… I think I’m too me for anyone to fall in love with me.”

Y/N felt her heart shatter into a million little pieces as Spencer’s honest confession striked her entire system. She wanted to reach out and push away the stray curl that hooked itself in front of his eyebrow. She wanted to reach out and wipe away his tears. She wanted to tell her friend that if no one married him, she would.

She stalked off the to couch, needing a stable place to sit. Her chocolate cheesecake stuck to the roof of her mouth and the bitter rosé did nothing to remove it.

“Holy shit, Spencer. Do you not realize that you’d make any girl happy? You’ll find her one day, I know it. And if you don’t, we can just say fuck it and get married. I mean, I know it wouldn’t be romantic love, but we could at least live together. Through a big fancy party and get dressed up nice and getting drunk on mojitos with my best friend. My person? Sounds fun.”

“You mean that?” Spencer asked, half in disbelief and half in wonderment. “You mean that we’ll get married if neither of us have someone…say seven years from now?”

She must’ve drank more than she thought as she waited for Gary to ruin their date. “I meant it. But why seven?”

A smile toyed on Spencer lips. She noticed the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled.

“It’s my lucky number.”

Her lips were so loose that it threatened to crack open her heart. She had a nasty habit of wearing that on her sleeve.

She gave Spencer a sheepish look as his eyes met hers. He looked half between incredulous and hopeful. His fingers ran across the rim of his wine glass as the wine sloshed around. It mirrored Y/N’s stomach.

“Is this idea like bad shit crazy?” Y/N asked. “I mean it. I mean, why not. It’s not so different from what we do now. Just all the time. And I’d be thrilled to be spiritually required to spend more time with you.”

“Should we….shake hands or something. I’m not the biggest fan of that, but I think my wife would serve as an exception to the rule. To every rule I’ve got?”

Y/N laughed. She felt the wine creep up a nice, warm flush against her skin. It matched the light and easy way her limbs felt. It might have very well been the wine, but there wasn’t much of anything that could trump laughing with your best friend. Especially when that best friend slipped and called you his wife.

Her feet somehow ended up in Spencer’s lap. His thumb rubbed gently against her ankle, barely touching her bare skin. Yet it sent shockwaves that she didn’t quite understand.

The corners of Spencer’s eyes crinkled as he reciprocated that laugh. They shared it and Y/N had the strangest desire to bottle it up. She wanted to store this moment in her mind and come back to it. One day. Some day.

“We’ll get married,” Spencer started speaking as if it was a prophecy that he could set in stone, “if neither of us has anyone, we’ll enter this rather odd, rather complex, yet completely entirely normal and simple marriage in seven years?” His sweet, yet coy smile was boyish, it only reminded Y/N just how far away 35 was for her.

“Should we draft up a contract?”

“Have your lawyers contact my lawyers. I never sign documents without the proper legal support. In the meantime, could we settle on our first stipulation: never watching a new episode of our current favorite show without the other?”

“I agree to the terms and conditions you’ve set out.” Y/N said. She grabbed the blanket that rested on the back of the couch as Spencer turned off the lamp light.

“Oh and I washed the sheets in your room. I used the detergent you like. And your pajamas. The lavender vanilla one with the scent beads?” He flipped on an episode of The Twilight Zone.

She smiled from the way Spencer naturally called the guest room her bedroom. There was something very domestic and peaceful about him using her favorite detergent to wash the sheets in her room in his apartment. It resembled the exact something that she was craving: being taken care of.

She sipped her rose again, watching as her friend smiled at the gray scale painted on the screen. It was too bad she only had to weight over half a decade to feel it and not feel guilty and like she was lying to herself.

—

Taglist:

@reidsbookclub @boldlyvoid @mrs-dr-reid @reid-ingandweeping @candlesandsoftrain @foxy-eva @queermaxwooo

#spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction

419 notes · View notes

rowretro · 3 months

Text

𝔹𝕠𝕪𝕗𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕟𝕕?

✧warnings: fluff, slut shaming, kissing

♡synopsis: The bad boy Riki, has fallen for a rather girly girl, the kind of girl that many girls wouldn't expect guys to fall for. Y/n in her stylish outfits which were always admired by all, had the attention of Riki, and that seemed tick certain girls off.

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Riki groaned as he saw you walk down the hallway. One would assume it's because of how much you dress up just to go to school, or the supermarket. That's not the reason. Fuck he loves it, your style, your creative, the fact that half your accessories, or very pretty clothes were made by you. He loves that you're like a fresh wave of energy that suddenly brings a dry, dead, withering flowers, to life again. Sometimes, though, the boys love your outfits, for all the wrong reasons.

"Y/n for fucksake pull your skirt down!" Riki said, audible enough for just you to hear, he pulled you to himself. His eyes scanning the pink, delicate shimmer on your eyelids, Pretty, spikey eyelashes that were perfectly stuck on, Oh and how could he forget those glossy, kissable lips? a few, tiny iridescent hearts evident. Pink bows decorating your braided hair. "but why? it looks cute when it's short" she said, it's not like she was ever going to need to bend, she can't anyway, not with the 5 inch heels her feet carry around all day.

"You want to know what your outfit is missing? a nice leather jacket. Here have mine." He said, as he dressed you in his large leather jacket, ignoring your protests. You looked adorable in such a big jacket. You had no problem with leather jackets either, but this one specific Riki jacket made you look ridiculous. But there were people who had a bigger problem with it. Hwang Mihi.

Hwang Mihi would be described as a conventionally attractive, powder faced bitch. From her ridiculously rolled up short skirt, cakey makeup, and extremely bitchy personality. The girl had a problem with everyone and everything, specifically you. She's heard more people praise you than they praise her, you have more followers than her, and overall, you have the man she wants. Nishimura Riki.

"Rikiiii please~ it'll look good on you I swear!" you whined as Riki frowned. "I'm not wearing lipstick!" the man whined as you whined again "It's not a lipstick! it's a lip gloss stick it's not like you'll turn in to barbie with one swipe, idols wear this you know?" you reasoned as he sighed, leaning into you face. With a smile, you carefully applied the creamy, lip gloss stick, his eyes locked on your focused face, the close proximity making his heart beat faster than Usain Bolt ever ran. It fucking pissed Mihi off.

"How the fuck does a pink barbie carbon copy like you have MY man?!" She yelled, yanking at your braided hair, her tug so tight you had to bite her wrist to get out of her hold. "UGH U PASTE FACED FUCKER- U RUINED MY BRAID!" you yelled as suddenly a different person slapped the shit out of you. You could've sworn your brain left your body then entered it again. your head hit the wall behind you painfully hard, but as you pulled away to even process the first slap, you were painfully pushed up against the wall, and there before you was a much bigger male.

"You're such a pussy! you can't fight me yourself so you're using some guy who's dick you sucked?!!!" she asked, clearly knowing the man was one of the seniors that she used to be fwb with. Just for that, the male slapped her again, chocking her. "It's that fucking tongue isn't it?! If I rip it out you'll stop talking right?" Mihi asked as you frowned. "I have another way to silence her..." the male said with a smirk, his grip on your throat tightening as he tried to place his lips on hers.

Before his lips could even reach her lips, The male fell back, some of his teeth knocked out, his mouth bloody. "The fuck are you doing to my girlfriend?!!!" Riki asked as y/n stared at him in shock, heck even the girls were shook, they were fucking scared, never has Mihi ever seen her crush so pissed off, it was fucking scary. "J-just uh..." "Just what?! beating my future wife?! do u want to be scalped and dipped into lemon juice?!!!" He asked cracking his knuckles as the girl stuttered and ran off with her minions.

Riki didn't even get the chance to check on you, as your horrified scream filled the hallways. "Fuck y/n how bad did he hurt you?" he asked, kneeling down before you as you stared at your forehand in horror "MY NAIL SNAPPED! SO LONG OF HARD WORK BROKE JUST LIKE THAT." she exclaimed as Riki stood up, sighing. "I'll take that as a yes" he mumbled.

"Girlfriend? Future wife? what was that about?" you asked staring up at him as he smiled "I guess you called call it my confession..." he said as you frowned "Try again" you said as Riki snickerred "Y/n... I love you, and I want to fucking show you that everyday, so give me a chance baby" he said as you blinked. She felt her own blush, he's perfect, everything she needed, but never did she think your dream man would love you.

"Hmm but what if I don't want to?" you teased. as Riki helped you up "My sister knows a great nail tech, she's expensive but worth the price, how bout you treat your pretty hands for some prettier nails, and I'll pay all the expenses?" he asked as the girl pouted. "You don't need to bribe me like that... let me do it instead." You said, then kissed his lips, his eyes widening in shock as you smiled. "Lets skip school im gonna treat you to the best shopping spree you'd ever experience." He said as his arm snaked around your waist.

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sanguineterrain · 1 year

Text

it's a feeling that's fine - s.h.

Summary: You accidentally climb the wrong fence on the hottest day of May. It turns out to be the best thing that's ever happened to you.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Word count: 10.6k

Warnings/tags: no use of y/n, no physical descriptions, etc. reader is in a toxic friendship; she's slightly bullied in that indirect mean girl way, but the toxic friendship ends. reader cuts her finger by accident. drinking and drug mentions. fluff, humor, strangers to friends to lovers, summer vibes, so many princess bride references. steve is super duper sweet!!! post s4 volume 2.

A/N: so if you wondered where i've been for the last two months.... it was in a cave writing this fic. i'm really proud of this one; the reader is a little different than how i usually write, but i hope you'll like her all the same :) if you enjoy this fic, please please let me know through comments/reblogs!

divider by firefly-graphics

Today is hot.

Weatherman Dale had said this morning that today is a record high for May. It’s so hot, in fact, that Debbie Wellerman had called you this morning asking if you wanted to come swim in her pool.

You’d asked if you could dig for worms in her yard. She’d sighed and hung up. You hope that means yes. Joan has been in need of some company. Worms would be good for her.

You go around Debbie’s house and stop at the back gate. The Wellermans are kind of mean and they don’t like it when you take too many cucumber sandwiches. To avoid them, you’ve taken to going through the back gate whenever Debbie invites you over. It works pretty well.

Except today, the gate is locked. Which is weird, because Debbie usually leaves it open. It’s how her boyfriend, Brett, sneaks in during the day, and how Brett’s brother, Chet, sneaks in at night.

You’d asked once why the brothers come over separately. Debbie had gotten mad and kicked you out without giving you any ice cream. You don’t ask about Brett and Chet anymore.

The problem is that you’re wearing flip flops, which are not ideal for climbing fences. Or anything, really. You once climbed a jungle gym in flip flops and skinned both knees.

You slip off your flip flops and fling them over the fence. They land a second later, clapping against the ground. The fence is covered in climbing ivy and tiny red flowers you’ve never seen before. You wonder how Debbie made them grow so fast.

The street is empty, which is nice. Sometimes people in Loch Nora like to yell at people who don’t also live in Loch Nora.

The fence wood is hot but not so hot that you can’t touch it. You stick your feet in the little grooves and start to climb. It’s not too high of a fence, but it’s high enough to warn people who don’t belong here.

That’s never stopped you, though.

Getting over is trickier. You expect Debbie to see you by now, but there’s no sound. She must be inside, or maybe she’s out and forgot she’s invited you. She does that sometimes.

Wood dust clings to your fingers and the soles of your feet. When you’re a foot from the ground, you hop down. Then you turn.

There’s no sign of Debbie. There is, however, a boy.

He’s reclined on an inflatable blue ring floaty in the middle of the pool. He wears sunglasses and red board shorts with little white anchors on them.

He has very pretty hair, both on his head and chest. He also has pretty lips. And arms. All of him is pretty, really. You wish you could see his face properly. He probably has a nice face too. Symmetrical and kind.

The area around the pool is paved just like at Debbie’s—only it’s a lot larger than you remember. There's a patch of dirt next to the gate. You go and crouch at the edge. You don't see any worms. Probably because it's so hot. You'd stay underground too if you were a worm.

You stand and turn to look at the boy again. He looks like he might be asleep.

“Did Debbie invite you?” you ask.

The boy shoots up from the floaty. The shift in weight makes him lose his balance and he topples into the water a moment later. The floaty flips with him.

He resurfaces almost immediately, spitting water and rubbing chlorine from his eyes. You squint.

Yes, you were right. He does have a very nice face.

The water comes up to his waist. He pushes his hair back in handfuls, blinking. Then he fishes his sunglasses out with his foot and sets them on his head.

“Can you swim?” you ask.

He stares at you, blinking.

“What?” he says after a beat.

“Can you swim?” you repeat.

“Uh, yeah? Yes, of course I can swim.”

"It would be bad luck if you couldn’t.”

His brows furrow.

“Because I can't swim,” you clarify.

“I wouldn’t be in the pool if I couldn’t swim,” he says.

“That’s good thinking.”

You sit at the edge of the pool and dip your calves in. He wades closer until he’s about three feet away.

“How did you get here?” he asks.

“I walked.”

“I mean, how did you get in my backyard?”

“Oh. I climbed the fence.”

You peer closer. He looks familiar, but you can’t quite place him.

“Are you Brett and Chet’s triplet?” you ask. “You’re a lot prettier than them. Did their mother feed you extra vitamins?"

His eyes go wide. “Uh… Brett and Chet Kingsley?”

“Uh-huh. Debbie invites both of them over, but never at the same time.”

“Who's—they don’t have a triplet.”

“That’s good. Three’s bad luck.”

“My house number has a three in it,” he says.

“Don’t step on any sidewalk cracks,” you warn.

He tilts his head, tongue poking out like he’s sizing you up. You let him, focusing on his face instead. He has dark, warm eyes the color of black tea. His shoulders are toned with lots of freckles on them. He looks like a boy who’d like Debbie, not you.

“Is Debbie going to be back soon?” you ask. You don’t want to get attached to a boy who’ll just end up wanting Debbie instead. You've made that mistake before.

“Um… if you’re talking about Debbie Wellerman, she lives on the next block over. I’m Steve Harrington.”

“Oh. You’re the guy who fought the monsters.”

He eyes you warily. “Wh—how do you know about the monsters?”

"Who doesn't?"

Steve opens his mouth, then closes it.

“You can’t tell anyone," he finally says.

You shrug and kick at the water gently.

“I have no one to tell. Debbie doesn’t believe in monsters.”

“She doesn’t believe in giving you a key either, huh?”

“She doesn’t usually lock her gate,” you say.

“Well, this isn’t her gate.”

“Yeah. I like your shorts.”

Steve’s cheeks flush pink.

“Are you getting sunstroke?” you ask.

That turns his cheeks pinker.

“No, no." He coughs. "I’m fine.”

“It’s a record high temperature for May,” you say. “That’s what Weatherman Dale said. The highest it's ever been since 1923."

“Yeah, I heard." He nods. "I didn’t wanna run the AC the whole day so, here I am. My friend Robin was supposed to come over, but I guess she bailed.”

“Robin is a nice name. Is she a bird?”

Steve smiles. “No, she’s a girl.”

“Oh. I thought maybe she was a bird you’d made friends with while fighting monsters.”

“Well.” Steve shrugs. “I did sort of make friends with her while fighting monsters.”

“Robins are good omens. They bring luck."

“Huh.”

You swallow. You’re probably talking too much. That’s what Debbie would say. That’s why boys sneak into her yard and not yours.

"So." Steve puts a hand over his forehead to block the sun. "Debbie Wellerman, huh? You don't seem like the type to be her friend."

"Friends can come from the most unusual places," you say. "Like under a tree or at the bottom of the ocean."

"Have you made many friends at the bottom of the ocean?" Steve asks with a smile.

You hesitate. Is he making fun of you? Sometimes, you can't tell. The people in Loch Nora are good at making fun of you without you knowing.

Steve’s hair has already begun to dry, a little crunchy from the chlorine. He doesn’t look like he’s making fun of you.

"Not many. But that's where I found Joan," you say.

"Joan was at the bottom of the ocean?"

"Kind of. I found her in a pond. Then I found her sister, but I lost her at sea and I couldn't swim out to rescue her. It was a sad day. Joan didn't handle it well."

Steve's brows rise. "Wow. I'm sorry."

"It's okay. Joan has been on the incline. I think she's finally ready to get back out there. I wanted to find her company, but I didn't want to disturb your dirt."

“My dirt?”

“Mmhm. I'm trying to make a social club for her."

"Out of dirt?"

"Out of worms."

"Huh."

Steve rests his chin on his arm that's perched on the ledge.

"Your hair is wavy," you observe.

"What? Oh, yeah. I didn't put anything in it."

"Like what? Secrets?"

"No, like, gel. Product."

You nod in realization. "Your hair was so big in school.”

Steve winces. "Yeah. Sorry, I wasn't the best guy back then."

"You were in your chrysalis. You needed time to grow. But then you turned into a butterfly. Or a moth, if you prefer."

"Moths are spooky," says Steve. "They look like they have eyes on their wings."

"Yes. But they're actually friendly. Unless you eat them. Some are poisonous." You lean in, deadly serious. "Don't eat moths."

"Will do."

"No, don't. And warn your Robin too. She might think one looks delicious and meet her doom."

A smile creeps onto Steve's face.

"You're kind of strange," he says. "In the best way possible."

"Thank you."

"Do you want some lemonade?"

"Is it poisoned?"

"What?" Steve startles. "No, of course not."

"No, I suppose not," you say thoughtfully. "You hadn't expected me to climb over your gate, so you wouldn't have had time to poison the lemonade."

Steve stacks one arm atop his other, looking up at you. The ends of his hair have begun to curl. You like it so much.

"What if I pour from the pitcher right in front of you? Will that make you feel better?" he asks.

"You can still put something in my glass," you say. "Or you might have built a tolerance to the poison for this exact moment. Like in The Princess Bride."

"I'm only twenty-one. I would've had to start very young to build a tolerance. Besides, what would be my motivation to poison you?"

You shake your head. "There's no need for motivation. Violent delights. But you've fought monsters, and Lucas Sinclair says you're a good guy. So, yes, I will have some lemonade."

Steve pushes himself out of the pool with ease, dripping water all over the concrete. You stare at the rivulets that hurry down his legs and chest. He has a lot of hair everywhere. You like that too.

He offers his hand and you take it, letting him pull you to your feet. Your shoulder bumps his. Steve's skin is warm. He smells like chlorine and something sweeter. Pineapple, maybe.

"You would do very well as a knight," you say. "If I were a princess, I'd want you to commit yourself to me."

Steve makes a weird noise in his throat.

"Uh, th-thanks," he says.

"You're welcome."

"So you, uh, know Lucas?"

"Yes. He lives on my block. His mom gives me rides sometimes."

You step in through the sliding glass door, which puts you directly in the kitchen. The house is at least twenty degrees cooler. You shiver at the sudden temperature change.

"You don't have a car?" Steve asks.

"No."

"You walked from your house to Loch Nora?"

"I took the bus part of the way. Then I walked."

Steve takes two glasses down from the shelf. Then he opens the refrigerator. You sit at the large kitchen island while he pours.

"Debbie Wellerman has a car," Steve says.

"Uh-huh. A Porsche."

A money car, she'd called it when she got it for her sixteenth birthday. Boys love girls with money cars. Maybe that's why boys don't love you.

Steve hands you a glass. You take a long sip. Your mouth puckers and you scrunch your eyes shut as the acid coats your tongue.

"Shit. Not enough sugar?"

You swallow and open your eyes.

"It's wonderful, Steve," you say earnestly.

"You don't have to lie. I saw your mouth screw up."

"I'm not lying. It's the right amount of sour."

Steve takes his own sip. His lips pucker, and he shakes his head.

"Nope. Definitely needs more sugar."

You cradle your glass in your hands. "Don't take mine. She's perfect."

Steve breathes a laugh, returning the pitcher to the fridge. He sits beside you on the island. He's already developing a slight tan. You wonder if more freckles appear the longer he's in the sun.

"Why doesn't Debbie pick you up?" he asks.

"Why would she pick me up?"

"Because that's what nice friends do. And it's unfair to expect you to come all the way here when the buses don't go through Loch Nora."

"Debbie always expects me to come over," you say. "So I do. She doesn't like my house."

Steve frowns deeply.

"I don't mind the walk," you offer, trying to make him smile again.

It doesn't work. Steve takes another sip. His lips purse, red like cherry candy and shiny with lemonade.

"She should meet you halfway more often," he says, dumping his lemonade into the sink.

You trace shapes into the condensation of your glass.

"I wanted to go rollerblading," you say. "But…"

"But what?" he prompts.

"She didn't. Neither did Brett. They wanted to make out in the pool.”

Steve grimaces. “Sounds like a drag.”

“They make weird noises. Like goats at the zoo.”

Steve snorts. You smile and kick your legs, pleased.

“My friends go rollerblading,” he says. “The kids love to skate at the park. You could come with us one day.”

“You have kids?”

“No, I—” Steve shakes his head, chuckling. “Definitely not. No, they’re only a few years younger than me, but me and the other people our age call them kids. They’re part of our little monster-fighting group. Anyway, uh, y'know. Open invite. If you're ever tired of goat noises."

You stare at him for a minute. He seems nervous, and you can't make out why. Nobody's ever nervous around you.

"Okay," you say. "I'd like to meet your kids."

"Cool. Well, um, I can give you my number. We usually meet up on weekends, but once school ends, any day is game."

Your heart rate picks up. You know this part. Only from a distance, of course. But you know what it means when a boy gives a girl his number.

“You want me to call you?” you ask.

“Yeah. I mean, if you want to. I feel like it’s a little forward for me to ask the girl who climbed my fence for her number. So, um, you can call me. Is that cool?”

Steve looks at you and waits. You chew your lip and nod.

“That’s okay.”

He smiles. “Great! I think I have a pen around here somewhere…”

Steve walks around the table to a stationary caddy on the counter and takes out a blue Sharpie. You stick out your arm, palm up.

"Uh…" He looks at you. "I can find a notepad."

"This helps me memorize things better," you say and wiggle your fingers.

"I don't wanna give you ink poisoning."

"You didn't poison me before. You're not very good at it."

"Isn't that a good thing?"

You shrug. "Depends on your aspirations."

Steve hesitates for another second. Then he takes the top of your forearm and begins to write on the soft underside. He writes slowly, which tickles, but you remain still.

He's so close. You're reminded all over again of his hands and warmth and pineapple scent.

Steve caps the marker. You inspect the writing.

"Good penmanship," you say.

"Think so? Robin says it's chicken scratch. But she can't talk—hers is ten times worse."

"It's neat," you say. "But not serial-killer neat. If I were a graphologist, I would give you the all clear."

"Graphologist?"

"A handwriting expert. I would write in my report, 'not a murderer.'"

"Well, that's a relief," Steve says. "I try to keep the murdering to a minimum."

You hum and finish your lemonade in one gulp.

“Thank you for not poisoning me."

“Yeah, you’re welcome,” Steve replies through a smile.

His smile makes you nervous. A good nervous, though, like you're about to sled down a big hill.

You push yourself off the stool. Steve gets up with you and opens the sliding glass door for you.

“A very stalwart knight,” you say, and walk over to where your flip flops are.

You throw them back over the gate. They land with a clack on the sidewalk.

You find your footholds on the gate and turn to look at Steve.

“It was nice to meet you, Steve Harrington. Don’t fight any monsters by yourself.”

“Whoa, hang on!” He jogs over and lightly touches your arm. It sears your skin like you've been kissed by the sun himself. “I’ll unlock the gate. You don’t need to… climb again.”

Steve pulls the latch next to you. The gate creaks open. You hop off and walk through.

Steve leans against the gate, elbow bent. His bicep bulges. You've never been this close to a shirtless boy. Your stomach flips.

“Are you sure you know where Debbie lives?” he asks.

Your eyes dart from his chest to his face.

“Yes.”

“Really? ‘Cause you didn’t exactly find it the first time.”

“Second time’s the charm,” you say.

“I thought it was the third time.”

“No. Three’s bad luck, remember?”

Steve runs his tongue under his molars, once again staring at you like he’s trying to solve a puzzle. You slip into your sandals while he figures you out.

“Well, um. You can come back if you get lost. Or you need help. Or you wanna look for rocks."

You tilt your head. “You’d look for rocks with me?”

“I don’t know how helpful I’d be—all rocks look the same to me. My friends would probably be better at it than me. But, yeah, I would.”

“Okay. Thank you for your hospitality.”

He grins. “Sure thing.”

You take his hand and shake it. It’s warm and slightly calloused. You wonder if he holds girls’ hands often.

"I hope Robin finds your house," you say. "Goodbye, Steve Harrington."

Then you go.

You do find Debbie’s house on the second try. You hide your Sharpie'd arm behind your back when you enter. Debbie doesn’t ask why you’re late. Brett doesn’t acknowledge you, and you wonder how you mistook Steve for his brother.

“There’s lemonade,” Debbie says as she heads in, Brett at her heels.

You don’t drink any. You know it won’t be the right amount of sour.

Movies are better in the summer. This is a fact you've learned to accept.

There's no dread of the cold after you finish a movie in the summer. The tape ends and you can go outside and still love the real world.

Sorry, we're on a break! the sign on the store window reads in loopy script. You sit on the hot curb in front of Family Video, your yellow shorts bunched around your thighs. Sweat sticks to the back of your neck, and you drag a hand across, then wipe your fingers on your shirt.

From here, you can just see the cement-filled cracks in the asphalt, where the earthquake split the main road two years ago. Because of the cracks, the bus stops three blocks from the plaza, so you'd walked three blocks in the heat.

You hadn't been lying to Steve, though. You really don't mind the walk.

Beads of sweat drip down your forehead. One slips into your eye and burns. You make a fist and press it into your eyelid.

Okay. Maybe you mind a little.

"Hey, neighbor!"

You look up, squinting through the sun. Lucas Sinclair waves at you. You wave back. A girl with two red braids is next to him.

"Hi, Lucas," you say, standing as they approach you on the curb.

"This is my girlfriend, Max," he introduces proudly.

"My congratulations. Getting a girlfriend is no easy feat."

Max studies you for a moment. "I think I should get the credit, considering I said yes."

"Undoubtedly," you say.

"Are you his neighbor?" she asks.

"Yes. Lucas is an outstanding neighbor. You should be very proud of him."

"I believe it," says Max.

"What are you doing?" Lucas asks.

"Lots of things," you say. "Breathing, digesting. But presently, I'm waiting for the video store to reopen. I want to rent The Princess Bride.”

Max snorts. "Good luck with that. Those two take five hour lunch breaks now, ever since Keith moved away. It's barely a business anymore."

"There must be a lot of courses in their lunch," you muse.

"Yeah… uh, we're going to get ice cream. Wanna join?" asks Lucas.

"Okay." You turn to Max. "Will my presence impede your special plans?"

Max squints. "Special plans? Like what?"

"I don't know. Perhaps you've written Lucas a series of sonnets to profess your love."

"A series of what?"

"Poems."

"Love poems are corny," she says.

You wonder if Steve would agree.

"Sometimes corny things are good. When they come from the right person," you say.

Max acquiesces with a hum.

"No love poems today," she says. "You should join us."

So you follow a couple steps behind them to the Baskin-Robbins down the block.

The AC whooshes as you step inside, drying your sweat to your forehead.

“Wow,” Max says with a scoff. “It’s like Starcourt all over again.”

You follow her gaze and spot Steve.

Oh. Steve.

He's in a green Family Video vest. A girl sits across from him, wearing a matching vest. She has cropped hair and a bandaid on one knee.

“Hey, losers!” Max calls. “This isn’t a lunch break.”

The girl flips her off. “The sign says we’re taking a break. It doesn’t specify how long of a break.”

Lucas orders a scoop of strawberry ice cream for himself and a scoop of cookies and cream for Max.

“Yeah, plus, we’ve had a grand total of one customer today,” Steve adds.

“Well, you would’ve had two if you hadn’t been here on your seventeen hour break,” Max shoots back.

He scoffs. “Oh, really? Who?”

“Can I get one scoop of rocky road ice cream with oreo crumble and gummy worms in a cup?” you ask the cashier.

She goes to scoop the ice cream. Max proudly points at you.

“Her,” she says with a smirk. “She wanted to rent The Princess Bride, and now she’s not gonna be a paying customer ‘cause you two are lazy.”

“I would still be a paying customer,” you say.

Max shakes her head at you.

“I’m trying to make a point,” she whispers.

“Oh. You’re doing great."

“Your total is three twenty-four,” the cashier says, sticking a spoon into your cup.

The sound of a chair being dragged across the floor draws your attention. Steve is up, trying to free his leg from under the table. He finally wiggles free and jogs to the counter, wallet in hand.

"Hi,” he says. "I can pay."

“But I have money,” you say, brows knitting.

“No, I know. I—now you can save your money. Do you–do you mind if I pay for you?”

“Will I have to pay you back?” you ask.

“Oh my God,” the cashier mutters under her breath.

You shrink at her tone. You've missed something, evidently. You have no clue what.

Steve glances at her, mouth pinching.

“No,” he says gently, turning back to you. “You don’t have to pay me back. It’s a gesture. As a friend.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Steve gives her the money. You take your ice cream.

“Smooth,” you hear Max say to Steve. He bumps her arm with his elbow.

Steve pulls a chair from another table for you. You all sit down.

"This is, uh…" Steve trails off, turning to you. "I'm sorry, I never got your name."

"You kept calling her Buttercup," the girl says.

Steve whips his head around to hiss at her.

"Robin."

"She's my neighbor," Lucas says.

"We know," Max tells him.

"I don't." Robin raises her hand briefly, shooing Steve away. "I'm Robin Buckley."

"Hi, Robin. Watch out for moths," you say.

She tilts her head and smiles. You look at Steve, who's already looking at you.

"Princess Buttercup?" you ask.

"Well." He rubs the back of his neck. "Y-Yeah, kinda. You mentioned The Princess Bride and, uh, I don’t know your name, so…”

You mull that over.

"If I'm Buttercup, you must be Westley."

Steve's eyes widen. "Uh…"

Robin snickers. Max smirks.

"Interesting shade of red you're turning, Westley," Robin says.

"Shut—"

He kicks her chair leg. She yelps and shoves him in retaliation. Max rolls her eyes.

"Have some class, will you?" she says.

"I'm classy!" Steve insists.

"Not anymore," Lucas says gravely. "Now you're a glorified babysitter."

"Childcare is dutiful work," you say.

Steve grins at you. Your stomach flutters.

“Is that a mud pie?” he asks.

You nod.

“Gummy worms?”

You tilt your head. “How did you know?”

Steve chuckles. “Lucky guess.”

Across the table, the others argue about the classiest ice cream flavors.

“It’s obviously mango sorbet.”

“Sorbet isn’t ice cream!”

“Are they your kids?” you ask.

Steve leans in so you can talk in his ear. His arm is on the back of your chair. If you shift the slightest inch, you’d feel him.

“Minus Robin. Though, sometimes…” He rolls his eyes playfully. “But, um, yeah. Two of them.”

“How many kids do you have?” you ask.

“Let’s see…” Steve counts on his fingers. “Six?”

“Wow. You must be some babysitter.”

“I’m alright.”

You lean in. Steve blinks.

“What’re you doing?” he asks.

“You have an eyelash.”

You swipe the hair off his cheek and hold your finger in front of his mouth.

“You have to make a wish.”

Steve’s eyes slide to you. He gently holds your hand in place. Your heart beats faster.

“‘Kay.” He blows the eyelash away, but doesn't release your hand. “Let’s see if it comes true.”

The numbers stare at you. Taunt you, really.

You practically have them memorized. You’d written them thirty times on a piece of notebook paper. Then you’d shoved that under your bed.

Now you have it taped to your dresser mirror.

You wish you could talk to Joan about it, but she’s bathing in the sink after an unfortunate encounter with a paint can.

The Sharpie is gone from your arm, has been gone for several days now. But if you concentrate, you can see its silhouette on your skin.

You get up and peel the paper off the mirror. Then you go down the hall to your phone.

Carefully, you dial, making sure not to press any wrong buttons.

The phone rings. You rock on your toes.

“Hello?” Steve says.

You freeze.

“Hellooo…?”

“Hi,” you finally say. “It’s Buttercup.”

“Oh!” He sounds so happy. “Hey! Hey, how are you?”

“Good.” You chew on a cuticle. “It’s Saturday.”

“Oh, right! Did you wanna go rollerblading?”

Relief floods you. He remembers.

“Yes. If you’re planning it.”

“I haven’t talked to the kids, but I’m sure they’d be down.” You can hear the smile in his voice. “I can pick you up in twenty?"

“I can walk.”

“C’mon, in the sun? You live on the same street as Lucas anyway, don’t worry about it.”

“Well.” You twirl the telephone cord around your finger so tightly, it threatens to cut off your circulation. “Okay… if it’s no trouble.”

“It’s no trouble,” Steve promises. “I’ll see you in a bit, okay?”

You hang up and run to your room to dig for your skates. They’re stuffed under your bed next to a mini gumball machine. You shove two green gumballs in your mouth and race to the bathroom to check on Joan, nearly slipping on the wood.

“I’m going out, Joan. I think he might… he might like me.” You crunch on the gumball shells and shudder. “What a terrifying thought.”

You pull out the drain stopper and set Joan on a washcloth to dry. Then you go down the hall to put on your sneakers.

Steve arrives five minutes early. You only know that because you spend the whole time watching the road from your curtained window. You shake your hands out, overwhelmed with nerves.

It’s just a boy. He’s only a boy.

The two of you meet halfway. Steve jogs backwards, unusually skillful, and opens the passenger door for you.

“Hey. Does Joan want to come?” Steve asks.

You shake your head. “She’s having a spa day. It’s just me.”

“Well, I’m happy to have you,” he says, sweet and earnest.

You duck inside the car and shake your hands a little, trying to fend off the returning nerves. Just a boy.

“So, that’s El,” Steve says as he gets into the driver’s seat, pointing to a girl with short curls. “And you know Max and Lucas.”

Max nods at you with a smile. Lucas waves.

“Hi, El,” you say. “Cool hair.”

“Thank you,” she says, voice soft. “I like your skates.”

“I found them at a yard sale. You can find anything in a yard.”

"Okay," Steve says. "Everybody buckled?"

“Yes, Mom,” Max mumbles.

Steve catches your gaze and rolls his eyes. You smile.

Briefly, you worry you’ll have to fill the silence and talk about yourself, like people expect you to. But Steve and the kids hold conversation easily. They talk about anything and everything.

They're more energetic than you're used to; Debbie always prefers it to be quiet.

But you don't mind it. You don’t feel lonely like you do when you’re with Debbie.

“Alright, please stay within this area,” Steve says when he parks and everyone gets out. “Within—”

“Shouting distance!” Max yells. “Yeah, we know!”

The park isn't crowded. Most of the paths are clear, so skating will be no problem.

Max gets out two skateboards from the trunk.

“Max is going to teach me how to do an ollie,” El informs you. “Would you like to join us?”

“Maybe later,” you say. “I want to master my yard skates.”

She nods and follows the others to the small skate park on the other side of the trees.

You bring your skates to a bench and sit, lacing them up your feet. Steve is a few feet away, swinging his arms slightly.

“Aren’t you going to join them?” you ask.

“Oh, uh, no. I brought my own skates… I thought maybe we could skate together, if that’s okay?”

“Yes, I would like that,” you say.

Steve beams. “Alright, cool. I’ll go get mine.”

You stand, about to take a step forward—and immediately slip.

Steve reacts instantly, lunging to catch you. One hand grabs your elbow, the other on your stomach. You squeal and cling to his shirt.

“Are you okay?” he asks, helping you stand upright.

“I’m okay,” you say, breath caught in your throat.

You take a step but your foot wobbles. Steve grabs you again. You don’t try to take another step.

“I thought skating would be intuitive,” you say, rolling one skate to test.

“What?”

You look up. Steve’s face is inches from yours. His hair is golden in the sunshine. His eyes lock on your own; his focus sends a jolt of electricity down your spine.

“You know, like how babies are able to swim for the first six months of their lives?”

“Uh…” Steve tilts his head. “No?”

“Oh. Because they were in the womb, they have that ability. ‘Cause they float around in there for nine months, you know? But then they lose it. That’s why we have to learn how to swim.”

“Wow. That’s a cool fact.”

Nobody ever thinks your facts are cool. But Steve does.

“Well, I thought skating would be similar,” you say. “I’ve watched other people skate, so I thought I’d just… do it. I guess I lost that at six months too.”

Steve’s smiling. It’s a gentle smile, though. Not a teasing smile.

“I see,” he says. “I’m sorry for your disappointment.”

“It’s alright. Life is far more than disappointment. No use getting hung up on it.”

“Do you want me to teach you how to skate?” he asks. “I promise I’m good at it. Coach Collins said I could’ve seriously pursued it.”

“So skating for you is like avoiding death for Westley,” you say.

“Actually, I’m pretty good at avoiding death too,” Steve says. “And making grilled cheeses.”

“Triple threat.”

He ducks his head with a laugh, and you feel the warmth of it flow through your own body.

“Sure. Can’t make lemonade for shit, though.”

“I think your lemonade is perfect, Steve Harrington.”

His cheeks are scarlet again. It’s quickly becoming your favorite color.

“I would like it if you taught me,” you say.

“Okay. I’ll get my skates after you get the hang of it. Put your hand on my arm, right here.”

Steve pats his forearm. Carefully, you do as he says.

“I’m nervous,” you confess.

“I got you,” Steve says, cheek brushing your head. “I won’t let you fall, Buttercup.”

Saint Aloysius’ parking lot has the best rocks.

You've never told anybody as much because you imagine the lot would get busy, and you like it empty.

Today, you're searching for a brother for Joan. Ever since that tragic day at Macinaw Island, Joan's been very lonely. It‘s hard being a sisterless sister.

Joan is smooth and round, so you look for an equally smooth and round brother. Commonality is important.

Your knees hurt from squatting, so you sit. The rocks poke your butt.

You hear a car rolling up the hill, engine a soft purr. You stop and turn.

The car is maroon and shiny, with only a couple slight scratches you can't notice unless you look really hard. You don't recognize the license plate, although you have yet to start your record of Hawkins plates.

It putters to a stop in front of Giovanni's Bakery across the street. The car doors open.

"I'm losing my edge, Robs! I made a damn fool of myself. I can't even—"

"Okay, first of all, I feel like we're glossing over the fact that you don't even know this girl. And what she did was technically trespassing."

"Do you know her name?" another voice pipes up.

"No, Dustin, I don't know her name. I don't even know if she lives in Hawkins!"

Their voices disappear as they go inside the bakery. You find Joan a brother, Jack, and Jack finds a wife named Gwen. Gwen isn't smooth and round; she's sharp-edged and will be harder to clean, but she's a muted salmon color and you think she's pretty. You hope Jack will find her pretty too.

As you dig through the pile of rocks, your finger catches on the edge of a broken bottle. It slices your finger. Blood swells immediately.

You put your new rocks in your plastic red pail with your other hand. Then you stand, joints popping as you do so. You stick your ribs out and bend your spine in a stretch.

You cross the street to the bakery, pail in hand. The bell jingles as you enter. You hum the ding-dong under your breath.

"Can I help you?" the man behind the counter asks.

"Hello. Can I have five baci di dama and five of the raspberry sandwich cookies?"

He goes to the display case with a paper bag. You rest your elbows on the counter, pail handles over your arm.

"Anything else?"

"Yes. Do you have a bandaid? I'm bleeding."

The man purses his lips. "No bandaid, sorry."

"That's okay. Just the cookies, then."

"Buttercup?"

You turn. Steve stands before you, wearing his Family Video vest. Robin is beside him, her hair piled into a windblown bun on her head. Another boy, shorter than both, younger, is with them. He waves at you, curls bouncing.

You wave back. Robin squeals.

"Oh my God, what happened to your finger?" she asks, horrified.

"There was a broken bottle in the parking lot."

"Jesus," Steve says. He takes your hand and inspects it. He's so close and warm. All you can do is stare at the freckles on his neck.

“Why were you in the parking lot?” he asks.

“I was looking for rocks. This is the best rock spot in all of Hawkins. Well, after Lover’s Lake. But the pH has been abnormally high there. Probably because of the monsters. So I came here.”

"Hi, I'm Dustin," the boy introduces. “Is your finger okay?”

"Hi, Dustin. I think I’ll survive,” you say. “Dustin means brave warrior in Norse.”

Dustin beams. “Yup. I was named after my grandfather. He served in World War Two.”

"Names are important,” you say. “Joan agonized for days deciding what I should call her. Eventually, I decided for her. A name says a lot about a person. Steve has a warrior and good luck at his side."

"Yep, Steve-o here is pretty blessed to have us. And," he gestures to you, "You are?"

"Hungry," you say, taking your bag of cookies with your free hand.

The bag crinkles as you open it. You hold it out to Steve.

"Do you want one? I promise they’re blood-free.”

"Uh…” He glances at your hand. “Are you sure your finger is okay?”

“She’s a trooper. Survived ink poisoning and everything.” You wave the bag again. “Cookie?”

Steve takes a baci di dama out and pops it into his mouth. He hums as he chews, nodding.

"'S good," he says after he swallows.

"Baci di dama means lady's kisses in Italian," you say.

His cheeks turn pink again.

"You should drink more water," you add. "You turn pink easily."

Robin snorts. Steve holds a hand to his cheek.

"Uh, thanks."

“You’re welcome. Robin, would you like a cookie?"

"No, thanks,” she says. “I'm picking up a tiramisu for my mom's birthday."

"I want a cookie!" Dustin says.

"Dude," Steve hisses.

You hold the bag open to Dustin. He takes a raspberry sandwich cookie.

"So," Dustin says, mouth full. "Are you Steve’s girlfriend or something?”

“Not that I’m aware of,” you say.

“Du-ude!” Steve says too loudly, voice climbing in pitch.

“What? You talk about her all the freakin’ time. I needed to know.”

You look at Steve. He rubs the back of his neck and half-smiles.

“Anyway,” continues Dustin. “How do you know Steve?”

"I climbed over his gate by accident on the hottest day of May,” you say.

"By accident?"

"Yes. All the gates in Loch Nora look the same. Except Steve's gate has climbing ivy and little red flowers. It's much nicer than the other houses. It looks like a person lives there. I mistook it for Debbie's gate."

Robin tilts her head at you. You don't care what Steve says; she's a one hundred percent bonafide bird.

Dustin points to your pail, crumbs all over his chin. "Why do you have rocks?"

"They're for Joan," you say.

"Joan? Is she your friend?"

"She's more like my confidante. She doesn't talk much, so I think it'd be presumptuous of me to call her a friend when I have no idea where we stand."

"Navigating friendships can be hard," Steve offers.

"Yes," you say. "They can be."

"Being straightforward can help a lot," he continues. "It, uh, at least helped me. That way the other person knows what you mean. No room for miscommunication."

You nod. "That's good advice. I'll have to try that with Joan. Sometimes she can be kind of hard-headed."

You roll up your bag of cookies and reposition your pail on your arm so the metal doesn't dig into your skin.

"It was nice to meet you, Dustin," you say. "Goodbye, Steve and Robin."

"Wait!"

Steve holds the door for you and follows you out. He still smells sweet, like pineapple, and also a little woody. He touches the small of your back, sending a bolt of electricity down your spine.

"I have a first aid kit in my car. Let me wrap your cut."

"Oh." You'd forgotten about it. "Okay."

You follow Steve to his car. He pops the trunk and rummages. You spot a bat with nails.

"Very inventive," you say, pointing at the bat.

Steve laughs shyly. "Yeah, uh, the monsters."

"I definitely wouldn't want to fight you if I were a multi-dimensional monster."

He smiles and takes out a small spray bottle of disinfectant.

"This is gonna sting, okay? But we need to make sure nothing gets infected."

"An infection would be unfortunate," you say. "I'm quite attached to this finger."

He sprays and cleans your finger. You wince and Steve squeezes your wrist in apology. Then he pulls out bandaids.

"Any preference? I have rainbow, Star Wars, 'cause they're all a bunch of nerds, cats… oh, I have flowers! ‘Cause you’re, uh, Buttercup, you know?"

"Flowers," you say, because Steve's so excited about it.

He nods and opens the bandaid. You hold out your finger and Steve carefully wraps it. He rubs your knuckle.

"Thank you," you say.

"You're welcome. Be careful, okay?"

"I will."

He closes the trunk, swinging his keys on his finger.

"Sorry if that was awkward, by the way," he says. "Dustin, I mean. He can be… blunt."

"It wasn't awkward."

“It wasn’t?”

“No,” you say. “I’m happy you tell people about me. I tell Joan about you all the time.”

"Oh." He nods. "That—that’s good. So… we’re both… uh—”

"Do you want another lady's kiss?"

"What? Oh—" Steve clears his throat. "N-no, that's okay. Thanks."

You take out a raspberry cookie and bite into it.

"Your hair has product," you observe.

"Yeah. No secrets, though."

"Everybody's hair has secrets."

"Even yours?" he asks.

"Especially mine."

Steve rubs the back of his neck. You open your bag and take out another cookie. He looks like he's trying to find the right words to say. You don't mind waiting.

"Hey, do you like barbecue?" he asks.

"I like it as well as anybody else."

"Well, um, I'm having a barbecue this Saturday. Lucas won a big championship game and so we're celebrating his win."

"That's nice," you say. "Congratulations to Lucas."

"Yeah! So, um, did you maybe want to come too? It'll be at my house. You could bring a friend if you wanted. Like Joan."

"Joan is a vegetarian," you say. "But I'm sure she'd enjoy the company."

Steve smiles. He has such a pretty smile.

"We're ordering pizza too, so Joan can have some of that."

"You're a very thoughtful host.”

Then you have a terrible thought. But you have to ask it because if you don't, you might be breaking some kind of invisible expectation. You do that a lot.

"Does Debbie have to come?" you ask.

Steve blinks. "Uh, no? It's not a requirement."

"Some people ask me to parties because they want Debbie to come."

Steve frowns. "That's rude. I wouldn't do that."

"Okay. What time does the barbecue begin?"

"You can stop by anytime. But we'll probably start eating around six."

You nod. "Joan and I will be there at five thirty."

Steve's answering grin is blinding. He must be really excited to meet Joan. You get it; Joan's the life of any party she attends.

"Great, that's great. I'll see you then."

"Bye, Steve," you say.

"Bye," he answers like he's out of breath.

Even the way he breathes is pretty.

Every month, Miles Stanwick throws a party.

Miles is a celebrity in Hawkins, his father being a state senator, and Miles is, according to a drunk Debbie, “the Gatsby to her Daisy.”

You're pretty sure Debbie hasn't read the book. Or maybe she's a living tragedy. Either is possible.

It had been just you two in her room, without the Other Debbie she pretends to be to impress the people of Loch Nora, when she'd told you what it meant to be in love.

"You just know," she'd said, her breath reeking of tequila.

You'd turned your head. Tequila made your nose itch.

"But you love Brett," you'd said.

"Brett is who I'll marry," she'd corrected. She’d sounded so sad. "Miles is all I've got."

Then she'd thrown up all over her carpet. You'd helped her into bed and made a mental note to find her a friend like Joan to keep her company, for when you weren't around.

You don't like parties. They're loud and smelly and usually filled with people you don't like or don't know. And at a party, people you don't like and people you don't know are one and the same.

You would leave, but Debbie is your ride tonight. So you're stuck here until midnight, maybe even later.

Someone plugs in a karaoke machine and that gets most of the party's attention. The music is horribly loud and is the kind that’s just a lot of synthesizer.

A guy jumps onto the Stanwicks' coffee table and knocks over the potpourri dish. Dried petals and orange peels scatter across the carpet.

Debbie appears in front of you, a red Solo cup in her hand.

"What did I bring you here for?" she asks, mouth curled. "To slump on the couch?"

"No one here wants to talk," you say.

Debbie rolls her eyes. "Parties aren't for talking. They're for drinking and making out. Someone's rolling a blunt in the den. Go suck on that, will you?"

The people in Loch Nora are so good at making you feel two inches tall. You wish you'd brought Joan. She'd know what to do.

You've tried alcohol before. Champagne at a wedding. A sip of rum from the Wellermans' liquor cabinet, back when Debbie wasn't so caught up in being just like everyone else.

Maybe it's your fault, too. Maybe you're too good at standing out.

You go to the kitchen. It's already trashed. You step over a spill on the floor. Then you turn around and lay down some paper towels so no one will slip.

There are various bottles of strong liquor strewn across the counters. You decide to try the punch and fill your cup to the top. You sniff it and your nose wrinkles at the whiff of alcohol.

You so badly want to have fun. You want to know what makes all of this worth it. You want your friendship with Debbie to be worth it.

You down the punch in one go. It makes you cough and you scramble for water at the sink. You wonder if the punch is poisoned.

You wobble out of the kitchen a couple minutes later, head already woozy. A girl stands with a drink, one arm folded.

"Where's Debbie?" you ask. The girl winces and steps away from you.

"She went with Miles and some other people to the lake."

Your eyes widen. "No, they can't. There's monsters."

She looks at you like you might be an insect splattered on her dashboard.

"You're Debbie's weird friend, aren't you?"

Weird doesn't make you feel good, like Steve calling you strange did. Weird makes you feel like when a boy in sixth grade stepped on your heels while going up the stairs because he thought it was funny.

"Debbie would've told me," you say.

The girl shrugs. "Guess she ditched you. She can't score with Miles if you're killing the vibe."

Weird tastes like poison in your mouth.

"Debbie was my ride," you say, but she’s already gone.

Your head aches. You try to think on what to do next. It's nearly midnight. No one is awake, and you have no idea how to call a cab.

You find the Stanwicks' phone in the hall and dial the only number you know, besides your own, and the local pizzeria.

"Hello?"

You lean against the wall, phone in both hands.

"Uh, hello? Who is this?"

"H-hi, Westley." Your voice cracks.

"Hey," Steve says, unbearably gentle. "My favorite rock girl. Jesus, it's… midnight."

"I'm sorry," you say.

"No, no, it's alright. I'm just—is everything okay? Are you okay?"

"Debbie ditched me."

Silence. For a moment, you panic that the line's dropped.

"Steve?"

"Where are you?"

"I'm, um, at Miles Stanwick's. The address is… well, I don't remember, but I'll go outside and look for the house number—"

"I know it," Steve says. "Stay right there. I'm coming to get you. Don't drink any more."

Your lip wobbles. "'Kay."

"It's okay," he soothes. "Drink some water. Don't take anything from anybody."

"I just wanted to be fun," you blurt.

"You are fun, Buttercup. Way more fun than anybody at that house, I guarantee it. I'll be there in ten minutes, okay?"

"Okay. Thank you, Steve," you say, no longer feeling so small.

You hang up and go to the kitchen to get more water from the sink. Then you return to the hallway and sit, back against the wall, knees tucked into your chest.

You doze, lids heavy from the alcohol. The next thing you know are two hands on your arms.

You jolt awake. One hand cradles the back of your head so you don't thump it against the wall.

"Hey, hey." Steve kneels in front of you. He brushes your cheek with a cool knuckle. "It's me, it's Steve. Are you okay?"

His hands are cool against your overheated skin. He smells like lemon shampoo.

"My knight," you say.

"I thought Westley was a pirate."

“He was only pretending."

You let Steve ease you up. His car keys dig into your hip.

"Ow," you say dazedly.

"What? What hurts?"

"Keys."

"Oh." Steve shifts you to his opposite side, hand on your back. "Sorry, honey."

"Honey never spoils," you say. "Did you know that? You could dig up honey from a tomb that's thousands of years old and as long as it was stored in an airtight container, it's good to eat."

"I love that you know that."

"Do you really?"

"I really do," Steve says. "C’mon, let's get you home."

Outside, the moon is a dot of cream in the purple sky. The neighborhood is quiet. Most of the houses are also dark.

"I'm sorry for calling you so late," you say.

"Don't be. I'm glad you called me. These parties can get out of hand."

"Debbie left. She went to Lover's Lake with Miles—"

The panic returns, flooding your body. You squirm and Steve tries to keep you steady.

"Whoa, what's—"

"The monsters! There's monsters down there, Steve. I don't like Miles, but I don't want him to be eaten!"

"No, no, no more monsters," Steve assures you. "They can't come through there anymore."

You still. "Promise?"

"I promise."

He helps you into the passenger seat of his car. Steve leans in and pulls the seat belt over you.

"Comfy?" he asks.

"I like you so much, Steve Harrington."

It's too dark to tell, but you suspect he's got another case of sunstroke.

"I, um, like you too, Buttercup. You're really cool."

"Me?" You wave your hand. "No."

"Really," he insists. "You are. The coolest."

If you were Debbie, if you weren't weird in the wrong way, if you didn't go to parties to talk, and if you fit a million other criteria you never will, Steve would kiss you right now. Or maybe you'd kiss him.

But you don't know how to go about that. You don't think it's your right to do such a thing.

So Steve shuts the door and walks around to the driver's seat. You stare at your flower bandaid.

"Four three's," Steve says as he turns the ignition.

You turn your head. "Hmm?"

"The house number. Four three's. That's gotta be, like, astronomically bad luck, right?"

"Without a doubt."

Except you're here with Steve Harrington, and he calls you honey and thinks you're cool. And that doesn't seem like bad luck at all.

"I'm going to a barbecue," you call out.

There's no reply. You close the door behind you.

Joan sits in your pocket. You've tied a purple ribbon around her head, right above her googly eyes. You don't know what the dress code is for a barbecue, but you hope she's not underdressed.

You haven’t spoken to Steve since Miles’ party. You’re not sure what you should say, and you can’t bear the thought of calling him to hear silence.

Even if he doesn’t like you the way you like him, you hope he’ll still be friends with you. Steve and his kids have grown on you. You don’t know if you can go back to who you were before the hottest day of May.

“Material Girl” plays from inside Steve's backyard. You mouth the words as you fling your flip flops over the gate.

"What the fuck?" someone says from the other side.

You climb the gate and shimmy down. It's a good thing you're wearing shorts under your dress.

A boy, lanky and tall but probably Lucas's age, holds one of your flip flops. He stares at you and shakes the shoe.

"Is this yours?"

"Both of them are," you say. "Does Steve like Madonna?"

He grimaces. "Unfortunately."

"Cool."

You spot Steve sitting on one of the deck chairs with Robin and a boy your age with big, curly hair and a Led Zeppelin shirt with cropped sleeves.

"Venus" plays next and you wobble in time with the music as you walk over to Steve.

"Her weapons were her crystal eyes," you whisper. The pavement is warm under your toes.

"Making every man mad."

Steve turns just as you reach him. He stands so fast he shakes the chair.

"Hey!" he says. He sounds out of breath again. "Hey, you came."

"You invited me," you say.

"Yeah, yes." Steve nods. "I did. I'm glad you're here."

"You play good music."

"Ha!" Steve whips his head to look at the curly haired boy. "Suck it, Munson."

"She's obviously biased."

"Munson," you say. "Eddie Munson?"

Eddie freezes under your gaze. Robin and Steve glance at you.

"Yeah, uh, that's me." Eddie smiles weakly. "Look, you might've heard some stuff abou—"

"You helped fight the monsters," you interrupt. "You're very brave."

Eddie's eyes widen. "I—"

"Most people just like to ignore monsters. It takes a really good person to fight them." You turn to Steve. "Do you have orange Fanta?"

"Yeah, sure. I'll get you a can. Feel free to sit… where are your shoes?"

You point behind you. "Your bodyguard had to screen them after I climbed your gate. You have very tight security."

"After you climbed my… wait, Mike? God, I’m sorry about him. I'll get your shoes back."

"It's okay. Flip flops are dangerous weapons. It's only a matter of time before the airport bans them."

Steve tilts his head, eyes warm. "Right. I'll be back. That's Eddie and Robin… you know them."

"I know their names, and that's about all you can know about anybody."

Eddie giggles. You look at him. He doesn't seem to be laughing at you, so you sit where Steve was sitting, across from Eddie's chair. You point at his shirt.

"I like Kashmir."

"Thank God! Somebody with decent tastes."

"I'll listen to anything," you say. "It's important to be a good listener."

Eddie grins. "Words of the wise."

"Where's Joan?" Robin asks.

"Right here." You take Joan out of your pocket and set her down on the edge of the pool chair.

"Sick," Eddie says.

You nod. "The ribbon was my pick."

"I like it," Robin says.

"Thank you."

Steve returns with an orange Fanta for you and a root beer for Robin.

Robin points to Joan. "Steve, this is the famous Joan we've heard so much about."

"That's a rock," says Steve.

"Yep."

"Oh." He nods in understanding. "Joan is your pet rock?"

"Confidante," you correct. "’Pet’ is demeaning."

"Got it. And was Joan's sister also your confidante?"

"No. Joan's sister didn't like me much. She thought I was a bad influence on Joan. But we shouldn't talk about it now. Joan gets very sad when I bring it up."

You open your can. The carbonation hisses. It's itchy and sweet on your tongue.

"I like your hair," you say. "It's fluffy. Like it was on the hottest day of May."

Steve pushes a couple strands behind his ear.

"Thanks. The gel is too much on hot days like these. Weighs me down."

"At least you won't float away." You look at Eddie. "Is your hair full of secrets too?"

Eddie ruffles his hair. "Not as many as Steve's, but I've got a couple in here. 'S what gives my curls volume."

"Hm. Just as I suspected," you say.

"Ste-eve!" Dustin whines from across the yard. "You promised burgers!"

Steve rolls his eyes. "You'd think he's never been fed in his life."

Eddie pats his shoulder. "You've got this, Harrington."

"Oh, no. You wanna eat, you've gotta earn your keep. Come on."

Eddie groans, flinging himself off the chair. "Save me, Buckley!"

"Already did that," she says, pulling her sunglasses onto her eyes. "Never again."

"You should tie up your hair so it doesn't catch fire," you suggest.

"Well, at least somebody cares about me," Eddie declares, pulling his hair into a ponytail.

Steve turns to you and smiles softly.

"Are you hungry? You can have the first pick of the burgers."

"Won't Dustin be annoyed?"

Steve shrugs. "Kid could use some manners. Besides, pretty girls always get the first pick. It's the law."

You follow Steve and Eddie to the grill, pretty girl echoing in your brain the whole time.

Eddie's hair doesn't catch on fire and Steve makes you a perfect burger. The sun sparkles on the pool surface. The kids come out to eat and, predictably, Dustin complains about not getting the first burger.

"Not fair. Just 'cause she's your girlfriend," he mumbles as he goes off to search for the mustard.

You check to see if Steve had heard the comment. He doesn't seem to have; you can't decide if you're relieved or not.

The chairs are all taken by the time you finish fixing up your burger. Steve stands immediately as you approach.

“Here, take my seat,” he says.

“We can share,” you offer.

Steve lets you take the back of the chair, settling at the foot. “You Make My Dreams Come True” plays on the speakers.

“Whoever made this mixtape is a genius,” you announce.

“You like it?” says Steve. “I actually made this one. Robin and Eddie think my taste sucks, but—”

“It’s spectacular.”

He hums, ducking his head shyly. “Well, speaking of spectacular: I made more lemonade, if you want to test it before I unleash it upon the masses.”

“I’ll happily drink your lemonade,” you say. “It’ll build my iocane tolerance.”

Steve grins. “I rented The Princess Bride, by the way. I know you meant to get it a few weeks ago. We can watch it tonight, if you want.”

“You remembered I wanted to watch it,” you say.

He nods. “Well, uh, yeah. Do you still want to? If you don’t, I can—”

“I do,” you say. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, of course.” Steve stands, hand outstretched so you’ll give him your empty plate. “I’m going inside. Anybody want anything?”

“Doritos!” Robin shouts.

“Napkins, please,” El says.

“Cherry Coke!” Mike calls.

“Beer!” Eddie whoops.

“Doritos, napkins, got it. The cooler is right there, Wheeler, and are you kidding, Eddie? No drinking by the pool. Have we not learned our lesson from the last four years?”

“Bold of you to assume I’ve learned anything, Steven.”

“Can you bring us popsicles?” Max asks. “Lemon and grape.”

“Ooh, popsicles sound good,” says Robin. “Bring me one too. Fruit punch.”

Steve sighs, lifting his arms.

“Two hands, guys. Only got two.”

“I can help,” you offer.

“Now that’s a great idea,” Robin says. “The two of you in the kitchen, alone. Really brilliant, don’t you think, Steve?”

Steve glares at her. Then he turns to you, expression softening.

“That’d be great, thank you.”

You follow him into the kitchen. It looks exactly like the last time you were here, except for the food. Steve opens the freezer and digs through the box of popsicles. Then he takes the pitcher of lemonade out of the fridge and sets it on the counter.

“Can you get the Doritos?” he asks. “They’re up there.”

You open a shelf over the stove. The chips are at the very top. You try jumping; all that does is bang your ribs into the counter.

"Whoa, whoa.”

Steve’s hand rests on your back. Your stomach swoops.

"Easy, Buttercup. I’ll get it, sorry ‘bout that."

You frown. "The Doritos have eluded me."

"They’re a tricky bunch," he says, reaching and successfully grabbing the chips.

"I knew you’d best me and succeed."

"Best you?"

"Yes," you say. "Like in a duel."

Steve tilts his head, a tiny crinkle forming in the center of his brows.

"Are we going to duel? Like Inigo and Westley?"

"Not if I can help it," you say. "I'm terrible with a sword."

"I would never try to sword fight you."

"I appreciate that."

His hand slips from your back. You watch it fall to his side.

“Feel free to help yourself to whatever you want,” Steve says as he takes a glass out of the cupboard. “You can also take food home.”

You exhale through your nose and wiggle your fingers a little, trying to stave off the nerves. You wish Joan was in your pocket right now, but you left her on the deck chair.

“Buttercup?”

You look up. Steve has a glass of lemonade in one hand. The top button of his polo shirt is undone. Was it always undone? You can’t remember.

Anyway, he’s beautiful. And you’re so damn strange.

“Yes, Westley?”

Steve smiles. You don’t think anyone has ever smiled at you as much as Steve does.

“Everything okay?” he asks.

He puts the glass in front of you. You glance at it, then back at him.

“Everything’s fine.”

“Are you sure? I won’t force you to drink my crappy lemonade if you don’t want to, y’know.”

“You called me strange,” you blurt. “When we first met.”

Steve’s eyes widen.

“I didn’t mean it in a bad way,” he says softly. “But I won’t call you that anymore if you don’t like it.”

“No, I–I know you didn’t mean it in a bad way. But…”

He nods, encouraging you to continue.

“I’m not like Debbie,” you say.

“I know.”

“I’ll probably never be like Debbie.”

“I much prefer you as yourself,” he says.

“Oh.”

You sip your lemonade. Your lips pucker but you smile all the same.

“Damn,” Steve says with a chuckle. “I really can’t nail that lemonade, huh?”

“It’s wonderful,” you whisper.

He takes a step forward. You set the glass on the counter.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks.

“I would very much like that.”

Steve’s lips are slightly chapped. You taste like lemonade and he tastes like Coke and God, you like it so much.

You loop your arms around his neck like you’ve wanted to do for weeks. He returns in kind, both hands slipping to your waist.

It’s not just a boy kissing you. It’s Steve.

The sliding glass door whooshes open and you jerk your head back in surprise. Max and Dustin trod in.

Dustin shrieks.

“Seriously? This is what was taking you so long?”

“If you were gonna do that, we would’ve gotten the popsicles ourselves,” Max says with a huff, grabbing the popsicles and chips from the counter.

“Told ya they were making out!” comes Eddie’s voice from outside. “I warned you, kiddies!”

They clear out, with one last stink eye from Dustin. Steve shakes his head, nose pressed to your cheek.

“Again, very sorry about them.”

“They wanted to check in on their favorite babysitter,” you say.

Steve lifts his head and rolls his eyes. “I need a padlock or something.”

You hum and lean over to unwrap a popsicle.

“Oh,” you say. “Three left.”

“Three popsicles?”

“Mmhm.”

“Well, that explains it. Astronomical bad luck, right?”

“Actually,” you say, leaning in for another kiss. “I think my theory was wrong.”

#steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x yn #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x female reader #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington imagine #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #stranger things

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lemonlover1110 · 8 months

Text

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬

Satoru Gojo

[Chapter 11] Date

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Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader

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“I’d love to go on a date with you.”

You find yourself all giddy the next morning when you’re at the Gojo estate, trying your best to pay attention to your boss. Mrs. Gojo is trying on a dress, trying to see if it’s the best fit for the charity event that’s coming up– You remember it being two months away, but she begins to prepare for it now.

Working for her has been a delight since you don’t have to do much around. She wants you to stay away from Satoru. However, she called up this weekend for this. She tugs on the sides of the dress and tells you, “Call the tailor, I spent too much money on this dress to not wear it. Also I need you to send flowers to the Inumaki family and make sure they’re coming.”

And the more time you spend with her, you realize that she’s practically running the company by making sure the connections the family has are intact. The more you do, the more you realize that the majority of people don’t believe Satoru is adept enough to take over his father’s job. He was going to take over the company someday anyway, everyone knew so, you’re not sure why so many people are against it.

It almost makes you feel bad for Satoru, but you don’t. It’d take a lot more for you to feel bad for that man. You hum in response, and write down a reminder for yourself. She lists a bunch of other things that you have to do, and you write each one down, and what she notices from the reflection of her mirror is that there’s a smile on your face, “What is up with you?”

“Um… Nothing, ma’am.” You respond. You watch from the reflection of the mirror as her brows furrow. She walks away from the mirror and grabs her glass of water. She takes a sip of her water before putting it down again.

“What has my son said to you?” She asks, and you’re not sure what she’s talking about since Satoru hasn’t really talked to you. You haven’t even gotten the chance to see him this morning, so you’re not sure why she asks that question.

“I haven’t spoken to him.” You answer, and she wants to believe you. But there’s a reason you have a stupid smile glued to your lips, and she’s certain it’s because of her son.

“Then why are you so smiley today?” And your brows raise. You find yourself confused as to why she thinks her son has to do with your happiness. She should know better than that. Her son has caused you anything but happiness in the past five years.

“I have a date tonight, it has nothing to do with Satoru.” You end up sharing, which she has no problem believing. Satoru is busy tonight, and she knows that it’s not with you. She won’t pry about your personal life, unless it becomes serious and the man can become her grandson’s possible step father.

“Alright.” She responds, and you worry that she’ll push the subject, but she doesn’t seem to care. “Did you already handle catering?”

“I did.” You answer. She begins to ask about stuff that he has handled, stupid trifling details. You feel as if she’s worrying about the most trivial things. Satoru might be new at this, but he isn’t a complete idiot. “You don’t have to worry about anything, ma’am, your son has it covered.”

“Are you sure he does, though? He’s not a man that seems to care about tiny details, and they’re important. Especially in this world.” She responds, and you know better than to refute that argument. She might be right about the fact that tiny details are important, but she underestimates her son. You’ve seen Satoru work his ass off and he seems to care about every tiny detail, but you aren’t going to waste your breath defending Satoru; you doubt that he’s ever defended you, and you’re not going to risk arguing with Mrs. Gojo for him. “I don’t need you anymore. Do what I told you to, and then you can leave.”

“Alright.” You begin to walk to the door, but you hear her voice which makes you stop in your tracks.

“How’s Ren, by the way?” She asks.

“He’s fine.” You respond. She doesn’t say anything else, which makes you exit the room. When you get to the stairs, you hear your name. But it’s not your boss. Neither of them. You take a deep breath before turning to see Sayo, wearing yoga pants, and a sports bra. She has her ebony hair up in a ponytail, and she’s extremely sweaty– Your eyes are staring somewhere they aren’t supposed to.

“It’s so nice to see you!” Sayo has a smile on her lips. She has a towel behind her neck and she uses it to wipe off the sweat that’s everywhere. Even without makeup she’s simply stunning. “Are you doing alright?”

“Yeah…” You answer. Maybe you should ask the same question to her, but you really don’t want to engage in conversation right now. You just want to get home, spend some time with your son, and then get ready for your date.

“Are you doing anything tonight? I’m going out with Shoko, and I meant to ask you if you wanted to join us.” She says when you don’t say anything else. She doesn’t seem to have too many friends, and you genuinely feel bad for being so cold to her, but you don’t see yourself being friends with Satoru’s wife, especially when you have a son that he doesn’t know about.

“I already have plans tonight, I’m really sorry.” You tell her, and she lightly nods her head. Your eyes fall on the man that’s walking behind her, he’s walking your way. You quickly look back at her and sheepishly smile, “Maybe some other time.”

“Yeah… I’ll talk to Shoko to see what we can set up!” She effortlessly smiles back. Satoru really hit the jackpot with her, and it irks you. You wouldn’t be able to smile so easily while disappointed, and maybe this is one of the reasons she’s ideal for Satoru. She can uphold the image of his family, while you wouldn’t have been able to. She ends up turning on her heel and walking down the hallway to go to her room. She doesn’t acknowledge her husband, and her husband doesn’t acknowledge her when they walk past each other.

You try not to stare at Satoru, turning to walk down the stairs. He catches up to you and walks behind you. You begin to walk towards the front door but he takes the opportunity to speak up since from here he won’t be heard by anyone– Except by you and the workers downstairs, but they all know you have a history together. They literally know more than Satoru himself.

“I know that maybe she isn’t the ideal woman to spend the night with but… She’s trying to be your friend.” Satoru speaks up. You come to a stop, your brows furrowing. You turn to look at him, and try to act unbothered.

“I don’t want to turn your wife down, Satoru, but I do have a date to go to.” You share with him, and his brows raise. His hands go to his pockets and he tries to think of how to respond to that, but he doesn’t have anything to say. Nothing nice at least. Nothing smart.

“Uh… That’s nice to know.” He ends up saying, awkwardly looking elsewhere. Since you have nothing else to say to each other, you end up walking out of the house. His feet are glued to the floor and it takes a lot for him to lift his feet up and walk away.

“I love you, Ren.” You kiss the top of his head, and he doesn’t pay too much attention to you since his eyes are glued to the television. He doesn’t seem to realize that you’re going out tonight, and even if he did, his show is more fun and important than his mother, apparently. “Bye bye, Ren.”

“Bye.” He responds, waving his tiny hand, his head not even facing you. You almost roll your eyes and turn off the screen, but you’d rather have this than him crying. You hug your mother and then walk out of your apartment. Suguru is in the lobby of the building, waiting for you to show up. He offered to pick you up at your door, but you don’t feel like it’s appropriate with Ren being right there– You feel like you’ll owe your son an explanation about everything, and it’s too early for that. You have no idea what’ll result with Suguru.

Your eyes land right on him when you get to the lobby, he’s awkwardly glancing at his phone, and you call out his name to catch his attention. He looks up, putting his phone in his pocket and smiling at you as you walk over to him. He gives you a side hug before you walk out of the apartment building.

“I’m so excited for this.” You confess, and you try your best to suppress just how eager you are to be doing this. Maybe when you were sixteen you had a tiny crush on him, but nothing quite like how you felt for Satoru. Looking at a picture of Suguru would make you giggle and maybe your face would get warm, but you felt your heart skip a beat at a picture of Satoru.

But that’s not you anymore… At least that’s not who you’re trying to be. You can actually trust Suguru, which you hate to think about; thinking that you can’t actually trust Satoru is heartbreaking considering you’ve loved him for so long–

“I’m also really excited.” Suguru says, grabbing your hand as he walks you to his car. Your fingers intertwine, and you have the biggest smile on your face. You don’t even remember when was the last time you held hands with someone that wasn’t Ren, trying to stop the child from running off. “You look stunning, by the way.”

“Thank you.” You smile, and you feel your face warm up. You get to his car, to no surprise it’s a rather luxurious car (one similar to the one you have, one that you didn’t buy but your boss). He opens the car door for you, and you mutter another thank you before getting in. Your leg begins to bounce, and you wonder if maybe you are a tad bit nervous. It would be weird for you not to be, you don’t remember the last time you went on a date; additionally, this isn’t Satoru. You’ve only ever dated Satoru. This is the first time that you’re on a date with someone else.

Suguru gets into the driver’s seat and you take a deep breath. He starts the car and begins to drive. For the first minute you’re quiet since you’re visibly nervous– At least you bite your bottom lip, your leg bouncing and you’re looking elsewhere. He clears his throat and he asks, “How’s Ren doing, by the way?”

“He’s fine! He was watching some stupid show when I left and barely paid attention to me.” Your speech comes out a little too fast at first, and it’s hard for him to make out the words but he figures it out. You have to give it a minute to get used to these sudden nerves that overcome you. “He reminds me a lot of Satoru when he was of similar age.”

“Not gonna lie, I forget a lot about the fact that you’ve known Satoru for just as long as I have.” Suguru shares, and you chuckle. Your chuckle turns into an unintentional frown though, and you try to shake the thoughts that come to your head… But you can’t, so you share them with him.

“Not anymore. We’ve lost years of friendship.” You say, and you try to change the subject since you’ve made the conversation awkward. “How are you liking your job so far? How’s your residency going?”

You watch as he smiles, even though he tells you he’s tired. He likes what he’s doing, and you try not to pity yourself. You’re happy for him, you tell yourself that over and over again. You were supposed to be in a similar position and maybe if…

You’re happy for him. You’re happy with your baby boy and what life has given you, even if it isn’t ideal.

“God, she’s stressing me out.” You comment, referring to Mrs. Gojo. You have no idea how you got to this conversation. Slowly you’ve gotten more and more comfortable with each other, and you finally ended up in the topic of your boss who happens to be the grandmother of your son. “She was fine and then she– I don’t know, man. She’s micromanaging every single one of Satoru’s moves, and I’m the one that ends up with double work.”

“She’s always been a nightmare. Every time I have a nightmare she appears in it.” Suguru jokes, which makes you laugh. You have no idea why you were so nervous at first, you haven’t had this much fun in a while. He clears his throat and says, “The hospital I’m working at needs a receptionist, if you’re interested.”

“She pays too well and covers all my costs. As much as I’d love to leave, I don’t think I can.” You respond. “She got me the same car you have but in a different color, and it’s in my name. As stressed as I am, I’m living great.”

“And she paid for it? Shit, sign me up.” Suguru laughs. He proceeds to add, “What do I have to do? Fuck Satoru?”

“Have a child with him too.” You tell him, and he raises a brow and pouts his lips. He takes a moment to think about it.

“Hmm… That’s a challenge, but I’ll figure it out.” You both burst into a fit of laughter. You want to do this again. There’s an awkward moment of silence, and Suguru’s finger begins to tap the table. He has something to say, and you stay quiet so you can hear his question. “Do you… Regret any of it?”

“That’s not a conversation for a first date, is it?” You ask and he mutters an apology. He’s about to change the subject, but you proceed to answer the question, “I don’t regret any of it… Sometimes I think I do but Ren is–”

He loudly begins to cough, and you look at him weird, until you notice his eyes stare behind you. You turn your head, and you roll your eyes seeing the last person that you want to look at right now. He’s with his mother, most likely dealing with some business matters. Satoru doesn’t seem to notice you, his hand going up and waving at Suguru as he approaches your table.

“Hey, Suguru!” You turn back to look at Suguru, hoping that you’ll be able to hide because you’re certain this will be awkward– And it’ll certainly cause problems to arise.

“Satoru! Hey!” Suguru tries to act like nothing is up, maybe Satoru will just greet him and walk to another table.

“Don’t mean to interrupt your date, just wanted to greet you.” Satoru says, which is ironic since he doesn’t stop walking until he’s right behind you. Satoru just sees the back of a head, and when he tilts to try and get a look at you, you move so he’s not able to see you. “I hope you have a great–”

It takes him a moment but he remembers that you also had a date. It can’t be you… right? He says your name, and your eyes widen. You turn to look at him, and you swear you can see as his heart drops.

“Hi, Satoru.”

“I–” His brows furrow. He tries to think of what to say, but he doesn’t gather the right words to say. He doesn’t know what he feels. Overwhelming emotions take over, and he doesn’t know how to react.

So he walks away.

#[changes]#gojo saturo #satoru gojo #gojou satoru x you #jjk satoru #gojou satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jjk gojo #gojo angst #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru #jujutsu gojo #gojo x reader #gojo fanfic

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lillysilvermoon · 1 year

Text

What your Future Spouse will admire about you?

Pile 1

Your reading is SO BEAUTIFUL Pile 1, really😭😭

First of all: you have a very feminine energy (high priestess) which is like kryptonite for man🤣😁. You see, the hight priestess have a profound connection with God/Goddess. She believes everyone has their own inner guidance to lead them to their true potential. And you do this! You trust your intuition, follow your heart and your instincts and this makes your s.p just go crazy, I feel like he is very logical and he admires your away of leadership, in your own away (doesn't matter if you realize this or not) you are a leader, you inspire people without even realizing it. With you, he feels healed, you just bring so much peace, calmness and joy to him. And talking about joy: you have a childlike personality, you inner child is very happy and free, you know when it's time to be silly (happy dance) and he admires this in you, you bring his child side and makes he feels comfortable to play and just be silly with you. I feel like my heart will explode of joy right now so I think that's how he feels with you, and this makes he admire you a lot because at the same time you are a very elegant, femine and wise, very responsible you ALSO are fun to be with, you know how to play and you have this magic to him. (He loves you so very much I just can't 😭💗).

And you are confident, I feel you have the mindset of "what is mine will find me" so if something goes wrong you just drive to overcome the obstacle in a positive way. When you have a goals, you work with very fierce energy to bring them to fruition (but the thing is: you do all fo this in a very feminine, gentle and fun way, and he just admires you incredible for this).

Signs: jupiters placements, Gemini, cancer and aries and number's 6,9,5 and 8 (I think cancer's placements are important because cancer's symbol looks like a 69 and you had this two numbers. Cam also be dates or months), books, library, education, parks, lakes and flowers. (And music!!!!!! Omg I think it's important to youu or them, maybe he'll communicate his feelings by songs)

P.S: I was going to pile two but I just heard this: you help them to heal his inner child in some way, and this is something very very important to them and by extension to y'all relationship.

P.S²: I was again going to Pile two- but here it is: he admires you for that because, I feel like this problem with his inner child maybe has affected in a negative way his others relationships and you, somehow, handle this really easy, you don't even realize actually (and I just saw he looking to any place in particular think about this and feeling genuinely happy)

Blonde and redhead for some feel here.

Pile 2

Finally I'm here, hello pile 2♡ let's get into your reading shall we?

Calmness. You are so calm, even in the worst situations, you maintain a sense of peace (or try your best to!). I see here that you have multiple interests and you try to balance all of them and other areas of your life, but you don't stress yourself with this. It's like, if doesn't work it's fine, cause you are adaptable and flexible (and he REALLY admires this because I feel like your future Spouse has a tiny-bit-tittie problem with control (wink nod) and you are kind of the opposite lmao, he see you having all this interests and priorities but... it's not a obligation like "omg I HAVE to do ALL" no. You want to do all, but it's okay if don't work some days, he admires you organization and the way you management your time and schedule. I feel your s.p like calm and stable people, he doesn't like unnecessary drama in his life and you just have this flow, if something doesn't work you just be flexible and this is important too: you think before make decisions! 100% not reactive, you think and go inwards before choosing anything. And you have a introspective side that he just loves too much.

I feel like you are someone who brings them peace love and very good advices when needed (after all no one likes be with someone who just complains, fight for every minimal thing, always need to be right to feel "respected" etc, he admires the peace bring with you.) I feel he deals with a lot of stress in his work place and when he sees you... it's too good, like a oasis.

Signs: poems, tea, wind place, scorpio, leo, sagittarius, venus, Saturn, Uranus and Neptune placements are important, numbers 7, 11 and 12 (can be days, months or house in astrology; 7 represents love and commercial partnerships and our relation with public, 11 it's ruled by Saturn and Uranus (definitely a lot of air sign) and talks about flow, strong thinking and important of expansion and 12 it's the house of our unconscious, fears, dreams and spirituality)

Pile 3

I feel like you give a lot of importance to material possessions, you don't act like "Oh money isn't important blablabla" you know money is important, you work to have a good life, to you things like good education, good house in a great neighborhood, travel to have fun but to also acquire culture and knowledge, good clothes with quality. This are important too you (is giving me old money mindset vibes and if you don't know about it, and I'm NOT talking about the "old money" from Tiktok - I highly recommend the "The Old Money Book: Living better while spending less" to you, it's very short has 158 pages) but you don't live FOR money, the money is your servant not your master!

He admires how you always seem to have a behavior like "this is only temporary and shall pass soon" when something bad or uncomfortable happens, and he really admires this. You have a very outgoing personality, full of energy and optimism (and you have some kind of sex appeal but in a elegant way), you are not afraid to work to have the things you desire, your energy is very positive and uplifting (I feel like your future Spouse enjoys SO MUCH talk to you, he loves to see you so determined to get the things you want and he has this feeling that you two will evolve and grow together.

Also: you are a generous soul, with money and with your time, love and affection and wisdom. Maybe you are into some charity, you are very loving and loyal and this... big turn on to them, I think it's honestly the thing he admires most about you, your personality, your values. You like a rare jewel to them.

Signs: VERY strong water placements, pisces, scorpio and cancer, moon, sun and Mars placements (makes so much sense because mars rules goals) numbers 6, 5, 4 and 8 (can be days, months or house. 6 its concrete and practical knowledge, it's also associated to cleanse, maintenance, work capacity and routine service's (again: makes so much sense, you guys value quality and take care of what you have so last longer, don't have need to buy new things), 5 it's you creative side, what gives you pleasure, 4 it's what we have most profound in us and 8 transition of life and things, ending of cycles).

Hope y'all like this reading, it's my first reading related to love and I'm so happy, I had so much fun doing this and hope you guys too. See you in the next reading.

Xoxo

- Lia

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jakexneytiri · 1 year

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Hi bbgurl, I had a request:

How bout like a situation where dad Teyam and Y/n take their children swimming but Nima has some problems cause she’s the smallest and y/n comforts her

and you can end one of ur iconic spicy endings to it 😏

-🐬

AAAA YES SO CUTE!

⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰

you and neteyam are cleaning up from dinner, as your children are playing with their toys around you.

“daddy?” se’ayl asks, approaching neteyam with a puppy dog look on her face.

“yes, hì’i syulang (little flower)?” neteyam questions, smiling at his oldest daughter.

“can you and mama take us swimming? pleaseeee! pretty please!” she begs, jutting her lower lip out in a pout.

her brothers’ ears perk up in excitement, running over to where she’s standing in front of you and neteyam.

“i wanna swim too!” txonuk yells, tugging at neteyam’s loincloth.

“me too.” tsantu says, standing beside you as he rests a hand on your leg.

nima follows suit eventually, distracted by one of txonuk’s toys. she runs over when she hears the word “swimming.”

“wanna swim! wanna swim!!” she runs over, wrapping her arms around neteyam’s leg.

“hmmm….i suppose we can. but! you all must pick up your toys before we go, understood?”

“yes dad!” the boys immediately go to pick up their toys, followed by se’ayl.

nima keeps one arm wrapped around neteyam’s leg, the other playing with his tail as she erupts in a fit of giggles.

neteyam chuckles, reaching down to pick nima up, throwing her in the air before holding her close to his chest.

“nima, baby. will you go help your brothers and sister clean so we can go swim?”

“swim!! yes, daddy!” she begins to clap her tiny hands together.

neteyam plants a soft kiss to the top of her head before setting her down gently, allowing her to run and help her siblings.

“swimming, hm?” you ask your mate, as you finish putting away the bowls from dinner.

he moves to wrap his arms around your waist from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder. “is that all right with you? i will take them myself, if you’re tired.” he places gentle kisses along your neck, rocking you back and forth in a soothing motion.

“mmm. no it’s okay, i’ll come. i’m not tired yet.” you smirk as you speak the last word, turning to face him.

“hmmm. is that so? i’ll have to check back in later.” he’s smirking now, leaning in as he feels txonuk tug on his loincloth again.

“WE’RE READY! let’s go!!” he impatiently starts jumping up and down, getting se’ayl to follow along.

“all right, all right, come along.” neteyam opens the flap to your marui, as your children leave one by one. he seals it shut before taking your hand in his, swinging it gently.

the walk to the creek is incredibly short, only a few minutes. when you arrive, tsantu and txonuk race to the large rock they love to jump off of. they immediately jump at the same time, falling the short distance to the water below.

se’ayl jumps in after them, splashing them as she resurfaces.

neteyam jumps next, his braids swinging wildly as he scans the water for his three children.

you approach the edge of the rock, watching as nima hesitates to jump.

“come on, nima! just jump!” se’ayl says, trying to encourage her younger sister.

neteyam holds his arms out, looking up at you and nima. “nima baby, daddy’s right here, i’ll catch you!” he moves his hands, motioning for her to jump.

nima, on the other hand, is terrified. she runs back to you, hugging your leg as she starts to cry.

“oh, nima.” you pick her up instantly, cradling her to your chest. “what is it, baby? what’s wrong?”

“mama, i scared.” she sniffles, wiping tiny tears from her eyes with the back of her hand.

meanwhile, neteyam gets out of the water, approaching you and nima. “little love! what’s wrong? why are you sad, hm?”

“can’t jump! too scawee!” nima simply answers, her lower lip quivering as silent tears fall down her chubby cheeks.

“you can do it! come on, give it a go, baby. i’ll catch you! how does that sound, hm? watch daddy jump, look!” neteyam jumps back in, resurfacing quickly. “just like that, nima!”

nima clings to your leg, not making any movements to try and jump.

“nima.” you say gently. “i’ll stand with you, and daddy will catch you! do you want to try it?”

nima hesitates at first, but eventually nods. you kneel on the rock, holding one of nima’s hands. the other is gently caressing her back, holding her in place.

“daddy’s right there, okay? he’s gonna catch you when you jump! i’ll count to three, and then you jump, okay baby?”

nima nods, squeezing your hand as she looks at neteyam in the water below. “daddy! catch me!!” she yells down to him.

neteyam chuckles, holding his arms out for her. “i will, nima. i promise!”

“all right, nima. ready? one…..two!…….three!” you count down, watching as she hesitantly jumps to neteyam below. he easily catches her, holding her gently in the water.

“you did it, nima! i knew you could. you’re tough, just like your mama.” neteyam kisses the top of her head, before flashing a smile up to you. “will you be joining us today, my love?”

you roll your eyes, smiling as you jump in. when you resurface, txonuk decides a splashing war is the best game to play. it leaves all of you soaked, from head to toe. as eclipse quickly approaches, you and neteyam decide it’s time to head home for the night.

when you arrive back to your marui, you help your children change out of their wet loincloths to dry ones, and your daughters into new tops. you head outside to hang them to try, while neteyam starts tucking them in for the evening.

neteyam is finishing up his pillow kisses, as you start yours. once you finish, you both collectively say “goodnight, little loves. sweet dreams, we love you.”

as you go to hang the last damp loincloth out, you notice neteyam follows, securing the flap behind him. he snakes his arms around your waist from behind, while you melt into his touch.

his lips gently brush against your ear as he speaks. “i can’t help but notice, you haven’t changed yet. is there a reason for that, mama?”

you giggle slightly, turning to face him. “nothing gets past you, hm? i figured….if the kids are all asleep, maybe we could head back? together?” you flash him a wide smile, reaching out to hold both of his hands.

“mmmm. i would love to. but aren’t you tired?” he simply asks, kissing your hands as he waits for your response.

“no, i’m wide awake, actually.” you smirk, moving in closer to wrap your arms around his neck.

“i can fix that.” he’s quick to pick you up, slinging you over his shoulder as he begins the walk back to the creek.

#neteyam x reader #neteyam x y/n #neteyam x omaticaya!reader #neteyam x na'vi!reader #neteyam x mom! reader #neteyam x you #neteyam sully x y/n #neteyam fluff #neteyam sully fluff #neteyam sully x you #neteyam sully x na’vi!reader #neteyam sully x reader #dad!neteyam #dad neteyam #daddy neteyam

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mxmmyprentiss · 2 months

Text

Bad Mom

Summary: Emily has always been better at this mom thing than you are. Sometimes, you actually envy her for how good she is at it. She was a natural while you’re a disaster. And maybe your daughter knew that. Genre: Fluff Pairing: Emily Prentiss x female reader Warnings: none Word count: 1.6K

A/N: Just some little fluff piece I wrote to get back to writing. It's not proofread so forgive me for mistakes and errors. Likes, comments and shares are welcome. Enjoy! :)

AO3

You and Emily Prentiss have been married for over five years now. You dated for two years prior to your marriage. And in those years that you’ve been together, both of you have gone through ups and downs together. Emily has never left you to deal with your problems alone.

Except today.

And that problem was your 3-year-old daughter having temper tantrums at breakfast.

“I don’ wike t’is!” Eleanor, your daughter, slammed her tiny hands on the dining table. She was clearly furious at you for trying to feed her vegetables instead of her requested chocolate cereals.

In your defense, it’s all she wanted to eat lately and you just didn’t want her to be diabetic early (or at all).

“Ellie, please. This is yummy and healthy, baby. You can have cereal again tomorrow.”

Ellie shook her head and continued slamming the table. Her face was flushed from yelling and arguing with you for the past ten minutes or so. “No, mama! Ce-yals today!”

You sighed weakly. Ellie was such a good, easy kid most of the time but can be a real pain in the ass when she wants to be. And in those times, only your wife can get through her stubbornness. After all, she is Emily’s daughter too.

“Mommy will be mad. Do you want mommy to be mad?”

“Mommy not he’e!” She pouted.

“I know, but she will be mad once she finds out you’re giving Mama a hard time.”

Ellie folded her arms to her chest and displayed a sulky pout. “I wan’ mommy!” She fiercely yelled at you. “I wan’ mommy he’e!”

“I want mommy here too, baby, but she is fighting bad guys and she will come back to us soon.” You tried to offer her another spoonful of mashed vegetables. To your surprise, Ellie grabbed the spoon and tossed it to the floor. “Eleanor Prentiss!”

“Mama bad! Bad!” Ellie screamed before storming off to the living room and played with her puzzles.

Your eyes fell to the mess your daughter made on the table and the floor.

God, you wish she was here. Emily has always been better at this mom thing than you are. Sometimes, you actually envy her for how good she is at it. She was a natural while you’re a disaster. And maybe your daughter knew that.

After cleaning up the mess, you gave up and fed her cereals instead. It’s still better than Ellie not eating anything at all.

Your phone buzzed and it was from your wife.

Emily: Hey, babe. Just got back from Chicago. How are you and Ellie?

You: Ellie and I are enemies at the moment. She’s not eating her veggies and she’s asking for you.

Emily: I’ll be home in 30. Just have to finish this last paperwork then I’m out.

You: See you later, babe. I love you.

Emily: I love you too and that little self-willed kid of ours.

You have no doubt about that. In all the years that you’ve known each other, not once did Emily make you feel that you didn’t matter to her. Even when she had to leave you for days or weeks to travel to different states for her job. She never made you feel that her job was a priority over you; it’s just something she had to do. Emily would call you every night to check on you. Most times she would have food delivered at your door or at your workplace so she’s sure that you’d eaten. And when your wife comes home to you, a bouquet of hydrangea - your favorite flower - would be found on your bedside table.

But when you and Emily decided to adopt Eleanor three years ago, everything changed.

Emily was just promoted as BAU unit chief six months before Ellie’s adoption while you stayed home for a while to take care of your newborn. Your wife managed to spend less hours in the office and made a strict rule to not be interrupted during her off days. During some of these days, you would caught her teaching Ellie different languages and the then two-year-old girl was just staring at her wide-eyed.

Your wife had made sure to spend her annual leaves with you and Ellie. Emily would take you and Ellie to Disneyland and other theme parks she researched about. She would never bring her family to places she deemed unsafe and family unfriendly, especially places the BAU has worked abduction cases with.

Long story short, the change in your routine was all for the better.

Emily is a great mother, the best even. And she is just as great as your wife.

The problem lied with you though. You can’t seem to get through to your daughter like Emily did. It feels as if Ellie didn’t like you, or just liked her other mother better. Of course, you still loved that kid to death and you would do anything for her. But sometimes, at times like this one, it feels like you’re a failure of a mother to her.

Ellie was still ignoring you and your attempts to play with her. If you had a bingo card of her mama no’s, you would have won by now.

Maybe your daughter hated you.

You settled on watching your daughter have a tea party with her stuffed animals. Her dark curls tangled with the golden plastic crown she wore and her dark brown eyes focused on her white bunny. She was doing her best in re-telling them the bedtime story you told her last night.

The front door opened and Emily entered the living room, holding a big bouquet of pink and lavender hydrangeas and a tiny bouquet of white lilies.

“Queen Emily has arrived!” Emily announced, referencing the last story she told Ellie the night before she left for the case. “How’s my lovely sunshines?”

“Mommy!” Ellie exclaimed and ran to Emily. The little girl tightly hugged her mother’s leg. “Miss you, mommy!”

“Aww, I missed you too, sweet cheeks.” Emily knelt down to kiss her daughter’s cheek. She handed her the small bouquet. “This is for you, baby girl.”

Ellie jumped in joy and hugged Emily. “Thanks, mommy! They pwetty!”

“Yes, they are. Just like you, little one.” Emily playfully pinched her nose. When Ellie ran back to her tea party - boasting to everyone about the pretty flowers that her mother got her - Emily turned to you. “Hi, beautiful.”

“Please, I’m a mess.” You said, smiling faintly.

“Oh, you could be wearing a trash bag and I’d still find you the most beautiful woman on the entire planet.” You couldn’t help the blush that crept on your cheeks. Damn, this woman. Emily planted a kiss on your lips then handed you your bouquet. “This is for the best wife and mom in the world.”

You gratefully accept her gift. “Best wife? Yes. Best mother? Hmm, you’ll have to ask Ellie that.” You kissed Emily’s nose. “Your daughter hates me.”

“Our daughter,” Emily corrected you, slightly offended that you would ever say otherwise. “She doesn’t hate you. She’s just a stubborn little girl.”

“Wonder who she got that from.” You teased, earning an eye roll from your wife. “I made breakfast for you in the kitchen. You should eat.”

“Best.” Emily pecked your lips. “Wife.” And another peck. “Ever.” And another.

“I better be ‘cause I’d be the only one you’re getting for the rest of your life.” A smirk formed at your lips.

“One and only, babe.” Emily winked at you.

You and Emily spent the entire day playing with your daughter - having tea parties, dressing up her barbies, Emily making up silly stories about your family running an entire kingdom of stuffed animals. Eventually, your wife made sure that Ellie eats the mashed vegetables you prepared for her, proving only a stubborn could get past another stubborn.

Later that night, you and Emily tucked your daughter in. Emily was carefully brushing her hair while you set up her starry night light. Like most kids her age, Ellie didn’t like sleeping in the dark.

Ellie looked up to you. “Mama, pwease tell me ‘nother stowy?”

Your eyes met Emily’s. She smiled softly and nodded at you to go along with your daughter’s request.

You’re about to grab a book from Ellie’s cabinet when she stops you. “Don’ wan’ books. Wan’ mama and mommy stowy.”

“Our story?” Emily clarified. Little Ellie nodded. “Oh, mama, she wants to know our story.”

“I’m telling this one because we cannot trust mommy to tell the whole story, right?” You giggled as you tickled your daughter. “Okay, where do we start, hmm?”

“Start when you saw me across the room and fell in love with me.”

“I think that was the other way around, honey.”

“Touché.” Emily carried Ellie on her lap and hugged her. “Mama’s just so pretty that mommy cannot help but fall in love with her.”

Ellie giggled. “Mama pwetty!”

“That’s right, she is.” Emily smirked. “Mommy’s lucky.”

“Mommy, you pwetty too!”

You grinned. “She is. And you are our pretty little baby, Ellie.” You leaned in and kissed her forehead. “I love you so much.”

Ellie reached out and hugged your neck. “Wuv you, mama.” She planted a kiss on your cheek. “Sowwy I stubbo’n ‘bout veggies.”

Your heart swelled with love for your daughter. Emily squeezed your hand when she noticed the tears pooling in your eyes. “It’s alright, honey.” You said.

After telling your daughter more of how her mothers met, with a little too much protests from your wife about the inconsistencies about your story, Ellie eventually fell asleep hugging her stuffed giraffe.

“I told you she doesn’t hate you.” Emily spoke once you’re both in your bed, snuggling from behind and wrapping her arms around you. She planted a kiss on your exposed shoulder. “Don’t ever think that you’re a bad mom. Ellie is lucky to have you, and so am I.”

You didn’t say anything. Instead, you relaxed in your wife’s embrace.

And you believe her.

#jaye writes #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x female reader #emily prentiss x y/n #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss fic #emily prentiss fluff #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #emily prentiss

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roturo · 10 months

Text

SUPER SHY megumi fushiguru x f!reader

summary: way too scared to make a move on your brother's best-friend.

warnings: nsfw, aged up characters, reader is yuuji's little sister, reader is shy, semi-public, sexual tension, bad pick up lines lol, not beta read, fluff?, not finished.

A/N: This was a draft I wanted to post before I went for a break, I didn't have the motivation to finish it, mostly because of how insecure I am with my writings rn, but I know myself, and I know I wouldn't post this one after my break and i'm sorry if I didn't finish it but here it is.

It's your second semester in jujutsu tech, and you can't still seem to stop looking for Fushiguro Megumi.

He's in fourth semester, class president, and quite popular in your classroom. Mostly because of how handsome he is and every girl is thirsting over him.

You never understood the hype until you saw him for the first time at your brother's house. It's been, what? nearly a year? They were doing a school project, more like he's doing a school project while Yuuji stayed playing videogames in the living room. He was wearing an oversized black crewneck with some jeans. Simple choose of clothes, but why does he look extremely handsome in them?

¨Uh... hi.¨ You entered the living room with no clue Yuuji would be here with his friend, at least he could notify you about having friends over so you could change into more appropriate clothes. But I guess some tiny shorts and your brother's T-shirt wasn't bad.

¨Oh! This is Megumi¨ He introduced you by saying your name and for him to know both of you are step-family.

Since then you could never take your eyes out of him.

You told your friends about him and how you could never approach him, even when he's in your house. Something about his aura made you really shy to approach him or even come out of your room to see him. And when Yuuji introduced you to Nobara so you could be 'shopping besties' things could'nt get worse.

Nobara is a great person, she's not the problem. It's her friend group. It's Megumi Fushiguro and his hot damn persona.

You couldn't even keep eye contact with someone else in the group when you go out, because you were fucking scared for him to see your loving eyes that you could swear they would leave those hearts from your eyes like cartoon's.

Nobara knew about your crush for Fushiguro, since she's like your older sister. And to say she didn't accidentally slipped your little crush for him on the cafeteria with Fushiguro and Yuuji present.... would be the dead of you.

At first, Yuuji wouldn't believe it, but then he would remember all those days at his house, going out, your little glances towards Megumi, and 'casual' questions about him... brought him back to reality.

Second, he went through 3 stages. Anger, emotion, and... confussion.

He was furious for the fact you had a crush on his best-friend, which later turned into a fantasize like the kissing booth, one of the movies Gojo-senseid made him watch. But... that brought him into what would he do? Is Megumi good for you? Would he protect you like he does? Will you be happy?

He had mixed opinions about this. Most of them were good, but two or three were bad. Maybe his anxiety?

And Megumi? well, he was confused.

He knows he has plenty of girls falling for him, but he never expected you to be one of them. He thought you were pretty, really, really pretty... but he could never do that to his best friend, could he?

He had kinda of a crush for you too, but never thought of going this far.

Days passed and the topic stayed untouched, not until Yuuji asked Megumi to talk alone.

And it was the most uncomfortable moment Megumi could go through.

¨I just wanted to tell you both of you have my blessing if you ever become something, a really nice couple, both of you are really smart and have a difficult character, not that matters. But I also wish you the best if you ever get married, OHHH how cute, could I be flower guy? Okay, that's a topic for the future, and oh! also- I ALSO give you my blessing to the both of you, mostly to the kid-¨

¨Yuuji, what?-¨

¨Both of you would have really pretty and powerful children, hoping they have more of my sister appearance rather than yours... but don't forget children are for later, LATEEER.¨

Megumi would never tell you about his feelings for you, unless you make the first move, but he's been interested in you since your transfer to Jujutsu Tech in Tokyo. You were just the cutest thing, always blushing and following behind him and Yuuji until you got into your house. You were never outspoken, but you would never let anyone walk all over you, the few times he's seen you fight seared into the back of his mind. The look of unshaken determination along with the way your body moved with your cursed technique had the front of his pants tighten a bit. He wants you, even to this day, but doesn't know exactly how to take that step forward.

You pause your eating for just a second to catch Megumi's eyes staring you down. Did you do something wrong? Did he no like the way you eat? There was little you could do that change that, honestly. As you feel your face brighten and your eyes widen, you feel your confidence swell. You're gonna change him off-guard.

This was it. You were going to say it despite all your classmates being in close proximity. You were never going to live this down.

"Y-You've been staring at me all night, Fushiguro-san... Rather than undressing me with your eyes, did you want to... take this somewhere private and take it off... for real? Don't... don't act like I don't know Nobara told you about my crush... Yuuji can't keep his mouth closed.¨

You're sure he doesn't even know your name and knows you as 'Yuuji's little sister'

But you were really nervous while thinking how to finally make him yours. So shyness can go for a little bit, and fuck it.

You can feel three sets of eyes burning into your stuttering and blushing head, your eyes glaring holes in the half-eaten rice bowl in front of you. You can't believe that came out of your mouth, although it definitely took you a while to get it out. You were way too embarrassed to even look him in the eye.

Megumi couldn't believe the sweet, innocent and shy image he had about you had actually said that, to him of all people. He could do nothing but stare at you in pure shock for a few seconds before returning to his neutral nonchalant state, watching you slowly simmer in your seat. Well, at least he didn't have to take the first step. He was definitely going to take you up on that tempting offer, but he couldn't say that in front of everyone. He knows they wouldn't leave this alone, pestering the two of you until you spill the details.

Feeling the awkward silence weighing down on your shoulders, you shoot out of your chair and turn to head to the restroom, where you will hang your head in shame for the rest of the night. "I, um... I-I'll be back." You make a beeline for the women's restroom, tucked away in a corner behind a few plants. You were definitely going to puke this time.

Back at the table, Megumi continues to eat his food, the only change since your departure being him eating a bit slower, trying to process the situation. You justly openly invited him to engage in sexual intercourse with you in front of your confused friend AND brother. Whether it be a joke or something more serious, he needed to hear it again clearly from your mouth for confirmation. The question is, how is he going to do that with you stuck in that restroom?

His entire train of thought crashes when he feels something cold drip on his shirt, his dark eyes darting down to see a wet noodle slowly sliding from its spot on his shirt to land on his dark jeans, another stain forming on the denim material.

"So, it DID have an effect on him." Nobara glares at Yuuji, who stares wide-eyed at his best friend before feeling his lips stretch into a grin. "[Y/N] finally shot her shot! Oh, my little sister grows up so fast!" The light-haired man hums happily before digging into the rest of his meal.

Megumi places the dirty noodle on a napkin before standing and turning to the restroom. "I'm going to check on her," he mumbles to his friends before walking briskly to the restrooms, missing the knowing looks between the patrons at the table.

"Five bucks if they walk out together." "Deal....Wait, we're betting about my sister here..."

Megumi stands between the two doors, hesitant about entering the women's restroom. He didn't need unnecessary attention or worse, getting everyone kicked out and ruining their meal. However, the way you tried to keep eye contact with him as you stutter your way through your flirting had him listening more to his groin rather than his brain. With a quick prayer that he wouldn't get caught redhanded, he slips into the nearly empty women's restroom, seeing a pair of small feet at the very last stall.

You continue to sulk against the wall as you hear someone enter the restroom. You sigh softly, arms uncrossing to press your hands against your still blushing face. You could never face him again. You had one chance and you absolutely blew it. You were sure he was going to either ignore what you said or completely reject you on the spot. Your heart wouldn't be able to handle the response, so you decide to sneak out through the restroom window and text everyone a sincere apology.

You reach up to unlock the stall's door, pushing yourself to stand and slipping out to be face-to-face with Megumi Fushiguro, yelping as his hands press onto your shoulders and push you back into the stall. You can only look at him in shock as he locks you both in, the awkward silence from earlier crushing your lungs. Oh, no. He was going to reject you right now, wasn't he?

"Fushiguro-san, I'm really sorry about--"

"Did you mean what you said?"

Every word dies on your tongue as he closes the gap between you two and cups your face in his large hands, your body melding against his own. Holy shit, you were NOT expecting this development. A few dying wheezes leave your mouth before you realize your speaker box isn't going to work any time soon. You rapidly nod your head, feeling his grip tighten just a little.

"Good, because here's my answer."

You always wondered what Megumi's lips would taste like back when you saw him for the first. A hint of spearmint and cinnamon, honey and strawberries, hell you even thought he'd taste like cookies and cream ice cream. You can't focus on the flavor when the feeling is the only thing you're thinking about, his lips moving smoothly over your lips. Your eyes widen before you hastily respond, burying your hands in the front of his shirt.

This was blowing your mind right now. You couldn't believe he was here in the women's restroom with his lips moving sensually against your own and his hands reaching down to grip your hips, but frankly, you didn't care too much. You've dreamed of this moment for years and you were not going to let it slip easily. Throwing your arms over his shoulders, you lose yourself to him, trying to keep in all your little noises the longer you were connected.

The taller sorcerer pushes a knee between your legs, letting his hips slide between and his hands lift you up by your bottom, getting a good squeeze. You were as soft as he thought and dreamt of. You were going to be the death of him for sure. One hand slithers up your shirt to brush his fingers against your ribcage, feeling lace brush against his fingertips. He groans softly against your mouth, pushing his tongue inside to assert dominance and letting his second hand join the first when you lock your legs against his waist. No turning back now.

You gasp then groan as his hands grasp the tops of your bra and yank them downward, latching onto your fleshy mounds while his hips grind slowly against yours, feeling your underwear dampen from the stimulating touches and breath-stealing kisses. Speaking of breathing, you part lips from him only to release a filthy moan as he pinches and pulls at your hardening nipples from underneath your shirt. Looking up at him with glassy eyes and drool dribbling down the edges of your lips, you could feel his erection grow and press against you harder. You wanted him, right here and right now.

"F-Fushi--"

¨Megumi, it's Megumi for you.¨

¨M..megumi-¨

The sound of the door swinging open makes you two freeze, eyes wide as whoever enters the restroom walks to the sink and stays put for a while, assuming she was fixing her hair or makeup. You grind your hips down against the tense man, feeling his grip on your breasts tighten slightly before he slams his lips against yours again to silence you. The two of you stay fixed in that position for three minutes before the woman decides her appearance is worthy and leaves the room, gasping for air as you pull away from each other.

"We... we should leave, huh?" You chuckle nervously as he slowly sets you up, straightening his clothes before clearing his throat. You also adjust your clothes and run your hands through your hair, trying your best to steady the blood flow in your face. You were sure you were tinted even redder than before.

"We're going to my place. I hope you're ready." With those few words, he almost zooms out of the restroom, leaving you surprised yet turned on. He didn't reject you or ignore you. In fact, he reciprocated your feelings, about to show you a good time back at his place. You get your mind back together before finally leaving the restroom, walking back to your table to see Megumi handing Yuuji a few paper bills.

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