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loveshotzz · 11 days

Text

I guess it’s never really over

mechanic!steve x fem!reader exes to lovers

Chapter Four -

Honey, on your knees when you look at me

The consequences of your actions hang heavy around you neck when you wake up, so you go to the shop to tell Steve this is definitely not what he thinks it is.

warnings: 18+ slight angst, confused feelings, semi public smut, fingering (fem!receiving), oral (fem receiving), body worship, praise kink, unprotected p in v smut, cream pie, fluff.

wc: 10k

authors note: This chapter has been almost two months in the making between life and writers block, I didn’t think I would be here. Thank you to everyone who sent me messages about this story and about him because of you, I never gave up writing this series I was so excited about. beta’d by: @superblysubpar

series masterlist | series playlist

songs from the playlist that inspired this chapter: Unravel Me, If You Think I’m Pretty, Please Don’t Fall In Love With Me, Make Up, Eastside, Holy.

Streams of shining golden yellow make your lids still heavy with sleep flutter, lashes tickling the tops of your puffy cheeks as you surrender to the sun’s wishes to wake you up. The orange shag carpet in Robin’s living room slowly comes into focus, along with the rest of your surroundings as the ends of your palms rub the rest of the night from your eyes. Stretching your legs, they’re met with warmth like the rays of sunshine peeking through the blinds still lingering on the cushions next to you.

¨Shit.¨

Your muscles freeze, threatening to cramp in your calf as the night floods back into your memories. How his plush pink lips slotted between yours like they should never be anywhere else, or how they made your back arch, kissing a messy path down your neck, perfect teeth nipping, threatening to bruise your delicate skin that lights up under his touch.

A shaky breath pushes out of your lungs as you shimmy your body deeper into the couch, fingers finding their way to your chest where you swear you can still feel his smile pressed into your skin, the tips of them hitting something smooth and warm.

A metal chain.

The weight of it around your neck finally registers through the sleepy fog that lifts from your brain. Looking down the slope of your nose, you nearly go cross-eyed when you’re met with the rich yellow gold that matches the sun, especially because It looks just like the one that belongs to Steve Harrington.

“No, no, no, no.”

The realization that it is in fact, Steve Harrington’s kicks in just like your feet in a silent fit, the thin throw he must’ve put on top of you before he left falling to the ground. You remember his plea for a date, and it has panic curling deep in your gut, the consequences of your actions arriving first thing in the morning before you’ve even had any coffee.

There’s a little bit of pride that hides in a small space in your chest that you didn’t just fold and say yes. Something you would have done in high school when he was giving you much less. Still, you didn’t say no. You were just prolonging the inevitable matter of letting him down right? It’s the self-respecting thing, it’s what you told yourself you’d always do.

Say no.

You twist the metal between your fingers, your eyes finding the dust particles that seem to float between the plastic of Robin’s blinds. There’s an ache in your heart at the fresh reminder of what it feels like to be held in his arms, something he rarely did when you were dating, at least not if it wasn’t the dead of night. The sleepovers at his big empty house were your favorite until you realized how sad it was. All his whispered secrets and deep confessions that he only shared when you were lit by the moonlight - the kind that hid all the stars in the sky and that boy he was trying to hide. The ones that kept you hanging onto hope until the last bit of rope tethering you to him, cut your skin. Those were the nights that really made you have to run.

You’re not sure if you could survive it again, and the end of August is only a distant friend. Pushing yourself off the couch, your eyes catch the bright bold numbers on the microwave that read 9:45 AM and you try to remember all the reasons you left in the first place. Not the way he looked at you last night in the kitchen making your best friend’s favorite snack.

Your flip-flops clack loudly against the hot pavement, the determination in your walk up to the shop threatening to set the street ablaze. The spaghetti strap sundress you threw on in a rush trying to be careful not to wake up Robin does very little to help cool you or your mood down when you’re met with the mugginess of the Midwest.

Steve’s chain bounces against your chest with each step, the gold shimmering against the sunlight in a pretty reminder that you still haven’t taken it off yet. One that you choose to ignore in your huff trying to think of all the mean things he's done and not the way he begged you to make it right.

Reaching the end of the block, you notice Eddie’s van is missing from the parking lot, leaving only Steve’s BMW against the side of the shop. It stops you dead in your tracks because the buffer that would stop you from making the same mistake isn’t there. Your proven lack of self-control only a few weeks into the summer has your confidence waver with nerves that try and get the best of you, but with a deep breath, you force your feet to keep moving.

Steve’s side of the garage is the only one open, the faded green metal door at half-mast to keep some of the sun away. Michael Jackson’s The Way You Make Me Feel bleeds out of the open space, bouncing and echoing off the cars inside, waking up the butterflies and sending them soaring. Rolling your bottom lip between your teeth, you try not to imagine the way he’s probably singing along, or that curl that won’t stay in place, falling over his forehead as he bobs his head to the beat.

Why is Eddie not here?

You see his black work boots first, then the legs that were intertwined with yours just a few hours ago, now adorned by blue coveralls. Walking across the grease-stained cement, he comes to an abrupt stop, and for a second you think maybe he sees you, heart thumping wildly in your chest until he shuffles back a few steps before continuing forward.

He was dancing and you hate the way the corners of your mouth twitch because of it.

The smell of oil is bittersweet hitting your nose as you stop in front of the opening, silently working up the courage to duck under the door. Steve doesn’t notice your sneaky entrance from where he stands at his workbench with his back facing you, completely lost in whatever’s on the paper he’s holding in black-stained hands. It gives you the few minutes you need to get your thoughts together as he bops his head to the music that’s loud enough to hide you a little bit longer.

Your gaze lands on Eddie’s empty office, successfully diminishing the last bit of hope you clung onto that maybe he just didn’t drive today, before your eyes catch the burnt orange of your car tucked away in the corner. A cherry red Corvette sits parked in front of it, making your face sour at the instant comparison. It outshines the car you scraped up enough money to get after moving to the city, sparking the kind of anger you’d been scrambling to cling onto walking up here. Maybe if your car hadn’t broken down, you wouldn’t have kissed Steve Harrington, and then maybe you wouldn’t be standing here secretly wanting to do it again.

Clinging to that notion with everything you have, you take a deep breath, straightening your posture before clearing your throat, letting him know he wasn’t by himself anymore.

”The music’s a little loud don’t you think?”

The pleased grin that spreads wide across your face can’t be stopped when the sound of your voice makes him jump with a ‘Jesus Christ’ so loud you can hear it over the music, crumbling the paper in his hands.

Point one - you.

Your victory is short-lived the moment Steve turns around with his ever changing brown eyes that are somehow warmer in the daylight, reflecting the flecks of green that shine and light up even more at the realization that it’s you and not some random intruder. He runs those long fingers through his hair, trying to tame the mess on top of his head that you made, while his heavy stare fixates on the chain still hanging off your neck. Right where he left it.

Leaning over to turn the volume down on his boombox, he doesn’t break eye contact, giving you that crooked smile that makes your heart skip a beat pushing up the two moles on his cheek. Raising his hands in a silent apology, you try not to think about how big they look or the way they grabbed at your hips last night. It's a fruitless effort, so you try to make up for it with a sassy tongue.

”Wow, I could have easily stolen one of these cars if I had wanted to.”

Crossing your arms, you suck at your teeth, deciding that standing right where you are is the best move, especially when you see the sweat that glistens, beading off of his tan skin, curling the coarse hairs on his chest that’s hardly hidden by the sheer white of his tank top. At least his coveralls are fully on this time.

“Maybe I should report you to Eddie.”

“Most of the cars in here don’t run,” Steve tuts, dark eyes roaming over your curves hugged tight by the soft cotton of your dress unashamed before meeting your narrowed gaze, “You of all people should know that.”

“Sounds like maybe you’re just bad at your job.”

You ignore the uncontrollable press of your thighs that only gets worse the more his smile widens with your attitude, reading your body language like his favorite book.

“Did you come here just to pick a fight?” Steve sighs, carding another hand through his hair, threatening to punch the air out of your lungs when he looks up at you through his lashes “Or do you just want another kiss?”

It’s impossible to sound out the word ‘no’ even though it’s just two letters because watching him lick his full bottom lip before tugging it between his perfect teeth makes you wish it was yours instead.

“Is that it baby?” Steve taunts, pushing himself off the work bench and tossing the crumbled paper aside.

”No,” you finally manage to get out, but the venom you had less than twenty-four hours ago is gone, and it barely stings when you try to deny with a jut of your chin and a quieter than intended, “That’s not why I’m here.”

The little bit of self-control you’ve been hanging onto with an iron grip starts to slip from in between your fingers with each heavy thud of his boots that bring you closer to your demise as he closes the gap.

”Are you sure?” He asks with a glint in the darkening russet of his eyes that land on the gold wrapped around your neck again, close enough now to smell last night's leftover cologne.

“A-absolutely,” you stutter, taking a few steps back, the clack of your flip flops echoing, making you wince with embarrassment as you try to counteract his advances only for your back to hit the cool metal of a pickup truck.

”Hmmm, I know what it must be then,” he hums, a faint hint of smirk twisting the corners of his full lips, big boots stopping with a scuff on the cement floor right in front of your pink painted toes.

Reaching up, his bold fingertips trace the smooth edges of his chain, rough calluses tickling your collar bone daring to explore a little more. The quick rising of your chest spurs him on as he tries to hold his composure, teasing the dip of your breasts, he curls his finger around the metal, lifting the chain a little before letting it fall back into place. Mischief twinkles in his stare that matches the same color staining his hands.

“You must be here to tell me when you’ll be ready for our date later tonight, huh baby?”

It takes your brain a second to catch up, the freckles that spread across his cheeks like wildfire in the light distracting you from this close.

“The opposite actually,” clearing your throat, you try to hide the way your tongue dries when he looks at you like this, “I’m here to say that whatever happened last night doesn’t change anything.”

The corners of his lips twitch, his gaze getting lost in the details of your features like you weren’t denying him, finally giving you the fuel you needed to make your blood simmer, the anger you thought you’d lost forever buzzing under your heated skin.

“So!” You snap your fingers in his face, interrupting whatever daydream he was getting lost in, getting the glare you were searching for, “You better get that out of your head right now. We’re not going on a date.”

Your words finally bite with a tone that almost seems final and for a minute it starts to feel like you have a semblance of your self-control back. Holding your head up high, you try to really end whatever started on your best friend's couch last night.

“We can be friendly for Robin’s sake, but it’s never going to happen again. I’m not your girl, Harrington.”

Steve rolls his tongue against the inside of his cheek, something you can’t quite put your finger on flashing behind the gold in his eyes. Leaning forward, his hand finds the chipped teal paint of the truck behind you. Caging you in, the spice of his cologne overwhelms you as it mixes with the heat in the garage, and the sweat glistening on his tan skin. The warmth of his breath fans across your cheeks that burn like they’re being licked by a flame, thighs pressing harshly under your dress as you try not to let his gaze swallow you whole.

“If that’s how you really feel, fine.” He says cooly, seemingly unphased and it makes your blood boil more. “I’ll take my chain back now then.”

“No.”

“No?” He snorts incredulously at your refusal, watching the way your fingers come up to play with it. Taunting him.

”I don’t even know why you put it on me in the first place,” you scoff with a roll of your eyes, channeling his nonchalance before ducking under his arm, your escape in sight.

You refuse to look back at him making a beeline to the open garage door, heart thumping wildly in your chest as you do your best not to give away the attachment you have to the weight of it around your neck that you really aren’t ready to unpack yet.

”I left it!” Steve yells hot on your heels, the cracks in his confident demeanor starting to show, “I left it so you didn’t think I just disappeared on you this morning because I personally have zero regrets about what happened last night.”

The sarcastic ‘HA!’ you let out is almost comical, picking up your pace with an extra sway to your hips because you know he’s staring.

”How about this, Steve?” You antagonize, turning around and walking backward with a smug grin that mirrors his from before, “I’ll think about it.”

Steve doesn’t take the bait, instead, he side-steps quickly to smash the round red button on the wall with a deadpan face. Letting the rumble of the garage door coming to life do all the talking for him.

”Are you serious?!“ You shriek, watching it close faster than your feet can carry you, even contemplating a tuck and roll when you see the sunlight and any chance you have at not going back on your promise start to disappear behind it.

“It’s simple honey,” he sighs with an irritated edge, “Give me my chain and I’ll open her back up so you can go run back to Robin’s and pretend like last night never happened. Just the way you want, right?”

”This is ridiculous. You’re ridiculous. Let me out asshole!”

A new level of stubbornness that you never thought you could reach locks you in place, facing him with arms crossed tight over your chest.

”I’m ridiculous?” Steve chuckles darkly, the steel toe of his boots echoing louder now that you’re sealed inside as he walks towards you, “Look at yourself.”

”What’s that supposed to mean?” You snap despite the way your teeth gnaw nervously on your bottom lip, greedy eyes roaming his tall frame as your body betrays you for what feels like the hundredth time today when he steps into your space again.

“I know you enjoyed drama club in high school, but you’ve always been a terrible actress.”

“And you’ve always had way more confidence than you should.”

Steve’s nostrils flare, his gaze threatening to set you on fire.

”I’m going to get back to work, you’re free to go whenever you give me my necklace back. I’m getting paid to be here all day baby, you aren’t, so just know that I’ve got time.” He holds your stare for a second longer, sucking at his teeth before turning around. Testing you.

“Come take it off me then, Harrington, if you want it so bad.”

Two can play that game.

He stops in his tracks, shoulders tensing at the implication of your words, turning his head to the side, he gives you a perfect view of his sharp jawline.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish,” he warns, with a tone sharp enough to make your stomach flip.

“I said,” your shoulders square with a defiance that matches your glare, acting as if you aren’t sealing your fate with the next four words, “Come and get it.”

Steve’s long strides close the distance faster than you can comprehend. A big hand grabs at your hip, grease-stained fingers digging into your curves, while the other cups the side of your face, surely leaving a mark. He's getting what he really wants.

Gasping into his mouth, the force of his kiss sends a shudder through the garage door when your back slams against it. Lost in the sensation of his teeth nipping at your bottom lip, you barely notice. Your fingers weave through the thick locks of his hair at the nape of his neck as if they were always meant to be there. A harsh tug on the silky strands earns you a groan that's deeper than you remember, and you immediately want to hear it again.

The clash for dominance ignites as your tongues collide clumsily, teeth grazing and noses pressing into each other’s cheeks. His grip tightens on your hip in a warning before his hand trails down to where the bottom hem of your dress rests at the top of your thigh. Pushing up the thin fabric, the blunt tips of his nails skim across your soft skin, goosebumps pebbling despite the heat.

His fingers tease the edge of your panties, tracing the curve where they meet your ass, stealing your whine with a cocky grin that he kisses into your lips. He lingers just long enough to turn you needy before he hooks your knee around his waist, getting the instant roll of your hips and more of your little noises that will haunt his every waking thought after this.

“Steve,” you breathe, tugging your swollen bottom lip between your teeth while he starts kissing a slow, agonizing path down your jaw, tickling you with the stubble on his cheek.

He hums in between kisses, nipping at the sensitive spot behind your ear, he soothes it with a swipe of his tongue before he starts to suck–hard. Your moan bounces off the metal and concrete that surround you, echoing in your ears while your greedy fingers tug even harder at his roots. His grip on you tightens when you start to squirm as his efforts to mark what’s his intensify, leaving a bruise you’ll have to explain to Robin later.

”Yeah?” He mumbles against your heated skin, the tip of his nose running along your pulse point, a saccharine smile pressing into the curve of your neck where his chain still rests.

“Shut up,” you manage to get out, despite Steve leaving open-mouthed kisses on the swell of your breasts, palming roughly at the dough of your ass, encouraging another rock of your hips.

“You're always so mean to me, honey,” Steve sighs, nipping at the supple skin, before meeting your poor attempt at a glare from under the thick hood of his lashes.

”Yeah? And? What are you gonna do about it?” You bite, but it doesn’t sting the way you want it to, not with the way your chest heaves in anticipation of his next move.

Steve flips you around so quickly that the change in position has you gasping, your palms meeting the warm metal of the garage door that bakes in the sun outside. Heavy work boots push your legs apart, while hot breath that rivals the summer dances across the nape of your neck. He presses himself into you, letting you feel just how hard you really have him, the tip of his nose brushing along the shell of your ear. Butterflies multiply, tickling your rib cage just like your lashes that kiss the tops of your cheeks.

“I think it's pretty obvious what I want to do,” he whispers against your neck, lips ghosting across the freshly formed bruise, “The real question is…”

The backs of his fingers brush along the sides of your breasts, goosebumps pebbling across your skin. His big hands follow the curve of your waist, smoothing down to the tops of your thighs. Taking his time, he curls them under the hem of your dress, pulling it up to rest on top of your hips, still giving you the chance to stop him. One you don’t take.

“Are you gonna let me?” His words are gruff coming out next to your ear, your walls fluttering around nothing because of it.

The humid air doesn’t help your sticky thighs that only get worse as two of his calloused fingers trace agonizingly slow along the waistband of the only fabric separating you now. Peppering soft kisses to all the sensitive spots that make your skin come alive, his teeth nip playfully at your earlobe, fireworks lighting up in the sky behind your eyes when he takes it into the heat of his mouth. The sensation has you mewling, jaw going slack as your toes curl into the foam of your flip flops from a feeling only Steve Harrington can give.

”I could be so nice to you, baby,” he whispers, letting you go with a pop, his fingers daring to go lower than just teasing, smirking against your cheek at the gasp you give when he drags them through your slick folds, wrapping your hands around his wrist for support, your hips chase him for more. “Don’t you want that?”

Your pride has your teeth biting into your bottom lip. Refusing to answer his question loaded with too many double meanings for your head to wrap around right now, but you still spread yourself wider for him, because the last thing you want him to do is stop.

“Gonna make me earn it, huh?” He breathes, biting back his groan at how you start dripping down his hand, “That’s okay. I’ll show you I’m worthy.”

His promise is enough to finally draw out the moan you’ve been fighting, the sound making him kick up in his coveralls, while the movements of his wrist become more pointed. Your head lulls back against his broad shoulder, and his cologne smells even better with the way sweat starts to drip from his pores. Your eyes are needy, meeting the black coffee of his and you know it, especially at the furrow of his brows when he looks at you completely transfixed.

“God, I almost forgot how soft you are. How fucking wet you get for me.” He whispers between gritted teeth, awestruck at the feeling of your silk walls begging him for more, daring him to explore, “Bet you taste even sweeter than I remember too.”

Leaning down, he runs the tip of his nose along the bridge of yours, the mint that still lingers on his breath tickling your lips. Your hips roll with the rhythm of his wrist, warmth spreading across your cheeks as the sounds of just how wet you are echo in the big space. Too close to falling apart all over his fingers to care, the blunt ends of your nails dig half-crescent moons into his wrist chasing it.

“Baby, are you gonna come already? I’ve barely touched you.”

His words mock you despite the sugary sweetness they drip with, every swipe against your bundle of nerves becoming unrelenting, determined even. But it’s still enough for you to take the bait and force your eyes open, meeting his hungry stare dead on and say:

”Y- you wish it was that easy.”

Amusement dances across the hard lines of his face, his dark gaze narrowing before something between a laugh and a growl rumbles deep from his chest. The motions of his wrist come to a halt, and it takes everything inside of you not to cry in protest. Pulling his hand from your soaked panties, his wet fingers dig into your hips spinning you around, quick strides pushing you to the corvette that started your spiral.

“What are you doing?!” You squeal, your butt hitting the cherry-red metal of the hood that sticks to your sweat-slicked skin.

He just grins, the pearly whites of his teeth showing as grease-stained hands spread your knees apart enough for him to step between, leaving raven fingerprints in their wake before grabbing at your chin, he forces you to look at him.

“Need you to keep your eyes on me, honey, and remember what you just said.” He pulls your bottom lip down with the pad of his thumb, watching it pop back into place.

Letting go of your chin, he holds your stare, fingers ghosting across the tops of your thighs as he drops to his knees like someone praying to a god. Hooking his arms under your bent legs, he tugs you to the end of the hood with a squeak. Spread wide for him to see, your calves rest on top of his shoulders that you hate to admit you wish you could see. Leaning forward, the tip of his nose traces the wet path of your covered folds, breathing you in like the sweetest summer breeze.

When his big eyes meet yours from between your thighs, just begging you to get lost in them like you used to, it’s almost enough for you to forget the game you’re both supposed to be playing. There’s a softness that lingers inside melting caramel that manages to shine through the black that overpowers it, and you wonder if he can hear the way your heart threatens to beat out of your chest.

His touch is gentle now, long fingers curling around the waistband of your underwear, silently asking you for permission to cross the line that deep down you know there’s no going back from. Nodding your head with your bottom lip tucked between your teeth, you even help him, lifting your legs when he pulls them from around your ankles.

Steve stuffs the satin in his pocket ignoring the way you tell him that you want them back. His pink tongue that’s seconds away from being your undoing wets his lips, jaw going tight at the sight in front of him. Roses bloom on his tan cheeks, and he can’t help but run a hand through his hair, the reality setting in that he really has you like this. He looks completely wrecked. At least it isn’t just you.

“Fuck.” He breathes, the blunt ends of his nails digging into the dough of your thighs, shuffling himself even closer, his eyes glaze over.

Goosebumps pebble across your buzzing skin, your velvet walls fluttering around nothing as you lose the witty response you had saved on the tip of your tongue, managing just a quiet, “I thought you were supposed to show me somethin’?”

His lips twitch so close to where you need him most that you can almost feel the curve of them, your knees bending just a little more, urging him on by his shoulders.

“So impatient,” he tsks, the vibrations of his words only making it worse, “My girl needs me huh? She missed me as much as I missed her didn’t she?”

“Steve - shut uhhhhohmygod!”

His mouth latches onto your cunt like he’s thirsty for everything you’re offering him, collecting your dripping honey that’s sweet on his tongue. Running a broad stripe up your folds, his grip on your thighs tightens when you start to squirm, holding you in place, as he swirls messy circles on your bundle of nerves before sucking it hard enough for your head to fall back against the car. Your fingers bury themselves into the sweaty silk of his hair, pulling harshly at the roots, earning the kind of grunt that has you whimpering, dripping down the stubble on his chin as your hips buck up to meet him.

Letting you go with a loud pop, he huffs out a dark laugh at your whine, hardly giving you time to recover before pulling you even further down the hood of the car, till your ass hangs off the edge. The tip of his nose brushes against your sensitive clit while his tongue begins to tease your entrance that quivers just for him. The new angle has you practically sitting on his face, and before you have a chance to overthink it he slowly starts to work you open with his greedy mouth.

”Holy shit I -“ Your eyelids droop, jaw going slack as he starts to move side to side, licking into you like you’re the sweetest prize. His nose adds just the right amount of pressure while he eats you up like a man starved, “You’re gonna - fuck - Steve!”

His hands move from your thighs to the soft fat of your ass, encouraging your hips more, and if you weren’t so far gone, you’d be scared you’re suffocating him. You dare to look down at the scene between your legs, and it’s almost enough to have you cumming all over his face. His pitch-black eyes gaze up at you enamored, completely lost and still hungry because after all these years it’s still not enough. He moans into your folds when you meet his half-lidded stare, the sensation vibrating in all the right places, making your legs shake.

The feeling of your walls pulsing tight around his tongue, knowing how close you are already has him twitching painfully hard in his coveralls. It’s enough to ignore the discomfort of his knees, doubling down on the movements of his jaw. His name bounces off the metal and concrete, while the roll of your hips gets more and more aggressive because it feels like he’s eating you from the inside out, the tip of his tongue reaching the spot that makes you gasp.

“Right there, shit, right there, right there, I’m gonna, oh my god I’m gonna cum!”

Your scream is silent, body going rigid, giving into him already. The muscles in your legs tense, as your thighs squeeze tight around his head while your pussy tries to push him out but he only doubles down with a completely relentless tongue. He moans loud enough inside you to hear through the ringing in your ears, your fingers curling harshly in his thick locks, back hitting the metal of the hood again.

He ignores the first few pushes against his forehead when his kitten licks become too much before he finally listens. Sticky legs fall open releasing him from a trap he never asked to escape from, his shiny wet lips leaving kisses along your shaking thighs, tickling the supple skin with the stubble on his jaw. You feel his tongue dart out to collect everything he missed, earning the kind of sweet noises he can’t wait to hear all summer long.

Steve stands up wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and you try to be mad at his smug grin but your body can’t help its reaction to the way he struggles against his coveralls. The hard outline of dick reminds you of the stretch that you know will ruin you for anyone else, spent walls fluttering despite yourself.

”Now what was that you were saying a few minutes ago, pretty girl?” Leaning down, his palms find a new home on either side of your head.

The whites of his teeth shine at the eyeroll you find enough energy to give him, even with your legs wrapped around his waist. His nose nudges the tip of yours, the playful glint in his eyes changes into something lovesick and it brings the ache in your chest back because you know it’s going to hurt even worse walking away again.

“Hey, what’s going on up there?” He questions, placing a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth, eyebrows furrowing as he searches your face for answers.

You don’t give him one, pushing aside the worry for when you lay awake in the middle of the night. Instead, you let your fingers wrap themselves in the cotton of his tank top, pulling him to your lips that silently beg him to help you forget. He meets you with an eager mouth, and a big hand that comes up to rest on your flushed cheek. The pad of his thumb traces the high bone while his tongue asks you for permission for more.

Your thighs lock tighter around his waist, granting him the access he wants, tasting yourself all over him. Shaking fingers find the zipper of his jumper, tugging down the metal, he helps your shimmy off his sleeves. The freckles that dot his shoulders like the night sky beg you to open your eyes as the top of his coveralls fall to his sides, the rock of his hips making you say his name like it’s the sweetest thing.

“Want you,” you whisper with a nip at his bottom lip, ankles crossing at the two dips you know are on his lower back.

”Baby,” He groans, dropping his head down, burying it in the crook of your neck as you roll your pussy over the length of him that’s still covered by the navy blue material you can’t seem to get off fast enough.

He lets you do it a few more times before his hands find both your wrists, pinning them above your head, he peppers kisses along your jaw, letting his fingers glide down the length of your body, making sure to catch his chain still hanging off your neck as he stands back up. You finally get a good look at him, and the sight is enough to know the memory of today will be etched into the corners of your mind, just like the rest of them.

Pink cheeks still kissed by the sun, and dark chestnut hair that matches his eyes twist at its golden ends in an even bigger mess now on the top of his head. The thick thatch of it on his chest curling from the sweat that drips down his neck, leaving translucent patches along the white cotton of his tank top, teasing even more of him to your starving gaze. His uniform hangs low on his hips, giving you a glimpse of the waistband of his boxer briefs, making you tug your bottom lip between your teeth. He grabs at the sides of your thighs, his handsome face going kind.

“You came in here ready to tell me to fuck off,” he laughs softly, thumbs rubbing gentle circles, “I just need to know this is what you really want.”

His words tighten in your chest, forcing you to make a decision so that when you have no one else to blame but yourself when you lay awake in your apartment with a broken heart in the fall, you can’t hate him anymore.

“I really want it.”

The answer stumbles past your lips before you can think too hard about it, pulling the rest of your rucked up dress over your head, leaving you completely exposed for his heavy chocolate eyes to drink in. Despite the muggy heat of the garage, your nipples pebble under it, cheeks going hot because you always feel like the most beautiful girl in the world when Steve Harrington looks at you like this.

It’s all the encouragement he needs to let you go and do the same with his tank top, tossing it to the side before shoving the rest of his uniform down the tops of his thighs. Thick, long and heavy, your eyes widen as his hard length springs free, smacking against the happy trail at the bottom of his stomach. The pink tip leaks for you, shining with precum, while his big hand wraps around it, tugging a few times and making you drip more on the hood.

“I’ll go slow,” he coos, leaning down to capture your lips in something sweeter than the rest of them. “I know you can take it, honey.”

Nodding your head, you look up at him with glassy eyes, completely giving in, shutting off the part of your brain that’s telling you that you know better. Spreading your legs wider, his eyebrows marry in the middle of his forehead, cursing under his breath at the sight of you like this. He silently thanks whatever gods or girl that got Eddie sick, because this moment shatters any fantasies that have consumed his late nights.

He runs the length of his cock through your slick, spreading you apart around him, earning the kind of mewl that makes him twitch in his hand. Your back arches off the corvette when he does it again only this time with added pressure to your clit. Locking your legs around his waist, you make sure he doesn’t get away.

”So fuckin’ beautiful baby, Jesus Christ, look at you.” Steve grunts, lining himself up with your entrance, pushing just the tip into the tightening silk of your walls before both his hands find their way back to your hips, fingers digging into soft flesh. ”Wanna make you feel so good. You gonna let me?”

“Mmhmm,” you whimper a little high pitch and out of breath, letting go of all the control you’ve hung onto for the last five years with a dirty roll of your hips that begs to suck him in.

“Oh fuck, you’re still so - shit.” Steve practically whines, his jaw going hard with eyebrows that pinch together, trying to regain his composure from the way you pulse around him just nudging halfway in, the aftershocks of your first orgasm have you feeling every ridge of his cock, lighting your body up.

The stretch burns, your eyes rolling in the back of your head as flames lick deep in your gut from the feeling you’ll never get enough of. His calloused fingers grab at your chin, demanding your attention. Your lashes tickle the tops of your cheeks as you force them back open, only to find his face is closer now, both his palms landing on either side of your head, black iris’s threatening to drown you, holding your gaze with the kind of intensity that makes your heart palpitate.

”I want to look at you.” He breathes against your lips as one swift thrust has you completely filled up.

”Steve!”

Gasping into his mouth, it takes all of your strength to keep your eyes open, focusing on the imperfect circles of the chestnut freckles that explode across the bridge of his nose.

“Yeah?” He smirks, pressing his forehead against yours, the rough hair on his chest tickling the softness of your breasts, nipples pebbling as your arms wrap around his neck.

“It feels, you feel -“

A loud moan rumbles from the back of your throat when the tip of him hits the spot that makes your toes curl into the fat of his ass, pushing him even deeper, the ends of your nails dig pretty marks all over his shoulders.

“Tell me, baby. Tell me how good it feels.” He grunts, sucking your bottom lip between his teeth, the roll of his hips becoming a slow grind.

His pelvic bone hits your bundle of nerves just right while the tip of him bullies the spot that has your eyes threatening to close against his wishes, and it has you sounding like ‘Steve’ is the only word you’ve ever known. It’s a hazy mess inside your mind, especially when he looks at you like this. It’s worse than before, and you don’t know how you’re going to find your way back this time, something different inside of his gaze that you know is going to make it impossible.

”Missed you so much, so damn gorgeous angel, think about you all the time. All the fucking time.” Steve babbles, completely drunk off the way you flutter at his words, the angry facade you’ve been putting on crumbling around him as your body lets the truth come out.

The confession makes your chest tighten with all the unresolved feelings you’ve shoved down for so long, the ones you almost forgot were there until a few weeks ago. Fingers curling into the hair on the nape of his neck you lean up, capturing his lips to shut him up, rocking your hips to meet his thrust. He grunts into your mouth, cock twitching against your walls, eagerly licking into your mouth.

It’s easier to get lost in him without the reminder of what used to be, teeth scraping together as the kiss gets messier. The metal of the car crunches and bends under your movements, but neither one of you can find it in you to care with noses pressing into each other's cheeks, tongues fighting for the kind of dominance your hips are at war about.

Steve is the one that breaks first, coming up for air, with eyes that seem even darker than before as he pushes himself up to stand. Big hands grab at your hips as a loose strand of hair falls across his forehead. Pulling halfway out, he takes a moment to admire the sheen you coat him, pink tongue darting out to lick his swollen lips before shoving himself all the way back in.

”Oh my god!” You gasp, throwing your head back against the hood, your hands landing on top of his, fingernails digging into the tops of them.

“I wanna watch you cum again, can you do that for me, baby?” He tugs you closer, your body squeaking across the metal that tries to stick to your skin, the tip of him hitting that spot again.

Nodding your head, every hard thrust of his hips echoes through the garage, the car shaking underneath you as tires threaten to roll. He feels himself getting close, the pad of his thumb finding your clit to rub the kind of messy circles that have you saying his name just how he likes.

“Come on, let me see how pretty you can get, let me have it.” He coos, finding the perfect combination to make you come undone all over him.

Your walls clench hard enough to try and push him out but he just buries himself deeper, a loud groan rumbling from his chest watching the way your face contorts with pleasure. White dances behind your heavy lids that squeeze shut as your legs start to shake around his waist. You try to shove his hand away, but he refuses, remaining relentless, milking your second orgasm for everything it's worth, making you cum even harder.

“Yeah, that’s it, that’s iiiiit, so fuckin’ good for me.” He praises, completely lost in the way your body responds to him and it’s enough to send him flying over the edge he’d been teetering on since had you against the garage door.

A string of curse words falls pretty from his lips, twitching hard inside you and with the last bit of strength you have, you squeeze him even tighter, relishing in the way his jaw goes slack because of it. The movements of his thumb finally end its assault so he can grab onto your sides with both hands, fingers digging bruises as one last hard thrust has his warmth filling you up.

The feeling of being so full sends your body buzzing, watching him fall apart on top of you with sweat dripping off the ends of his hair. His head drops between his shoulders, body shaking as his orgasm rakes through him. Red cheeks and skin so warm it rivals the sun, he lets himself collapse on top of you, burying his face in the crook of your neck totally spent, still chasing his high with a slow circle of his hips.

Your nose finds its way into his damp hair, inhaling deeply because it somehow smells even better than before. You wrap your arms around his shoulders even though you know you should leave and forget this ever happened, but it feels too good to have hands sliding up your curves as he starts to drip out of you and onto the car.

“God, Eddie’s going to kill me.” He mumbles against your skin, making you squirm because it tickles, and you can feel him smile because of it.

“How’s he gonna find out?” You giggle, the metal of the Corvette popping under your shifting weight.

”Baby.” Steve snorts, leaving a kiss on the curve of your jaw before pushing himself up on his elbows, the endearment falling too easily off his tongue in a casual way, reminding you very quickly of your reality.

It’s harder to meet his eyes that search for yours, but you do anyway. They’re warm again, like a dark sand beach and it's hard not to want to lay out a towel and live inside them. Both of you wince as he pulls himself out, cursing under his breath at your walls staying greedy and trying to pull him back in.

He doesn’t notice the shift in your demeanor pulling up his coveralls and tying the sleeves around his waist, or if he does he chooses to ignore it, grabbing your dress off the floor before offering you his hand. There’s less grease staining them now and you know it's because it's all over you, completely marked by him nearly head to toe whether you like it or not.

Sliding your hand in his, you duck your head down as you take it, legs wobbling when your feet hit the ground, not missing the smug grin that pushes up his cheeks clocking it. You go for your dress but Steve just tuts at you pulling it out of reach, ignoring your scoff he shakes it out before lifting it above your head signaling for you to put your arms up. Rolling your eyes with a smile you can’t fight, you pretend not to feel the butterfly wings tickling your ribcage, turning around and doing as he asks, letting him drag the soft cotton down your body. Calloused fingertips tracing the goosebumps they create.

”Let’s go get cleaned up in the bathroom,” he hums softly, grabbing you by the hips, and pressing a kiss into the fresh bruise behind your ear.

You tell yourself you’ll leave after this letting him guide you by the waist and a chin on your shoulder. You think it again when the small space of the bathroom is filled with giggles and bashful smiles as he sits you on the closed toilet seat, wetting paper towels that turn into mache in his hands. You scream at yourself to do it watching him try and fix his hair in the mirror after wiping you down the best he can, pressing kisses on both your kneecaps.

“I’ve been using this new product, but nothing hits like Farrah. I can’t believe they discontinued it. Dustin swears he can find me some, but who knows if you can even trust it’s the real deal, you know?”

Steve interrupts your inner turmoil with a face that’s far too serious for the words that just left his mouth and the thoughts running through your head. Your mood shifts almost instantly with a laugh loud enough to turn his cheeks the color of your toes, giving you an exaggerated eye roll despite the twitch of his lips.

“I can’t believe you still hang out with a middle schooler.” You tease, getting up on your feet, legs feeling a little less like jello but the reminder between your thighs only seems to intensify.

”I told you he’s like 19 - “

”Whatever you gotta tell yourself, Steve,” you grin, taking the break in the intensity of everything to try and work up the self-control to leave, wincing at the echoing clack of your flip flops that give you away instantly.

”Wait, where are you going?” Steve’s brows furrow in confusion, turning around to face you, he tightens the sleeves wrapped around his waist, biceps flexing while all the playfulness drains from his eyes.

”I should go before Robin -“

”What? No, she’ll be fine, it’s like noon. I’m sure she’s not even awake yet.”

“Steve.”

”Honey.”

The two of you face off in a silent challenge, stares unwavering, mimicking each other with arms crossover over your chests.

“Don’t run again.” He pleads with a whisper that’s barely audible against the beating of your heart in your ears, the room feeling smaller.

“I’m not running, I’m walking.” You try to lighten the mood with a joke, the corners of your eyes stinging but you refuse to acknowledge why.

”I’m not letting you walk home.”

“It’s down the road-“

“I don’t care! You’re not walking. Let me close up and then I’ll at least drive you.”

You don’t argue with the hurt expression on his face, you can’t.

It’s somehow even hotter outside when the two of you sneak out the side door of the garage. A different kind of tension hangs thick in the air putting the humidity to shame, even with the sun shimmering from the highest point in the sky. His skin glows like liquid gold in its rays as he walks in front of you, your eyes following the movements of his freckled shoulders that flex with every swing on his arms. Rolling your bottom lip between your teeth, you hate the pit that settles deep in your gut because you don’t want to say goodbye just yet. Another consequence of a choice you made rearing its ugly head.

You aren’t expecting him to open the passenger door for you, the metal creaking loudly breaking a silence that’s filled with a thousand unspoken words just hanging on the tip of both of your tongues waiting to fill up the space. His gaze meets yours from under the thick length of his lashes, the corners of his lips twisting at the way you get bashful from the gesture.

”Thanks,” you whisper, catching a whiff of his cologne as you duck into the passenger seat that’s starting to feel like yours again.

He just hums in response, shutting it quickly and trapping you inside a metal box filled with every smell that reminds you of him. It pulls at your heart, and intensifies the burn between your thighs. Your fingers come up to twist the metal that still dangles from your neck, and you’re not sure you can bring yourself to give it back after this. The already small space of the car shrinks even more when the driver side door opens and he slides in next to you with a huff, keys jingling loudly in his hand closing the door behind him.

His shoulders brush with yours shoving the keys in the ignition, the seat vibrating underneath you as the beemer quietly roars to life. He keeps his hand on the stick shift, sweat slick skin pressing into yours shifting the car into drive. The radio isn’t as loud as you thought it’d be considering the way he was blasting it in the shop. Meatloaf’s I’d Do Anything For Love spills out of the speakers and you try not to laugh at the irony, scrambling to think of what to say to him as Robin’s apartment complex quickly comes into view.

But he never stops.

“Steve, what are you doing?” You sigh, crossing your arms across your chest watching the baby blue paneling of her apartments whiz past.

“This is technically my lunch break, and I’m hungry.” He shrugs, glancing at you with something mischievous in his eyes that you want to smack away because it makes your heart skip a beat, “You’re telling me you’re not starving after that honey?”

Smacking your lips together, you roll your eyes as hard as you can, trying to hide the smile that pushes up your cheeks.

“Wow, your confidence always just astounds me.” Shaking your head, your sarcastic laugh only makes him grin.

”I think you like it.”

You can’t bring yourself to deny it, fluttering your lashes at him with an attitude instead.

”But if you really can’t stand the thought of spending like another hour with me, I’ll turn around right now, honey.” You know he means it, feeling his foot slowly press on the brake in anticipation for your answer, “Just say the words.”

‘Say it, say turn around Steve.’

“Take me somewhere with fries.”

When you left Robin’s house this morning, you didn’t think watching Steve juggle two shakes and a large order of fries to the booth you’re sitting at with a heart so full it threatens to crack your chest, was where you’d end up at. His cheeks flush a deep shade red almost losing his footing, lovesick eyes too busy staring at you to watch where his boots land.

God, this was not a part of the plan.

“I got you strawberry,” his grin is proud, remembering your favorite from high school when he drops your cool treat in front of you, and instead of sliding into the seats across the table, he plops down into the spot right next to you, knees bumping underneath the wood.

“What if I wanted chocolate?” You tease, body turning into a lit match pressing into his side.

“That’s what I got, and maybe, if you ask nicely,” he breathes, leaning in close enough for the tips of your noses to brush, “I’ll share.”

You wonder if he can hear the way you swallow at his tone over that oldies station that plays in the Hawkins Diner.

“No thanks, you can keep your cooties.” Sighing, you have to fight the twitch of your lips tearing your eyes away from him to focus on the fried potatoes in front of you.

”I think it’s a little late for that baby, I’m afraid you’re completely covered in them.” He doesn’t hesitate to press a sloppy kiss on your cheek that's loud enough to catch the attention of the girls that’d been staring at him since the two of you walked in.

”Steve!” You try to scold, but the smile that spreads across your face gives you up, even if you wipe the kiss away with the back of your hand.

”What?” He smirks, grabbing a few fries and plopping them in his mouth and you try not to focus on the way his tongue darks out to collect the salt left over on his lips.

“I can’t stand you.”

It’s impossible to keep a straight face around him, even avoiding the playful gold that swirls in his gaze that hasn’t stopped showering you with adoration.

“Whatever you have to tell yourself to sleep better at night.” He shrugs, taking a big swig of his shake, subtly scooting closer so your thighs touch.

The two of you eat in a peaceful silence for a few minutes, your head swimming with questions as your morning starts to really sink in. But your nerves make it impossible to focus on just one, especially every time you fingers brush, catching his small smirk from the corner of your eyes.

”So tell me something,” you try, ignoring the slight shake in your voice, “How did Steve Harrington, ‘king of Hawkins’, become a mechanic? I always thought you’d be in some big office with a suit working for your dad.”

You notice the sour look that contorts the handsome features on his face at the former nickname again and you immediately feel bad for saying it. His thick eyebrows furrow, marrying in the middle as he tries to shake it off with a few harsh blinks grabbing another handful of fries.

”Umm, I did work for my dad’s firm for like six months actually.” He confesses, clearing his throat before tossing them into his mouth. “I think we hate each other even more now.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude that's not why I asked -“

”Honey, you’re fine.” He smiles warmly, a big palm finding the top of our thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze before letting it occupy the space permanently.

”Turns out I’m a terrible office manager. I’d get super overwhelmed, which made me disorganized and we’d lose clients making my dad pissed, then one day I just kinda snapped after he laid into me in his office. Had a panic attack and then never showed my face there again.”

”Steve-“

“I knew he was going to fire me anyway, it’s fine” he laughs, running his free hand through his hair, the other sliding down your thigh so his thumb can rub circles into the soft skin next to your knee cap.

“So I wallowed in self pity for a month before Eddie started needing help at the shop. At first it just gave me something to do, he’d teach me a few things and turns out, I’m actually pretty good at it. It honestly feels really fucking freeing to stop being the person everyone expected me to be.”

He smiles with all his teeth, the kind of pride radiating off of him that makes the hard brick wall you’ve built around yourself start to soften, cracks forming in its foundation.

”Well, it looks good on you Harrington.” You have to look away when you say it, the butterflies becoming unbearable, because you weren’t supposed to feel like this. “I guess.”

He snorts at your stubbornness, bumping shoulders with you before snatching your strawberry shake earning the kind of glare that makes him realize he’s never going to get over you.

Steve’s one hour lunch turns into two, almost becoming three getting lost in the kind of conversation that barely scratches the surface of everything you’ve missed. It’s all hushed tones, sweet eyes, and linked fingers that threaten to make you fold again, with the only thing saving you is the reminder of the mess you made on top of his client's Corvette, and Steve reluctantly admitting he needed to leave so he didn’t actually lose his job in the morning.

It didn’t matter though, he got his date.

And when he pulls up to Robin’s he doesn’t hesitate to steal your breath away, grabbing you by the chin, giving you the kind of kiss over the center console that leaves you dizzy, just like in high school. He doesn’t ask for his chain back, and you don’t offer it, bounding up the stairs to the apartment with it shimmering against your chest.

🌻chapter five

#my writing #steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x y/n #mechanic!steve #mechanic!eddie

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utterlyotterlyx · 2 months

Text

A Fate Inked In Starlight

Eris x Fem!Reader x Azriel

Summary - After crashing into the Autumn Court with no idea who you are, where you are or how you got there, Eris takes it upon himself to hide you and care for you with the help of the Night Court. That is until souls from other walks of life infiltrate Prythian searching for you.

Warnings - mentions of blood, Eris being gentle 🥺, memory loss, kinda arsehole Rhys?x

Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five

Leaves of red and orange peered down at you inquisitively, and the earth was hard and slightly damp beneath you.

You hissed as you moved, a metallic sting coating the inside of your mouth. The world tilted, a dull thumping in your mind swelled behind your eyes and you pinched the bridge of your nose in attempt to centre yourself.

It hadn’t worked.

Looking about, you drank in where you had awoken, soil and an array of foliage welcomed your sight, dark bark held onto browning leaves, some of which floated around where you sat. Light birdsong and the faint chirp of crickets flittered around you with the occasional crunch of dry twigs that snapped under the weight of the mammals that trotted by, not heading much mind to you.

You were clad in some kind of black armour, a second skin that fit you perfectly as it curved around your breasts and hips, the material splitting open in the shape of lightening across your chest where yellow gems and light hummed. Jewelled metal talons were fitted to your fingertips, coated with dry blood that had worked itself into each crevasse it could. You were sure that whatever you looked like was not a pretty sight.

Something had kept you glued to your spot, swaying slightly from the brute force that had clearly been wrecked upon you. From what you had no idea.

From the distance, you heard the beating of hooves against the hard ground, growing louder with each passing moment before a brilliant white stag exploded into the clearing where you were. It was beautiful, those pools of emerald bore into you, there was terror laced behind them, and the stag readied his attack as he lowered his antlers toward you.

“I’m not going to harm you,” you told the creature with an extended hand, an extension of your surrender, “I promise.”

The stag surveyed you, noting the wild hair that had fallen from a once tightly strung braid, the blood that coated your neck and fingers, the bewilderment in your eyes. No, you certainly weren’t a threat.

“I’m not sure how I came to be here. I don’t know where I am,” you continued, as if the stag would be able to answer any of your questions.

The creature relaxed, taking a tentative step forward to sniff the outstretched talons fixed to your fingertips. He huffed and shook his head, one of his hooves tapping against the ground as another sound entered your earshot.

“Dogs,” you said softly, sadness laced in your rough voice that scratched at your throat. “Go. I’ll distract them,” you turned your hand, exposing your palm to him, he rested his snout in it gently, and only for a moment before he bounded away. Leaping over molehills whilst leaving you alone once more.

The barking drew closer and your breath caught in your throat at the obvious number of hounds that approached your position, perhaps mistaking your blood for that of the stags.

They hurtled into the clearing, the hedges and flowers parting for them as they surged through the air and landed in front of you, mouths pulled back and snarling teeth ready to tear you apart. You shuffled back as they circled you, snapping, slobber dripping from their canines causing your heart rate to beat in your ears. Hitting the trunk of a tree, you sighed, realising there were no weapons attached to the leather holsters at your thighs made your current predicament a lot more complicated.

You wouldn’t dream of harming an animal, at least, you thought so.

A flutter of your heart gave way to gentle excitement when you had seen the stag, and even the dogs despite them wanting to turn you into a meal.

A sharp whistle tore their attention from you, pulling them back to the source as he too entered the clearing. His head was tilted to the side and he examined you with a hand resting on the hilt of his sword, assessing if you were a threat or not. Red hair and amber eyes found you, and he approached, splitting his gaze between you and your laboured breathing to the scene around you both.

“Who are you?” His voice was rough but held a stoic calm, the deepness of his words made your hairs stand on edge.

A simple question. Your name. You opened your mouth but nothing came out, you stuttered, eyes wide as nothing came to mind, “I, I don’t know.”

You were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Wide doe eyes staring at him in bewilderment, he knew your skin would be soft despite the mud and blood coating your surface. The sharp jaw and hallowed cheeks, full pouted lips and an elegantly pointed nose. Too beautiful for a human or fae.

The confusion etched into every inch of your features made the man relax a little, he knelt before you, his dogs happy with wagging tails brushing against his side, “Do you know where you came from?” By the looks of your armour, the blood coated talons, and the cuts dug into the side of your neck, it was clear to him that you weren’t from Prythian. You looked too advanced for his world.

You shook your head, muttering a faint and weak answer to him.

He hummed, reaching to tuck a strand of your dirty matted hair behind your pointed ear. Fae, he noted. Smiling when you didn’t flinch under his touch, he offered a hand to you, it was calloused and rough, but his pressure was gentle and guiding as he helped you from the ground.

“I’m Eris Vanserra, and you’re in the Autumn Court,” he looked down at you through thick lashes and offered a warm smile.

“Eris,” his name fell from your lips and he nodded in encouragement as you familiarised yourself with the sound of it. Yes, you definitely weren’t from his world, if you were, you’d surely cower from his name and the mention of where you were.

A pressure consumed your feet, and you found one of his hounds sat on them, staring up at you with its panting tongue flopping against the side of its jaw, its tail rustling the leaves beneath it as it wagged happily, “That’s enough, Duke,” Eris scolded the hound, rubbing between his ears in a bid to get him to move, “I’m sorry about him.”

“Don’t be. I don’t mind,” you smiled, and he noticed the warmth in your eyes, the molten gold and ocean blue that could have him entranced if he wasn’t careful. “I’m sorry about this,” you motioned the air, the current situation you found yourselves in, “I wish I knew what to say.”

“It’s fine,” he frowned slightly as he peered at the still open flesh on your neck that leaked with every heartbeat, “Let me help you with that.”

“I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

Eris smirked, “You’re not asking,” he shrugged as he heading back in the direction from whence he came, adjusting his brown jacket which lay over a cream open collared shirt. You weren’t sure how you didn’t notice it before, the well fit pants and shirt, the adornment of fine rings across his digits. Eris Vanserra was clearly someone of high standing, and you felt stupid for not knowing. The disappointment felt foreign to you.

The male looked back at you expectantly, his well kept fiery red hair tousling over his forehead, freckles visible as the sunlight hit his face. “Thank you,” you followed his steps, Duke trotting alongside you like a personal guard.

Once you had made it back to Fir Manor, Eris’ private residence that was home to him and his hounds alone, he insisted that you bathe, that it would be easier for the healer to assess the damage if she could tell what was or wasn’t your own blood.

You didn’t need telling twice, you thanked Eris for the spare clothes, a sheer deep red dress, before you slipped into the bathroom and peeled off your second skin, paying no mind to the marks that littered your forearms and torso, the marks that covered every inch of your body.

It seemed silly. To be so trusting of someone you’d just met. But something told you that Eris wasn’t a threat to you. Something had allowed you to feel safe with him.

You sighed as the hot water worked to relax your muscles, the rest of the world fading away into blissful nothingness.

Rhys was happy.

Finally happy.

A mate and a babe. A family. No danger for the first time in what felt like a millennia.

Rhys watched them, watched his Nyx swaddled into Feyre’s chest as she painted, humming some lullaby to the dozing babe. Light poured into the room from the domed glass and he let a content sigh pass through his lips from where he leaned against the doorframe. Relishing in the sight for a moment longer before retreating back to his office and closing the door with a soft click.

He wasn’t sure where the rest of them were, Mor would be returning from the human lands soon, Cassian and Azriel were surely training, Nesta was probably nose deep in another book in the library with Amren at her side, and Elain was tucked away with Lucien somewhere revelling in their newly accepted mating bond.

Everything was as it should be.

The papers on his desk were too chaotic for anyone else to understand but him, he knew where each treaty lay in the stack, where each letter from a concerned citizen sat, when Az’s countless reports waited for his eye.

Though, one thing caught his eye that definitely hadn’t been there before he’d gone to check on his mate and child. A folded up rip of parchment, singed at the edges with an aroma of wet grass gripping to it.

It reeked of Autumn, of Eris.

Rhys wasn’t worried that the heir had contacted him. They were planning for a better Autumn once Beron handed over his title, it wasn’t out of the ordinary to hear from the eldest Vanserra at all. Scanning the parchment, Rhys felt his interest grow in the words, the vague message that beckoned him to Fir Manor, telling him that someone had dropped into the forest who Rhys may be interested in meeting.

So, the High Lord of the Night Court stalked through the halls, parchment in hand as the clash of swords and jostling laughter flooded his senses. Then he saw them, his two brothers in their training leathers, wide smiles and bruises that would fade within the hour as they jabbed another with playful words.

“Ah, did you call on Rhys to come and save you, Az? How desperate,” Cassian glimmered, his wings rustling and body keeping guard against Azriel’s oncoming attack.

Rhys stepped between them, holding the parchment in the air between his fingers with a smirk on his lips as Azriel to it from him, scanning the words, “With no memory of where she came from?” Azriel questioned, his shadows curling over his shoulders as though they wished to see what held their masters attention whilst he handed the written words to Cassian who pouted about being left out.

“Do you remember the visitor we had not too long ago?”

Azriel smirked at the memory of the redhead scouring through the caves of Prythian, “Bryce?”

“Yes, Bryce.” Rhys sent a glare to Cassian, no doubt still unhappy at his mates willingness to aid the girl, “She too fell into our world out of nowhere, didn’t she?”

Cassian stopped the thought before it could be shared, “Yes, but Bryce knew who she was and why she came here. It seems this woman doesn’t share that similarity,” he turned the paper over in his hand, like some newfound information was going to be inscribed elsewhere.

From the brief information that Eris had sent to Rhys, the woman who had fell into the Autumn had no idea who she was or where she was let alone how she found herself bleeding in a different world from her own.

“Regardless,” Rhys’ eyes glowed at the hidden message Cassian had tried to convey, that maybe this woman had nothing to do with Bryce and whatever war she was fighting on her shores. Though Cassian did have to admit that it was a coincidence that another soul had floated through into their world. “It needs to be investigated. Azriel, you’ll come with me. Cassian, you’ll stay here.”

The pair knew better than to convince Rhys otherwise, Azriel especially knew better than to refuse and potentially put his home and people in danger.

Another invader had dove into his world, his home, and he’d be damned by the Mother if he let another one trick him again.

Authors Note

Hi my loves!

It’s been a while. I know I’m usually a Bridgerton girly but I’m kinda obsessed with everything SJM right now.

So, here we are. My first Maasverse fic 🤷‍♀️

I am wanting to write a series on this so let me know what you think! I’ve been out of the game for a bit 🤍

#azriel #rhysand #cassian #eris vanserra #eris acotar #eris x reader #acotar #acotar fanfiction #azriel x reader #azriel x you #feysand #acotar imagine #maasverse #mor acotar #amren acotar #crescent city #crescent city imagine #bryce quinlan

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sashi-ya · 3 months

Text

a valentine's mini story 𝑻𝑹𝑼𝑻𝑯 𝑺𝑬𝑹𝑼𝑴 trafalgar law x f! reader

🩰 tw: a soft sfw story. spoilers from the last anime episode (not manga). happy valentine's day! 💕 🦢 wc: 923

“I LOVE YOU; I LOVE YOU; I LOVE YOU (NAME)-YA!” “ME???”

If there is something Law has passed are different types of “illnesses”; from amber lead to being feminized against his will. Now, as if that wasn’t enough, the truth serum had been injected into his body and his lips couldn’t get sealed any longer.

Your kneels hit the ground, with widen orbs and opened mouth.

“What- what did you gave him?!” you scream, kicking and trying to be let go. Just two people have fooled you two, and now you are taken hostage by a guy of who knows how many meters tall.

The era of piracy is so full of this random -and annoying- devil fruit users that sometimes it can take you by surprise. Today, was the day a couple of unknown pirates decided to mess with you two.

“Oh, just the Truth Serum. Isn’t it amazing? This fruit came to me like a gift of the Gods!” a lady, quite peculiar, laughs loudly at her victim. Who could have said someone that powerful like Trafalgar Law could be defeated so easily?

Her filthy hand grazes Law’s forehead. He is drenched in sweat, also kneeling down. He is desperate to help you, but her unstoppable tongue can’t stop saying how much he loves you.

And that, to you -but probably not for the rest of the crew if they were there - is surprising.

“He seems to love you, mh? Such good timing for Valentines! Well, then, in order to spare her life, he will cooperate… right? You have those Poneglyph right?” that villainess says, slapping Law’s cheek.

Law feels miserable and absolutely embarrassed; not even his strong Haki can undo the spell of such stupid fruit ability. Or maybe it is also relieving to finally confess to you?

“Law, don’t- don’t worry- I’ll be fine! Don’t give her shit!” you scream, looking away. You, who are also deeply in love with him but never confessed, can’t look him in the eyes.

“No, I won’t let them touch you any longer. You are mine! I won’t let them hurt you!” he shouts, desperate. Never -and probably ever again- you will hear those words being screamed into the world like the public statement of pure romance.

You dare to cross sights with him, even if in pain as that brute is holding you like a kitten by your shirt collar up in the air. Your gazes are so intense, the world around seems to disappear for a moment. Why it has to be in this situation?

“Law! I am in l-!”

You take a big gasp of air, and when your tongue begins moving, ready to give him your own confession… something happens.

“HAYAAAAAAH!!!”

A big ball of white fur covered in bright orange suit appears to save the day; a strong kick to the back of that villain sends her flying away. Law has enough time to break himself the spell, as well as using a little rock to exchange your body for it.

It doesn’t take much more for Penguin and Shachi to give Law his beloved Kikkoku; a blade he uses to slash -but not hurt- both attackers. They both ask themselves why their heads are floating around detached from their necks, but that’s just a little taste of what it means to mess with a man like him.

Soon enough, and to your amusement, his arm surrounds your waist and quickly he runs away from “the scene”.

A coward? Not really. There was something Law needed to do, now that the truth has seen the light.

“L-Law? Are- are you ok? Stop. Stop!” you demand, asking for him to put you on your feet.

He tries to find the farthest spot; the secluded place possible. It’s enough with you listening to his “pathetic” confession -and the rest of the island too.-

When he finally puts you down, his inked hands run through all of your body. He needs to make sure you are fine. You are, indeed, more than fine… you have just realized he loves you as much as you love him.

“Scan!” he takes Kikkoku to asses your body in depth, but your hand intercepts him from doing so.

“Stop…” you sigh. Again, and as always, he is searching for every single way to avoid speaking about his feelings. “Law… it’s ok, I- I do feel the same…” you murmur, softly pushing the hilt of his katana down.

Law takes a deep breath. He can’t run away. Or he can?

The surgeon ponders the possibility of escaping from there. But wasn’t for his own body acting on behalf of his love, he might have probably done it. Luckily, his hand reaches your cheek, and his feet walk towards you.

“I love you too, Law” you repeat, looking down but still enjoying the delicate touch of his hand. A touch that migrates from cheek to your chin, lifting your head up to encounter your lips with his.

“I didn’t plan for this to go this way, (Name)-ya. I had flowers prepared for tonight… I really planned on confessing tonight; it’s just that my plans always get ruined”

“My sweat Law, when will they let you plan in peace? Did the kiss part came into the original plan?” you ask, coming even closer to his lips.

“No… I- I actually didn’t think you could-“

“My bad, it seems I am also going to ruin your plans this time. Now please, kiss me and never let me go”

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yorshie · 1 year

Text

Cistern

bayverse turtles x fem reader (No Y/N)

Summary: The Boys have a surprise pool party waiting for you in the sewers. Some lewd jokes if you squint. nicknames and fluff

set in 2023 so turtles are 22 ish

When you side stepped through the turnstiles and into the lair, you expected to be greeted by all four of the turtles. Instead, only the smallest of the brothers was there, playing away on his phone and humming a lively tune.

“Mikey?” You parked your butt on the table next to him, bare legs brushing against his arm as he looked up from whatever game he was using to pass the time.

“Hey, babycakes! Woo-woo, look at you!” He waggled his eye ridges, looking you up and down. “Really glad I drew the stick to bring you to the surprise.”

You felt your face heat up, but gave him a smile all the same, glancing down his body to take in the lack of weapons and his loose orange and black swim trucks. “Well, Leo said wear comfortable clothes I didn’t mind getting wet?”

“Heh.” The orange turtle pocketed his phone, using one movement to sway to his feet and lift you up into his arms. “Hope you’re ok with a bit of an adventure, babes. We gotta go through some of the larger tunnels to get where we’re going.”

You crossed your arms around his neck, slinging your bag up and over your stomach so he could get a better grip. “You’re not going to drop me into anything nasty, are you Angelo?”

“Oh, babes, I’d never drop you.” He winked, doing a little dance towards the entrance to make you laugh.

The sound of running water grew louder the closer you two got to the ‘surprise’. Mikey was horrible when it came to keeping secrets, especially when it involved anything his brothers planned that included you.

So far, you had weaseled out of him that there was a waterfall involved, and some sort of swimming would be required. That last bit worried you, but you comforted yourself that surely nothing too deep could exist in the underground system of tunnels.

At the last bend, Mikey slapped his large hand over your face and tucked your head into his shoulder, causing you to giggle as you fought to peek between his fingers. Finally, he let you win, and you were able to pull his hand down and lean back up to take in the view.

“Woah.” The word left your lips in a soft whisper.

Mikey had brought you to a giant stone cistern far below the city streets. Crystal clear blue water stretched off between columns as far as you could see. The arched ceiling was littered with lights to keep the light a soft glow. Against the furthest wall a rounded opening high above spilled water out into the pool. The ripples were the only disturbance, the crash of water somehow a distance echo with the calm ambiance.

“Took you long enough.” Leo’s soft voice, the eldest moving up a set of stone steps you’d completely missed. You flicked a look over him, his form a little alien without the twin swords strapped across his back and his arms uncovered.

“Don’t get jealous, Leo, that particular shade of green is unbecoming on you.” Mikey singsonged, causing his brother to roll his eyes.

“The water’s clean?” You asked, before you held up a hand, physically pushing the question away. “No, don’t answer that. That was a stupid question.”

Leo chuckled, but only tilted his head back towards the stairs, hand reaching out for you to pass your bag over. “Donnie’s been working on this for years, ever since we found it. We wanted to make sure everything worked as intended before we invited you down.”

You hummed back at him to show you were listening, clutching Mikey tighter as he all but skipped down the stairs to a path jutting out between the columns.

“You drop her, shell-brain, and I’ll beat your ass.”

You had to do a double take to find him, but Raph was floating in the water, peering up over the stone edge to eye his baby brother critically.

“Relax Raph, I’d never drop her. Throw her, however-”

You barely registered the words before you were flying through the air with a shriek, stomach ticking up in your throat before the swoop of the fall. You hit the cool water hard, limbs tangled and your side taking most of the hit.

You regretted never telling them you couldn’t swim.

You resisted the urge to take a breath, the shock of impact causing you to freeze up as you slipped under the surface. You had a moment of clear wonder at the way the light reflected like dancing arcs through the water and off the stone, before you realized the cistern was much deeper than you expected, and Mikey had thrown you well away from the wall.

Your chest was starting to burn, and you tried to think back to how people in movies swam. Before you could get through more than a handful of uncoordinated movements however, a strong grip circled your arm at the same time something shoved you from below. Looking down, you could see Leo’s shell, his arms twining around your legs to push you up towards the surface.

You broke the surface with a ragged gasp, sputtering as that large hand wrapped around your torso and pulled you off Leo’s shoulders.

Raph used his other hand to rub your back briskly, the up and down motion causing your shirt to pull at your skin.

Leo broke through the water in front of you, blinking back his second set of eyelids to glare at you. “You can’t swim?”

You floundered, sucked in a too loud breath, and watched as the knowledge settled in him and his ire turned to Mikey. “Mikey!”

“Woah, bro, how was I suppose to know?”

“This is why we don’t go tossin’ guests ‘round!” Raph thundered, aiming a splash at Mikey.

You gripped Raph’s arm tightly, bobbing in the water as he pulled you back towards the edge. When he tried to transfer you to the stone, however, you sunk your nails in, preferring the solid, constant aura of strength he oozed.

“Hey, babes, you ok?” Mikey was hunched on his hands and knees next to the edge, and you glanced up at him, blinking away water to meet his concerned gaze. Before you could say anything though, Raph grabbed the top lip of his shell and hauled him into the water with a squawk.

“Hold on, sweetheart, go to Leo so I can drown his ass.” His free hand kept Mikey effortlessly under the water despite his thrashing, and you all but threw yourself towards the turtle in blue to escape the sloshing water.

He slid an arm around your waist before pushing you up towards his shell, letting you sprawl across the width and grip the edge as he swam away from Mikey’s punishment.

“We should have asked if you could swim.” He offered over his shoulder, the sounds of fighting breaking out behind you both.

You twisted on his shell, peered over your shoulder to see Mikey had broken the surface and while Raph was big and angry, Mikey was just barely faster than him in the water.

“I should have told you guys. I just-”

“-didn’t think about it.” He finished, blue eyes clear of judgement. “I hope you aren’t scared now?” He was heading out into one of the larger sections of water, closer to the waterfall, and the ripples lapped over the curve of his shell and your legs as he cut through the water effortlessly.

“I don’t think it’s possible for me to be afraid with you guys around.” Leo let out a pleased rumble at your words, and you continued. “Speaking of, where’s Donnie?”

As though summoned, the water broke over the curve of the last brothers’ shell next to you, a squinty eyed Donnie peering up at you after blinking back his protective membrane.

“Hey, you made it.” He seemed pleased, reaching out to brush against your arm as he rolled over in the water to float on his shell, bare except for neon purple shorts. He grinned, knocking purposefully into Leo’s shell. “First time here and you’ve already turned Leo into a turtle taxi.”

Leo huffed under you. “She can’t swim, Dee.”

That brought the tallest brother up short. “What? You can’t swim?” At your nod, his lips pursed. “Well, that’s not good. Maybe some lessons?”

Before you could groan at the fact that they’d somehow worked training into what was suppose to be a day for relaxing, Leo was nodding, disappearing under the water to pull you off his shell.

“We’ll start with something easy. All you have to do is swim to Donnie.” He held you upright in the water, away from the heat of his body despite your insistence to cling to him.

“Orrrr- we could take the turtle taxi underwater?” You tried to dangle the notion in front of them like a treat, knowing they liked to show off for you, but they both shook their heads.

“This is important. What if you were alone for some reason and fell in?” Leo reasoned.

“Then it’s my time to go.” You deadpanned, knowing you’d never get out of it now but needing the stress relief of sassing back at them.

Leo snorted, the soft sound almost lost as you eyed the distance to Donnie. With an intake of breath, you kicked off his chest, arms coming up to sweep in an arc before you madly grabbed onto Donnie’s proffered arm.

“Well done!” He chirped at you, letting you cling to him for a moment.

“Don’t chirp at me, I’m mad at you both.” You sulked, but let him pull you further away, taking his offered hand. Your four fingers slotted in between his two, the stretch slightly awkward with how big his knuckles were.

“Hm, well, maybe we can focus on treading water for a moment?” His palm was cool on your other arm, supporting your elbow just under the surface of the water. “Kick your legs, like that.” He grinned at you again, following as you slowly turned them both in the water. “There you go, you’re a natural!”

It was hard to stay mad at him, as giddy as he became at your success. It became even harder when he lifted your clasped hands up high, twirling you in the water until you laughed, before facing towards Leo once more.

“Now, back to Leo.” His fingers slipped from your own, receding to mimic the other at your elbow as he waited for you to move.

You eyed the distance, noticing it had widened a little.

“C’mon,” Leo called, arms swept towards you, “I’m right here.”

You huffed, then took a reflexive gulp of air before arcing for him. You’d almost reached him, when without warning, he pulled back, movements easy as he swam a little further away.

“Wait! Come back!” You floundered at the end of your arc. “You ass!” You bobbed under in a moment of panic, swallowing a large gulp of water in the process, before slapping the water desperately as you followed after him. You felt more than heard his chuckle as you bodily hugged him, legs coming up to hook on the edges of his shell as he widened the distance.

“This time, when you get to the end of your arc, simply repeat the movement and kick your legs, like you did when you were treading the water! They’re way stronger than your arms, so use them!” Donnie called the instructions over to you.

“Your mom is stronger-” You muttered, low enough that only Leo heard, irritated at the both of them once more. You pushed off him again, childishly kicking water in his face as you arced for Donnie.

Upon reaching him, he offered you an arm, and you pressed it flat along your chest, hooking both arms over to bob next to him. He hummed, long and low, and you watched him phantom mime touching his glasses while giving you a look, taking in your expression.

He let you settle for a moment, before his hand grabbed onto your shirt, bunching up the material at your side. “Hold on.”

He swung you in an arc, pulling you through the water, creating a wave with your body and pulling out an elated yelp. You could just barely hear Leo laughing at the look on your face over the sound of the water. Donnie turned back, using the momentum to pull you through the water in the opposite direction in a wide arc.

Finally, when your cheeks started aching, he relented, pulling you closer and letting you hook your hands on the lip of his shell over his shoulders. “Ah, there we go. Much better.” When you raised your brows at him, be smiled softly. “Ready to go again?”

They switched from letting you cling to them, to staying just out of reach, forcing you to follow in their wake as they swam close enough to nudge you back up above the surface every time you dipped under.

You tired out quickly however, dipped more and more under the water, until something smooth touched your knee and you realized Raph was coming up next to you.

“Grab on, princess, let’s ditch school.” His low baritone was pitched to a rumble, clearly goading, and you wasted no time lunging for the top ridge of his shell. He sent a well aimed squirt of water directly towards Leo’s face before he dipped back below the surface, giving you time to take a deep breath before he whisked you away.

Raph swam between columns, surfacing in timely intervals so you could take a breath until you were both quite away from the others. Then, he switched to floating along the surface, masked head just above the water enough to hear you speak.

“How long can you stay under?” You asked, leaning your weight fully against him and letting your arms trail in the water.

“Longer than you, doll face.” You snorted at the non-answer, relaxing back against him.

“Hey guys! I’m gonna cycle the lights!” Donnie’s voice echoed through the cistern, seconds before the sound of a large switch being flipped, and half the lights went out.

“Stay up on my shell.” Raph warned. “I see pretty good in the dark, but no point in tempting fate with how tired you are.”

You gripped the edge of his shell again, pulling yourself further out of the water.

“Ok! Check this out!”

Another switch, and the lights slowly flickered back to life, much softer and in different colors. You chuckled as blue, red, orange and purple flashed in the water below, the lights along the ceiling dimming further.

“Nice!” You called out to Donnie, before leaning back down to lay against Raph, watching as the water changed the tone of your skin color as you trailed your arms through it again.

“Damn, Don, that’s pretty cool.” Raph sunk his head under for a minute, before he tapped your leg, prompting you to hold onto him once again and take a deep breath.

He pulled you deeper into the water this time, turning slightly so you could take in the way the lights played across the surface above you. Eventually though, you reached forward to tap his shoulder, and he quickly swam back up. You broke the surface with a loud gasp and a stream of mist as Raph cleared his nostrils.

The sight made you cackle before groaning in disgust as the mist swept back towards you. “Ewwwww!”

“You two ok over there?” Leo’s voice echoed in the gloom, and you stifled the amusement rising up your throat as Raph started swimming in the opposite direction.

“Fine, Fearless! Don’t mother hen us.”

“You’re like- like a giant-”

“You finish that sentence, sweetheart, and I’ll dump you back with Mr. schoolmarm over there.”

You hid your chuckle against the surface of his shell, almost jumping at the rumble he gave back. Peering over the edge, you watched the water ripple outwards, before the sound in Raph’s chest deepened and the water started hopping around you both, droplets seemingly suspended in mid air, growing taller the louder he got. The sound rattled your chest, your bones, your skin numbing where it was pressed against the slope of his shell.

“Raph,” you reached out, laid your palm flat against the water and let the vibrations tickle your skin. Your voice sounded as if you were talking into a fan. “What is this? How are you doing that?”

“Eh?” A dip in the sound, as he blinked up at you, and you got the distinct impression he was scrambling to answer. “Oh, don’t worry about that, sweetheart. It’s a turtle thing.”

“Hmmmm. Hey Donnie!” You cupped your hands, sitting up so the call would echo more.

“Shit.” Raph bolted, and you had to scramble for a hold, cackling madly as he took off in the water, determined to outrun his brothers long enough for you to forget asking his genius brother for an explanation.

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violettduchess · 6 months

Text

A/N: I am so happy to be able to share my gift for the lovely @ikeromantic 💜 A deep dive into your blog told me you love AUs as much as I do so I was so happy to create one for our favorite Lelouchian.

Thank you to @ikemenlibrary and @sunnyikemen for hosting and for being supportive, accommodating and all-around superstars. 💜

Clavis x Emma

Magic AU, Soulmates AU, First Kiss, Enemies to Lovers

WC: ~2k

The sun is glowing a bright lemon-yellow as Emma closes the wooden door to her shop. It’s a beautiful door, made of dark walnut and decorated with silvery moons and stars. Across the top, the words “Belle Magie” are etched into the hard wood. At night, the lettering glows a soft gold. Humming to herself, she wraps her free hand around the ornate brass doorknob and a subtle, warm orange glow emanates from her fingertips. The moons and stars flash once and she hears a satisfying, soft whoosh of magic. The door to her shop is now locked via enchantment and no one except Emma will be able to enter and poke around at all the treasures that line her shelves and counters.

Smoothing down her ochre and black robes, she carefully makes her way across the cobblestone street to the shop that is literally across from hers. Her nose wrinkles at the sign that hangs above the wooden door: “Lelouchian Enchantments” written in swirling, silver lettering that she would say is barely legible. His note, written in the same dizzying writing, is clutched tightly in her hand as she pushes open the lavender-colored door with a celestial design nearly identical to her own. But that is where the similarity ends.

Whereas Emma’s shop is neat, organized by ingredients, everything with its own place and labeled in her own very careful handwriting, his is a gigantic explosion of almost anything one can imagine. Bottles filled with liquids of all colors and bottles with questionable things floating in them, dried herbs and seeds in pots and packets, a whole section of plants that bite anyone who comes near them, not to mention odd gemstones, vibrant powders, paints and feathers. She ducks underneath the silver vines that have wrapped themselves around the wooden ceiling beams, ignoring the way they contract and rustle their leaves at her, and approaches the counter where she finds Clavis himself, carefully sorting what looks like glittery kidney beans.

“I got your missive. I believe it broke in through my window in order to deliver itself.”

At the sound of her voice, he turns, golden eyes gleaming like copper in sunlight. He wipes his hands on the folds of his pale lavender robes, grinning slowly. She is forced to admit to herself for the millionth time that Clavis is hardly unpleasant to look at, per say. But oh, how he irks her, with his smooth words, flamboyant personality and flashy enchantments.

“Oh dearie me, when I said it was urgent, I suppose that gave it permission to cause destruction. I apologize.”

She bats away several tiny golden motes that have taken an interest in her chestnut hair and Clavis lifts his hand, wiggling his fingers in invitation. The golden pinpricks of light float towards him, circling his wrist and then solidify into a gold bracelet.

Refusing to be distracted by his tricks, she unscrolls his letter and lays it on the counter.

“Well? Where is it?”

“So impatient,” he tuts as he kneels down, lifting an ornate silver box from under the counter. It’s about the size of his hand and she can’t help but watch the way he trails his fingertips over the decorative embellishments. He has such elegant hands.

One brow arches slowly as she crosses her arms, shoving that thought away and burying it in annoyance.. “Well…..are you going to open it….?”

He sighs theatrically. “Some people have no sense of showmanship.”

Her lips quirk into a small, involuntary grin. “I’m not one of the poor suckers who come in here for your tricks and potions, Lelouch. Now open the box.”

He tilts his head, clearly enjoying how much she is trying to hide her curiosity. His hand rests on the lid of the box but doesn’t move.

“Don’t you want to know the story of how I acquired such a treasure? Why, it’s a tale of mighty heroics the likes of-”

“No. No, I do not.”

He pretends to be offended but the light in his eyes gives away the truth.

“But it involves a goblin merchant from Benitoite and a heartsick wizard from the Jade Forest and-”

“And a dragon and a sea witch and a bloody one-eyed pegasus. Clavis, just open the box!”

He laughs and it is the needle deflating the balloon of irritation that had overtaken her. She’s never met anyone with a laugh quite like his. It’s almost musical, but in the way of the inviting, simple melody of a children’s song. Something that stays with her, imprinting itself on her mind.

“Such an impatient pumpkin.”

“Don’t call me pumpkin.” The response is automatic, a reflex built over the long while she has known him. The first time Clavis had seen her do magic and seen the yellow-orange glow her magic emanates, he had bestowed her with that aggravating nickname.

Nimble fingers curl over the lid of the box and then he lifts it, revealing a round, milky-white stone nestled into a bed of black velvet. It reminds her immediately of the moon against a starless night sky.

She tilts her head quizzically. “This is the all-power Amor Lapis?” She had imagined something called the “Love Stone” being far more ostentatious, something pink or red and wild with sparkles. Something that would take her breath away. This stone, while pretty in its own way, looks rather ordinary.

“Such a skeptic.” He lifts the stone from its box, holding it in the palm of his hand. “It will only glow when two soulmates have found each other.” He lifts his gaze to her, his smile playful. “Know any perfect couples?”

She rolls her eyes, reaching out to touch the stone. “There’s no such thing as a perfect-” Her fingers brush Clavis’s palm and suddenly, the middle of the white stone begins to brighten, a soft glow radiating out from the center.

She jerks her hand away even as he nearly drops it. Her heart roars to life, knocking wildly around inside her chest.

Neither of them move and then, at the same time they both do, Clavis uncharacteristically fumbling to put the stone back in its box and she taking several steps back, one hand curling into the velvet folds of her cloak.

“It’s broken! It’s clearly defective!” Why does her voice sound just a bit shrill to her ears?

He clears his throat. She’s rarely seen him so rattled.

“It….oh dear…..maybe it is.” He frowns, staring down at the stone, at the dull, cream color of it, no glow to be seen. Then he draws in a breath, one that even she can hear shaking and looks at her. There is something unfamiliar in the depths of his sunrise eyes.

“We should try that again.”

“Try what again, exactly?”

“Touching.”

She should be balking at the very suggestion.

She should already be halfway out of his crazy shop.

She shouldn’t be stepping closer again, her gaze jumping from the stone back to him and then back again.

And she really really should not be saying-

“Alright. To-to prove its deficiency.”

The smooth, dark counter is a barrier between them, one that feels like armor, something that will protect her although what she needs protecting from is uncertain, some nebulous thing forming on the edges of her consciousness, some unknown dream rising from the shadows of slumber.

Clavis then holds out his hand, palm up, his gaze meeting hers. Her heartbeat drums wildly through her veins, a rhythm she has never known before. Slowly she lifts her hand and places it in his. His skin is cool and smooth, soft in a way she would not have expected. Emma can feel his magic just here, flowing through him. It feels shockingly calm, not the wild chaos she thought it might be but soothing, like the scent of lavender, the soft pastels of the sky at sundown. She can feel her own magic responding, warming as it flows through her.

Beneath their joined hands, the Amor Lapis begins glowing again, a soft white light like a tiny flame igniting inside the stone. Her heartbeat roaring in her ears, she slowly withdraws her hand from his and watches as the glow dims and then, when they are no longer touching, winks off like a tiny candle snuffed out by a breeze. When Emma has gathered enough courage, she raises her gaze from the milky-colored stone to Clavis and her heart trips over its own beat. His eyes rival the glow of the stone, something new burning in their golden depths. The light of revelation. The light of truth. The light of desire.

When he finally speaks, his voice sounds soft, breathy in a way that causes Emma to bite the inside of her lip at the sound.

“Dearie me,” he murmurs, his gaze locked with hers, bright with an intensity that feels almost physical. “If that happens when we touch hands, imagine what might happen if we actually kiss.”

The word lingers between them, shimmering in the air like desert heat over sand dunes. Emma unconsciously licks her lips and Clavis’s gaze drops there, fast as quicksilver. His own lips part slightly as he stares at the full curve of her lower lip, the sweet bow of the top. His own voice, his own words, echo like thunder between them.

….if we actually…..

….kiss….

Emma hasn't moved, hasn’t said a word, her soft eyes wide as a deer’s startled by a sudden, unexpected sound. And then he realizes what he said, what he has actually suggested and shame floods him, a tsunami of embarrassment that washes away the glimmer of hope, the clouds of desire that had overtaken him.

What the hell was he thinking, talking like that? As if someone like her, someone so intelligent and kind and talented, someone beautiful inside and out, would ever be soulmates with someone like him. Forget soulmates, she doesn’t even like him.

He hangs in head, soft twilight locks falling across his forehead, his knuckles white as he grips the counter with trembling hands. Stupid. Idiot. Never good enough. Never smart enough. Never ever would he be enough for someone else.

“Nevermind, I lost myself for a moment.” The words are acrid on his tongue and he feels the hot wash of color staining his cheeks and neck. “Obviously, there’s no way–”

Her hands are suddenly gripping those warm cheeks, pulling him towards her, forcing him to lean over the counter, above the stone, where she presses her lips to his. The Amor Lapis explodes with radiance, a tiny supernova encased by smooth stone. Even with closed eyes, Emma notices the brightening of the light but right now, she does not care. Because right now, she is holding Clavis’s face in her hands, and she is falling falling falling into kissing him.

At first he freezes, shock turning his blood to ice water in his veins. But then he realizes her mouth is really there, pressed against his, and then the burst of light automatically closes his eyes and the shock begins to thaw.

Now all he feels is the warmth of her kiss, the tentative movement of her lips and he gasps, reaching across the counter to touch her. Cradling each other’s face, they kiss, at first slowly, drinking in the fragile newness of the sensation, the unveiling of the truth that has been growing in both their hearts, quietly. Steadily. And then novelty slowly turns to pleasure, to desire. He grows bolder, sliding a hand down to the nape of her neck, holding her there so he can part her lips and sink into the sweet taste of her. If this is a dream, may he never wake up.

Emma sighs against him, a sound that echoes the twinkling of diamond-bright stars in a black velvet sky. All this time….all this time she’s been falling in love and never even realized it.

Minutes pass. Or maybe hours. Neither of them can say when they finally pull away from one another. Breathless, light-headed, floating, they both glance down at the Amor Lapis. The stone is luminous, glowing like a tiny moon dropped from the heavens.

And it will continue to give off its beautiful light, for the rest of their days.

Tagging: @xbalayage @alexxavicry @queengiuliettafirstlady @rhodolitesrose @ikemen-writer @bellerose-arcana @thewitchofbooks @aria-chikage @redheadkittys @tele86 @dear-mrs-otome @firestar-otomeobsessed @curious-skybunny @rhodoliteschaos @kpop-and-otome @writingwhimsey @mxrmaid-poet @silver-dahlia @wendolrea @otomefoxystar @nightfoxqueen @myonlyjknight @portrait-ninja @ikesimpleton @mastering-procrastinating @namine-somebodies-nobody @queen-dahlia @scorchieart @nightghoul381 @bubblexly

#ikemen series #ikemen prince #ikepri #ikepri clavis #clavis lelouch #ikemen clavis #ikemen prince exchange #magic au #soulmates au #first kiss #enemies to lovers #ikemen fanfiction #ikemen fanfic #otome fanfic #violettwrites

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megamindsecretlair · 3 months

Note

I wish you would write a fic….

with a submissive Tyrone.

Like he’s hesitant at first, not really with it, but as it goes on he opens up a little bit more. I think he’s think he’s too tough to “wine” or “sound like a bitch”, but maybe reader convinced him somehow, and while he doesn’t eventually makes some sounds he begs more with his words, he gets all squirmy and he keeps chasing his hips you reader’s touch….. or something like that. 🫣

Ask and ye shall receive, sweet anon!

Pretty (Pretty) Boy

Pairing: Sub!Tyrone x Dom!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. FILTH. PWP, cursing, PIV, oral (male receiving), teasing, cum swallowing, dirty talk, praise kink, D/s lite, breeding kink if you squint, all consensual. Use of n-word. Referring to female anatomy as "she".

Summary: See ask. For Valentine's Day, you decide to shake things up. You ask to take control in the bedroom and it unleashes a side of you that you want to see more often.

Word Count: 4,946k

A/N: This ask been kicking my ass!!!!! It has been in my box for so long, I am SOOO sorry, anon! I definitely got in my head for too long and didn't think I could pull it off. Whew! I had a bad day and this absolutely cured me. I need to lay down!! Sorry about the wait, but I hope you enjoy! Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios! Or get blockt!

Taglist: @planetblaque @dayjlovesromance @sevikasblackgf @melaninpov @amyhennessyhouse @henneseyhoe @honeyoriginalz @justheretostan @black-fairy3 @superhoeva @jarfulloftears @hereformiles @montysstuffs @westside-rot @blackerthings @blowmymbackout @euphoric05 @miyuhpapayuh @nicolexnight @8ttached @judymfmoody @notapradagurl7 @wakandas-vibranium @soft-persephone @justabovewater20 @mcotton0928 @soapjay @heyauntieeee @theyscreamsannii @mybonafidefeelings @eggnox @honeytoffee @thadelightfulone @tranquilfandomer @kindofaintrovert @l-auteuse @browngirldominion @sunkissedebony97 @lovedlover @issahyland @nerdieforpedro @longpause-awkwardsmile @insburner @slippinninque @thecookiebratz @we-outsiiiide @bratzmaraj

“Can you at least try to enjoy it?” You pouted at Tyrone’s scrunched up face. You had tied him to the headboard because you knew your man. You knew that the things you had in mind were going to make him want to grab you and touch you.

And once he started touching you, he would get his way. He always got his way. Not that you were complaining. Tyrone was addicted to your body and couldn’t help but touch all your smooth curves. But you had been floating this idea in your mind for a few weeks and tonight was the perfect night to try it.

For Valentine’s Day, you asked Tyrone… if you could be the one in charge. Just thinking about having the entirety of this man at your mercy had you clenching your thighs beneath your robe.

He tested the restraints by tugging on them. “You tied these a little too good. You been takin’ notes,” he said. He gave you a smirk, licking his lips and tilting his head to try and get a peek beneath your robe.

You grabbed his chin and pushed his face to meet yours. You gave him a quick peck. “If you’re good, you’ll get rewarded,” you said, dropping your voice to a silky purr.

You saw your words sink into his eyes. They rounded for half a second before his eyes drooped. “Aight, aight, but I ain’t no bitch,” he said.

You gave him another peck. “Of course not,” you said. You gave him a wink and finished checking over the restraints and that he couldn’t secretly get out. You made sure the ties were well out of reach of his long fingers.

Those fingers were capable of bringing you intense pleasure and deftly worked over every inch of your skin. If he could get out of the ties, he absolutely would take over.

The sweet, subtle aroma of honeysuckle and orange flower blossoms filled the room from the candles you had lit. The lights were dimmed giving it a completely intimate feel despite it being a basic room you were overly familiar with.

You glanced at Tyrone as he watched you, a bit wary. You giggled. “I ain’t gon’ hurt you. Don’t you trust me?” You asked.

“I trust you. I just..Ion know about this one,” he said.

You leaned down once more and got close to his face. “Hey, we have a safe word. At any point you want me to stop, I will,” you said and pecked his nose, knowing he secretly loved that shit. He relaxed onto the bed, the rumpled sheets beneath him bunching up.

“Come on then, baby. Show me what ya got,” he said.

You grinned and stood up, surveying your work. He looked damn good, sitting up against the headboard like a concubine. He still wore black briefs fit snug over his lower half. So plump and thick in thighs and ass that you wanted to take a bite out of him.

You held yourself back and then told him you’d be right back. You went to your phone on the dresser and turned on your “Grown” playlist on Spotify. The deep croon of Ro James floated softly through the speakers and you left the room.

You went to the bathroom, nerves bubbling in your gut but you stamped it out. Tyrone was being brave and letting you play out a fantasy of yours so you had to be brave as well. You took a few deep breaths and let your other side come out. Let your inner freak rise to the surface and completely take over.

You looked good, he looked good, and you were getting everything you wanted and then some. So you threw your shoulders back and admired your sexy lingerie. You checked over the baroque garter belt with the straps pinching pleasurably into your thighs. The thigh high fishnet tights were flushed against your legs and your bra had your girls looking lovely.

You left the room and walked back to your room. When you opened the door, Tyrone’s eyes snapped to yours. Heat brushed all over your skin as you walked further in and he took in your outfit.

His briefs began to tent a little with evidence of his arousal standing at attention. You walked over to him, giving a dramatic swing of your hips. You trailed a finger from his legs to his thighs, to his stomach. His stomach contracted as you reached higher and he inhaled sharply as if you burned him.

“Got damn,” he said, licking his lips. He moved his hands forward but was held back by the ties. He looked up and cursed, a smirk on his lips. “Forgot already. I really can’t touch you?” He asked.

“Ion know, maybe if you ask nicely,” you said.

You bent down and grabbed the bottle of lotion there. It was unscented, but it would do the trick. He looked at you funny until you squirted some in your hand. He watched as your hands descended on his legs, rubbing the lotion into his skin.

“What you doin’?” He asked.

“You take care of me all the time. I want to take care of you. Now sit back and be quiet,” you said. You gave him a stern look and he smiled.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said.

You smiled, pleased that he was trying in his own way. You rubbed his legs and feet. He was jumpy by the time you got to that point, not used to anyone touching them. You kept it brief since you weren’t at the torturing stage yet.

Your eyes flicked to his as you worked on the other leg, an evil smirk on your face. He had no idea what he was in for. Was this how he usually felt? Drunk on power that he could do anything he wanted to your body and you would enjoy it? And you had no fuckin’ clue?

You advanced up to his thighs. A tiny sound escaped him, too low for you to hear what. He smiled at you to cover it up, biting his bottom lip and sitting back against the headboard. His eyes were lidded.

“Aren’t you being a good boy,” you said.

“I like to please,” he said.

“Mhm, you like to tease,” you said. You worked his massive thighs, spreading lotion all over. It was such a small thing, but you were mesmerized by the way the lotion sunk into his bronzed skin.

He had a smattering of hair on his thighs as you relished in the feel of him. The power in his thighs alone. He could crush watermelons and you thought about how you were going to ride him.

You had been debating how to do just that once he said yes to doing this. Your pussy clenched thinking of riding him reverse cowgirl. Bouncing on his dick while you fondled his balls. Or you could ride him cowgirl and dig your nails across his chest. You could watch his face while you selfishly took what you wanted.

The back of your neck tingled. You probably shouldn’t do this too often in the future if he was open to it. You were entirely too excited to use him like your own personal sex toy.

You bent low over him while you pretended to work a problem area. A part of your arm grazed his dick and he hissed, ending with a small sigh. You pressed kisses to his stomach, intentionally skipping his dick. But your mouth was close enough that a little dip to your chin would bring your lips to the base of him.

“You are the most amazing man ever. Do you have any idea how much I love you?” You asked. You peppered your praise in between kisses. “Do you have any idea how happy you make me?”

You looked up at him while he had a wide smile on his face. His toothy grin brightened his face, making him as open as you've ever seen him. He was usually scowling, so damn serious all the time. His mind stayed on his money and his lady. You smiled at the joy you saw there.

“Shit, got a nigga blushin’ over here,” he said. If you weren’t mistaken…his voice was a little thick with emotion.

You weren’t going to point it out so you kissed his dick through the fabric. “You’re doing so good for me, Ty. You comfortable?” You asked.

“You could loosen these ties,” he said.

“Nice try,” you said. You stood up and put more lotion into your palms. You worked your way over his chest, rubbing his solid stomach and studying his dips and grooves. You’d been together long enough that you knew every inch of him.

But it was rare when you got to explore his body. Take your time and see what you could do to him. Your hands crept up his sides and when you wiggled your fingers, he twisted away from you.

“Aye, aye! Don’t start that shit!” He yelled.

“Excuse me?” You asked.

“Don’t start that shit!” He said.

You slid your fingers upwards anyway and tickled him in earnest. He twisted and writhed beneath you, his legs flopping on the bed.

“Because I seem to remember begging for mercy and someone said no,” you said. You giggled as you watched his face in a mix of pain and happiness. He threw his head back trying to get away from you but he was powerless.

“You’re lucky I’m nicer,” you said. You stopped tickling him and moved your attention to his arms. You licked your lips as you ran your hands over his muscles. Back and forth, back and forth. His muscles contracted and you traced one long vein down his forearm.

His tattoos were an aphrodisiac all on its own. The lion was your favorite. He said it represented his dueling spirits, both lover and fighter. You worked the lotion into his wrists around the restraints. Too bad you couldn’t rub his hands. He had such big hands, big enough to grab your ass whenever he felt like. Which was all the time.

Tyrone loved you out loud and that was your favorite part about him. There wasn’t an inch of your soul that didn’t love and cherish this man. You didn’t have the words or the comprehension to let him see how much you loved him. How much you woke up everyday and had to wrap your fingers around your arms and squeeze them tight. To make sure that it was real and you had a man who adored you.

You just wanted to make him feel good. To make him feel a fraction of what he did for you on a regular basis. You cleaned your hands on a towel on the nightstand. “Feel good, baby?” You asked.

Tyrone groaned, his eyes drooping further as if he could go to sleep. He smiled, wide once more. Fuck, you would never get sick of seeing that look on his face. You would take a mental snapshot and lock it in your heart. You would pull it out a thousand times a day just to remember this over and over again.

“Yes, ma’am. I see why you always askin’ for one now,” he said with a chuckle. Hell yeah. When Tyrone rubbed your calves after a stressful day on your feet, you were jelly in his hands and would agree to absolutely everything he wanted. If he wanted to pour ice cream on your pussy and lick it off, you would not object.

But tonight was about making him feel good. You smiled as you went to the foot of the bed. You turned your palm until you were cupping his balls.

“Now, what do we have here,” you said. You increased the pressure a bit, squeezing his balls until he groaned a little louder.

You turned your fingers, massaging his balls in the way you knew made him glitch. He jerked and twisted beneath you, his breaths coming in choppy and weak. Your pussy throbbed, watching the mix of emotions play out over his face.

Oh, you could get used to this. Used to driving him wild first. “Okay, okay, okay,” he huffed. He drew his legs up to try and dislodge you. His arms wrestled with the ties as he tried to get free. When it felt too good, when his voice was low in the back of his throat, he would make you stop.

He assured you that he couldn’t cum this way, but you wanted to know what would happen if you kept going. If he didn’t stop you by pushing your hands away. You continued fondling him and he squirmed beneath you. His arms shook more violently as he tried in vain to stop you.

“You know what to say to get me to stop, baby. You gon’ say it?” You asked.

His eyes were closed tightly, head thrown back. You relished the look of strain on him. How he looked so…pretty.

He sounded so pretty too. His little staccato whimpers were turning you on in the worst way. You were dripping wet already and you hadn’t really done anything yet. You were going to burn up before you had a chance to let the night play out.

You were too excited, too turned on. Electricity danced in your veins. Your fingers tingled. Everything seemed amplified. His hair is just a touch more coarse. His voice throaty and guttural. The honeysuckle scent invaded your nostrils and now you would forever associate him with the scent.

“Hol’ on, hol’ on, damn,” he groaned.

“Ah, ah. You’re a big boy, use your words,” you cooed to him. You leaned forward, getting closer to him so that you didn’t miss a single thing.

The way sweat gathered on his brow and slid down his neck. The way his wide nose flared. The way his pink tongue darted out to lick his parched lips. Those sharp intakes of air. It was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen.

Your heart cracked in two as you finally got a sense of what he had been talking about. How him hovering over you, looking down at your face, made his entire world light up. You understood now. You felt that same light burst out of you. You were breathless with it.

“Babe, babe,” he said. His voice was so strained. You were so wet. An empty ache pulsed at the core of you. You needed this man inside of you. But you wanted to savor each moment too.

“Words, Tyrone, or I stop,” you said.

“No, no!” He shouted.

“Oh, so you can use your words,” you mocked.

“Yes,” he hissed.

“Well then, show me. Show me you can use your words like a good boy,” you said.

“Don’t stop,” he said.

“Do better. Beg me, Tyrone,” you commanded.

It was a desperate need to hear the words on his lips that crawled over your skin.

“Fuck,” Tyrone said. He licked his lips a few times. His breathing was choppy. The rapid rise and fall of his chest had you clenching and unclenching around anothing.

He was trying to hold onto that bit of control. That stubborn fight in him was costing him unnecessary torment. You moved closer so that you could peck him with kisses on his temple and cheek.

“Shh, shh. It’s okay. You can let go, baby,” you whispered in his ear.

You huffed and jerked as if he would cum but it didn’t seem like he was going to bust. You knew his face and that wasn’t it.

You moved your hands to the band of the briefs. He took in deep breaths as your fingers slipped below the band.

“You gotta tell me the magic words,” you said.

“Come on,” he groaned.

His hips moved side to side so subtly you almost missed it. Your fingers slid across his skin and you smiled. He was enjoying this. He really was lucky that you were so nice. You weren’t going to lord it over his head.

“You come on. You want that nut, don’t you, baby?” You asked. You lowered your voice so that it was a little softer. He loved the sound of your voice and when you talked like this, like an innocent little doll, he said it made him brick up instantly.

“Fuck,” he huffed out. “Please, babe. Touch me,” he said.

“Hm, that sounds like a command. Are you ordering me to do something, Ty?” You asked.

“No, ma’am,” he said. He shook his head back and forth.

“Come on, be good for me,” you said.

“Please, please, please touch me.” he said.

You kissed his cheek. “Thank you, pretty boy,” you said.

You began to stroke his long, thick dick. Your hands barely wrapped around him. You used both hands to stroke him slow and hard.

The song switched to Sevyn Streeter and you shivered. Her songs always made you feel so sexy and in your feminine power. Impatient, you moved his briefs down so that you could look at your handiwork.

You looked at your hands with your nails painted in your favorite color. Your hands sliding over his dick, getting all kinds of delicious sounds from him. How it seemed you were pumping the cum out of him.

He was still so pretty. Dicks were not supposed to be pretty. They were wrinkly and hairy. You’d seen one, you’d seen them all. Perhaps that was only for men you didn’t like. Because Tyrone’s was like no other. He wielded that thing like a deadly weapon.

It had been inside of you, handing out orgasms like it was sustenance. He kept himself well trimmed and groomed. Telling you that he needed to keep your plate clean. You watched your hands and suddenly grew jealous that they were having all the fun.

You got onto the bed and straddled him in a reverse cowgirl stance. You leaned across his thighs and stomach, scooting your ass back until it was tucked high in the air. Your face was level with his dick so you sucked him down.

“Oh, fuck,” he jerked off of the bed. You rode him, wiggling your ass for him. His breath fanned across your ass as he tried to lean forward. There wasn’t much slack on the ties so he only got so far.

“Umf, lemme taste you, please?” He asked.

He was a quick learner. You suckled the tip of his dick and the roar in his chest almost made you cum on the spot. You let him go with a wet pop, licking your lips to collect wayward precum.

“You know my pussy wet, Tyrone,” you sung. You wiggled your ass. You looked back at him. His eyes were transfixed to your jiggly ass, the globes shaking with its own gravity. He groaned. His hands flexed. Like if he could just grab hold all would be right in the world.

“You got me so fuckin’ horny, baby,” you moaned.

“Oh, I need to taste it, babe,” he said.

“You wanna taste me?” You asked.

Tyrone nodded, tearing his eyes away from your ass just long enough to give you a quick glance.

“You gotta earn that. Be a good boy for me and cum in my mouth,” you said.

You put your lips back on him and sucked on him just the way you wanted. You went at your own pace, bobbing your head up and down and trying to fit as much of him as you can. His hips bucked on the bed. The heels of his feet dug into the sheets as you gagged on him.

He lifted his hips and came with an aggressive growl. You sucked and moaned as his cum filled your mouth. You swallowed all of it. Usually you stopped and went to wipe your mouth of any more. But this time, you kept going.

These sounds were different. These were raw and primal. He muttered and sputtered through all kinds of excited sounds as you sucked the fucking soul out of him.

“Uh, u-” he moaned.

You gyrated on his chest. You felt that moan deep down inside. All the way down to your womb.

“Shit, I-!” He bucked his hips again and came one more time. His cum splashed the back of your throat and once more, you drank him down. You slowed your strokes, running your tongue lightly down his shaft. He made tortured moaning noises that had you seeing double.

You stopped with your lips around his tip and then finally let go. You moaned and looked back at him. He was definitely in pain now. That shouldn’t quite turn you on this much. But who were you trying to fool?

You loved this look of pain on his face. Where he gave way to his base instincts. To fuck and be fucked.

“You earned an award, baby, for being so good,” you said.

Your left hand descended down to your pussy where your fingers instantly slipped through your wet folds. You collected your essence and brought it to his lips. He panted before smelling your scent on your fingers.

His eyes were closed so he moved by the tilt of his wide nose towards your fingers. He opened his mouth and suckled them into his mouth. His tongue ran over your fingers, collecting every last drop.

“You so pretty, Ty,” you breathed.

“Timeout,” he panted.

You nodded and got up off of him. The song switched once more to Victoria Monet. It was a good song to relax to. You laid down next to him, wrapping your arm around his middle and staying there.

He groaned and shook beneath you. His eyes were so tightly closed you wondered if he was intentionally getting himself hurt.

“Are you okay, Tyrone?” You asked.

“Too much,” he whispered.

You nodded and focused on not setting his skin on fire. You gave him small, tolerable kisses while he calmed down. You checked on him periodically, making him talk it out like he did for you.

“Baby, please, I need to be inside you,” Tyrone finally whispered. You looked down the length of him. He was growing by the second. He swelled against your thigh, filling up just for you.

“You sure you want to keep going? We don’t have to. You’ve already given me so much,” you said.

“Please,” he said, his voice breaking on the word. “I’m going to die if I don’t get to feel you. I’ll get on my knees and beg right now, untie me,” he said.

You looked up and brought your hand up to cup his face. Stroke his beard. Your hands slid down to his arms, past the tattoos all over his arms. There were some on his chest as well. You wanted to lick every single one.

You straddled his hips and leaned up so you could look at his face. His eyes immediately went to your breast, concealed by your peek-a-boo bra. The sheer lace let him see your nipples. You played with your breasts as you began to tease him.

You slid your wet pussy across his chest and he licked his lips. His eyes dipped down to where you gyrated on him. His eyes. There was so much you could glean from his eyes alone. He wanted to devour you whole.

You didn’t give him what he wanted. This was still your fantasy. You turned around on him, getting into a sitting position. You moved your panties to the side and grabbed his dick. You guided him inside you. He was as hard as a brick and nearly as thick as one.

You groaned, sitting yourself down on that beefy dick. His head thumped on the headboard a few times as you seemed to continue sliding. Only Tyrone could get so deep that you felt him kissing your cervix. You clenched around him thinking of how he could fill you up directly. Shooting his load to the heart of you.

You weren’t sure when or how you became obsessed with being filled up by him but the image was provocative. Everytime he went inside you, your mind instantly flashed to how passionately he would grab your hips and slam you down on his dick.

You groaned and began to bounce, the bed creaking loudly over the music playing. It spurned you on more to hear it. You bounced faster, chasing your pleasure with reckless abandon.

“Fuck, use me,” Tyrone moaned. “Use me, baby.”

Your hands gripped his thighs and held on. You steadied yourself and bounced to your heart’s content. He moved seamlessly inside you, pulsing every now and then with his desire.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck,” you moaned. Your screeches were getting louder and louder.

“Let me feel it, baby, please,” he said, tacking on the please at the last second. Old habits die hard.

All the teasing you did to him only served to tease yourself. You were already close. Especially with how deep in your guts he was. At this rate, he could definitely rearrange some things in there. You bounced faster. You were so close. So close. So close.

You screamed as you came, howling into the night that you were in heaven. Soaring through the clouds with wind in your air and space beneath your feet. You paused, clutching his thighs as you shook on top of him.

You cried, your voice too warbly to be coherent. No help from him and you were still a mess on top of him. Flooding him with your arousal. You clenched and unclenched his dick, squeezing him tight enough to make him moan.

“Can I cum in that pussy?” Tyrone asked. He moved his hips, wiggling you on top of him. You moaned as he pulsed inside of you. You were still so sensitive from your powerful orgasm. A shiver worked its way down your spine and you arched into it.

“Since you asked so nicely, you can,” you said.

Tyrone moved his hips. He managed a few inches and your eyes crossed feeling him deep inside. You wanted him to stay there. You wanted to stay connected. If he wanted you to cockwarm him, you would. Just sit there with him lodged inside of you busting load after load into you.

“Ouue,” you moaned.

You helped bounce on him while he moved his hips up, bucking and fucking you. You tugged on your nipples, needing a little bite of pain to really drive your pleasure higher. You moved one hand down south, reaching under your panties and circling your clit.

“Sheeit,” you moaned and came. At the same time, Tyrone moaned loud and proud as he came, flooding your insides. You felt it fill you up to the fucking brim.

When you finished, Tyrone fell back to the bed, completely spent. Your legs were wobbly noodles. You didn’t think you could move. You took deep breaths, waiting for the ecstasy to dissipate.

But he always had the strength to make sure you were okay. You were going to do the same, because you loved him and wanted to make him comfortable. You got off of him slowly. He groaned as he slipped out. You got to your feet on the carpet.

You rubbed the sweat from his brow. “Talk to me, baby, are you okay?” You asked. You untied him and rubbed his wrists, rubbing the circulation back into it. You went around the bed and did the same thing to his other wrist.

“Hm, sleepy,” he said. He yawned to prove his point. You smiled at him.

“Not without me.”

You went to the bathroom and warmed up a washcloth. You cleaned him off, wiping your combined juices. He hissed a little as the cloth touched his dick, but he quickly settled into the bed.

You went to the bathroom and cleaned yourself up with a different cloth. You went back to the room to find Tyrone had slid down into the bed, resting his head against the pillow. Now the mu’fucka knew how you felt when you were overstimulated and speaking in tongues just to make the pleasure stop. It was almost like it was too much. But you couldn’t help but keep going, wanting more.

You blew out the candles and turned off the music. You turned off the overhead light and climbed into bed with Tyrone, pulling the covers up over your lower half. Your top half was too sensitive and overheated for anything more.

You kissed his arms and chest once you settled into his arms. He flipped over unconsciously, pulling your back into his chest. You snuggled down into his hot body. Your back turned feverish just from his body heat.

“Wait ‘till I recover,” he murmured into your ear. “I’ma get my payback.”

“See, that was all love. Why it gotta be payback?” You asked.

His hand flexed against your belly. He squeezed your flesh in his big hands and your pussy throbbed. You were already sore from earlier, you did not need another round.

“Just gotta,” he said.

“But why?”

“Thems the rules,” he said. His voice was hoarse and seemed louder in the quiet, dark room.

He fell silent and you thought he had drifted off to sleep. You were about to fall yourself when he hummed.

“Baby?” He asked.

“Yes?” You asked.

“Can you call me ‘pretty boy’ more often?” He whispered into the air.

“Of course. Anything for my pretty, pretty boy.”

Whew! If you need a cool down with another one, there's so much more! The Secret Tyrone Files

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miscellaneoussmp · 6 months

Text

The desert is cold. The river is freezing. Bad helps Max into the boat. "Thank you for everything, Bad." This is goodbye. Bad, despite centuries of practice, was never good at goodbyes. "I should be thanking you, really. Will you say hi to Dan and Trumpet for me?" Max nods, "Of course." With that, the boat begins to float down the river. Now, it's time for Bad to make the journey back.

The desert is cold. The desert is usually barren. Bad doesn't expect to run into anyone. The voices he hears belong to Mouse, Baghera, and Antoine. Mouse is holding out a lantern that flickers with blue flame. Baghera waves him over. Pol is with them. "What are you four doing?" Bad doesn't get the chance to ask questions like this, usually. "Oh! We're-" She points between her and Pol, "taking my shortcut home, then I'm giving them my lantern." Bad turns his sight to Antoine and Baghera. "We're going to look for Pomme." Antoine voice has a hopeful tilt to it. "Is that a good idea?" Bad is back to looking at Mouse. "It wasn't originally mine, so it should be fine." She just shrugs.

"Alright. Just don't get lost, okay?" Bad watches as the small group walks off with a few waves. "Same to you!" Baghera calls as they get further and further away.

The desert is cold. The pale sands shift. Bad notices a flame. Foolish is sitting by his fireplace. The flame is a perfect orange. He smiles. "You just missed them." Bad takes a moment to realize what Foolish means, but the echoing sound of Forever's voice makes it obvious. "I hope they don't get lost." Bad is still standing. "I gave them each a torch. They should be fine." Foolish grabs a stick from the edge of the fire. "You should take one, too." He offers the makeshift torch to Bad. "I'll be fine without one." The look on the other's face is unreadable.

There's a few moments of silence between the two. Bad is still standing. "I'm going to continue heading back. Do you want to come with?" Bad asks, but he knows the answer already. Foolish looks up from tending the fire. There is no heat to the flame. "I'm staying here just in case, but Bad, listen to me. Don't get lost." There's a seriousness to Foolish's voice that he rarely hears. Bad starts to walk away. "I won't. I won't..."

The desert is cold. The wind blows. Bad hears laughter. A welcome sound against the near silence typical of the desert. "Bad! Hey!" Tina's the one to call him over to the group. She's holding a lantern close in front of her chest. Her other hand is hovering just to the side of the lantern, attempting to protect it from the wind. The flame flickers from a blue to an orange. Tina isn't alone, far from it. Jaiden walks up to stand next to her. She has her hands folded behind her head. Bad can see Mariana holding a torch up. The flame flickers from an orange to a blue. His other hand is holding Charlie's. "Are you doing okay?" Jaiden asks. She isn't holding a flame, but Tina's is enough for both of them. "I'm fine, I'm good." Tina looks worried, as does Jaiden. He's fine. Bad can't think of any reason they'd be worried.

Missa soon joins them, along with Niki. He has a lantern chained around his waist. It flickers blue. It's enough for two, like Tina's own. Missa also seems worried. His eyes dart between Tina, Mariana, and Bad. "We're heading home if you want to join us?" 'Are you lost?' is the unsaid question. "I'm fine, I know the way. Mouse has a shortcut if you see her." That seems like important information to pass along. Mariana and Charlie seem to get further away. "Well then, we'll see you later?" Tina, ever the optimist. "You will, don't worry." Bad manages a smile. Tina waves goodbye, so she isn't left behind by her group. She catches up to Niki and Missa.

The desert is cold. The water is poisoned. He isn't lost. He doesn't need a flame. Bad is an amazing liar, as always.

—

(Part 1)(Part 2)

#qsmp #qsmp purgatory #qsmp drabble #qsmp badboyhalo #qsmp maximus #qsmp mouse #qsmp baghera #qsmp antoine #qsmp polispol #qsmp foolish #qsmp forever #qsmp tina #qsmp jaiden #qsmp el mariana #qsmp charlie slimecicle #qsmp missa #qsmp niki #(< sorry i tag everyone)#uploading all three parts in one day? it's the brainrot.

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loupy-mongoose · 6 months

Text

PREVIOUS NEXT

ARC START | CHRONO

(Banished to the long dimension lol)

~~~~~~

The two felines teleported into the mountains northeast of Lavender Town.

Akoya looked around for a moment, before pointing happily. Ah! There! Smiling, Lav followed her mother as she floated over to a crevasse in the cliff wall.

She was startled to find the entry blocked by a green bubble.

As soon as she noticed it, however, it burst.

Sisiiiiiii!!!!

Suddenly she was charged by a tiny, peach-colored pompom.

In her astonishment, Lav did a backwards flip in the air, propelled by the unexpected force. Hahaha ha ha ha ha! Momo! Hey, Lil Sis! She ruffled the little Mew's head, sending them both into a giggling fit.

Sisiii!

Lav looked toward to cave entrance to see Midas crouched there, staying away from the edge but watching her longingly. Persim hovered protectively close, watching his little nephew carefully. Akoya approached the two and scooped Midas up. Lav felt a pang as she realized how big he had gotten. It's a good thing Momo can fly now.

The small collection of Mews gathered into the cave, which was barely big enough to fit their biggest member comfortably.

Before he could say anything, Lav managed to snatch her uncle up in a hug.

Hhgh!?

Sorry, Uncle Perzi. I know you're not really into hugs. But I'm so happy to see you!

I-It's fine! Just this once, for you, Lavvy. His voice was strained as he fought the urge to teleport away.

Soon Lav released him, and noticed Midas looking up at her with big, pleading eyes.

Instead of hugging him, she crouched down and wrapped her tail and arms around him. Hi, Midas. It's good to see you, too!

The little Mew gave her a lick on the cheek, startling Lav and melting her heart. She pulled him into a gentle squeeze, being careful to not overwhelm him.

Beside her, little Rosemary poked her face out of her daddy's pelt. Mee?

Hello, Rosie~! Lav carefully held her finger toward her. The little red Mew dabbed it with her nose before disappearing back into her orange shelter.

Persim flicked his fluff-tipped tail, a concerned frown on his face. Where's Randy?

Akoya settled into a crouch, tucking her arms under he chest. He went for a walk with our unexpected host. Something came up, and he's... having a rough time right now.

Oh...

We thought we'd come check in while he's gone.

We're doing alright. Aren't we, Kiddos?

Momo and Midas stared blankly at him.

...Okay, so the kits have been a bit bored.

Akoya looked at her two Mew children. Midas was contently loafing beside Lav's face, while Momo was pawing a pebble around on the floor.

Her ear flicked thoughtfully. Hmmmm....

What's up, Mom?

Akoya turned to Lav. Maybe we could bring them to Fuji's place?

Persim tilted his head. Fuji? Is that that "host" you mentioned? Is... is it a human?

Lav sat up, earning a protesting Mah! from her brother.

Yes. She ignored Persim's horrified glare. He feels like a good man to me, and we already showed him that we're Mews. So that's one hurdle out of the way.

He takes care of hurt and mistreated Pokemon. So I'm sure he'd have the twins' best interests at heart. He'd love them!

Seeing Perzi's still uncertain face, Akoya went on. I'll talk to Randy about it first, of course. If he doesn't think that's what's best, I'll listen. But I think they'll be safer there than here.

You don't have to come with us, if we do. But I trust Mr. Fuji. I trust we'll all be safe there.

Persim still looked uncertain, but didn't argue. Well, you've met him, and both seem to agree. So who am I to say otherwise? Just... be careful.

We will.

The Mews settled around the cave, just chilling and chatting, or attempting to curb Momo's excitement.

As Lav waggled her finger for the little puffball to to follow and catch, Akoya turned to her.

Lav, has Nico mentioned Mo to you?

Lav thought for a moment, caught off guard by the question. She jolted when Momo bit into her finger. Ouch, gentle mouth, Momo.

Sowwy, Sisi.

Lav smiled and gave Momo an accepting head ruffle before turning to her mom. No, he hasn't. He didn't get to know Mo. He's told me that he remembers seeing his parent Mew float away, and that's all he knows.

Ah. Okay.

Lav didn't say the continuation of her thought; that Nico seemed to feel his parent--Mo-- abandoned him.

She drifted into her own thoughts as Akoya and Persim engaged in their own conversation. Thinking about how her dad was doing. Thinking about how she should go about approaching him.

Thinking about how she should approach Nico.

Lavender?

Lav hopped onto her hands and feet, her eyes wide and pelt standing on end. She scanned the cave wildly.

Lav? You okay, Hon?

The pale Mewtwo shook herself, attempting to flatten her telltale fur. I-I'm fine. Just one of those... falling asleep nightmares, y'know? She turned toward the cave entrance. I'm gonna go get some air.

Lav ignored the doubtful look on her mom's face as she walked out. Once certain that she wasn't followed, she sat down and took a few stabilizing breaths.

When she was calmed down, she carefully reached out, keeping out of her family's mindfields.

Nico?

His response was immediate. Lavender!

Lav smiled. Nico! Jeez, you scared me! It sounded like you were right next to me!

Sorry!

...

You made it to Kanto, didn't you?

Lav struggled to not react to the statement, afraid that one of the Mews would notice.

How did you know?

...

Our connection is stronger...

Lav felt a strange thrill rush through her body.

So you must be closer to me.

Y... You're in Kanto?

Yes...

Lavender took a moment to control her feelings, and the energy they might be giving out.

...We could meet...

We could actually meet. In person.

If...

If my family would be okay with it...

Are they with you?

Yeah... They caught up really quickly... Impressively so, really.

Good.

Lav flicked an ear in annoyance. "Good"?

I'm glad they followed you. I told you from the beginning that coming on your own was risky.

Lav sighed quietly. Yeah, you did. Despite her best efforts, her ears fell back in guilt. And it ended up being for nothing anyway.

What do you mean?

I came alone to keep my family from getting hurt, but my dad's still the one suffering from this...

She stopped to consider how much she should tell him.

I... I don't want to tell you too much right now, okay? I already feel like I betrayed my dad's trust, and I don't want to do it any more. I want to talk some stuff out with him first.

I understand.

You're a sweet girl, Lav. Considering your family's needs.

Be patient, okay? I'm sure we'll meet someday, but I would rather have it be on good terms. With everyone involved.

Lavender smiled. ...Yeah... I agree...

We'll talk later, Nico. I hope we can meet soon...

I hope so too, Lav. Talk to you later.

Akoya floated over to her Mewtwo daughter in the cave entrance. She purred to make herself known, causing Lav to turn her way.

She nuzzled Lav's face before speaking quietly. You were talking to Nico, weren't you?

The 'two's tail flicked. H-How'd you know?

Akoya ignored the words of the question, and decided to focus on the feelings behind them.

You don't need to be shy about connecting with him, Hon. So far we really don't have any reason to say you shouldn't... She thought for a moment. Well, aside from you thinking what you know about him would make your dad more afraid than he already is.

Lavender's ears fell back as the words from her note were spoken to her.

Akoya's face grew serious. ...Lav, tell me the truth. Is there anything your dad and I should be afraid of about Nico?

Lav took a second to form the words. Once she was ready, she looked steadily into her mom's eyes.

As he is now, no. I don't think so.

But as he was...

Akoya raised an eyebrow at the hesitation, urging her to go on.

He was made to be a weapon... and... for a while, he lived it... He killed Pokemon and people...

But he changed. He's not like that anymore. Fuji helped him learn what kindness was, and Jovie helped him practice it.

He regrets what he did in the past.

The blue Mew kept her face even as Lavender spoke to her. Her thoughts tumbled in her mind as the little Mewtwo watched her expectantly.

After a while, Akoya sighed and shook her head lightly. I don't think your dad or I will ever have a clear picture of him until we talk to him ourselves.

All I can do for now is take your word for it, Lav. But if you start keeping vital information from us... We may have to put a stop to you connecting with him.

Lavender gave a solemn nod. I understand, Mom. I promise, I'll bring everything to you guys as soon as I can from now on. And I won't tell Nico anything until I get the okay!

Akoya smiled lightly, though her eyes were still thoughtful. She hovered over and gave Lav a kiss on the forehead.

We don't want to control you, though... We know you're your own person, and can make your own decisions... We just want to make sure you know how to make them safely...

I know, Mom. She gently butted her head against Akoya's with a warm smile of her own. I love you.

I love you too, Lav.

The blue Mew floated back from Lav a little bit.

I'm going to check on your dad. I'll be back soon~

Mom, wait.

She stopped and glanced back.

There's one more thing about Nico, that I just learned...

He's in Kanto.

~~~~~~

PREVIOUS NEXT

ARC START | CHRONO

I never had them talk about it on screen, but Lav did tell Nico that she was planning on coming by herself.

#Linden Roots #writing #BLH #By Lavender's Hand #babbies #mite

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upsidedownwithsteve · 2 years

Text

Steve Harrington x fem!reader [1.3k] prompt: "I'm just getting comfy." Cute boyfriend Steve, fall in Hawkins, horror movies and cuddles. Pure fluff. “You promised you’d watch this with me,” your boyfriend grumbled, voice trying to sound huffy but you could hear the affection there, warm underneath.

“I am!” You lied, wiggling further underneath the comforter that smelled like Steve, all mint and cedar, leftover aftershave and boy. “I’m so invested.”

Steve snorted, looking down at you from where he was propped against his headboard, remote in one hand, his other arm wrapped around your side and pulling you into him.

“Liar.”

It was already turning dark outside despite it only being six o’clock, fall settling over Hawkins quicker than summer had left, leaves turning the streets into an orange and brown walk way, the skies gloomier, the rain more frequent. Storefronts held pumpkins and the bakery on Main had the permanent smell of cinnamon, hot chocolate and spice floating from its doors.

But god, it was cold.

Everything had turned into woollen jumpers, knitted hats, too long scarves and more than one pair of socks underneath your boots. You accepted more lifts from Steve, happier in the front seat of the BMW than you were walking through puddles to get to and from town and you pressed yourself into the warmth your boyfriend provided and any given opportunity.

The kids said it was gross, Robin rolled her eyes but Steve adored the way you sought him out amongst the crowd of your friends, face pushed into the crook of his neck as you snuck your hands up the front of his sweater, cold fingertips pressing into the warm skin.

Work had dragged by, the bookstore quiet for the majority of your shift because no one wanted to go out into the rain. The skies had been heavy all day, a dark navy that looked ready to burst, and just after lunch, the heavens opened. It made the store seem smaller, the lights flickering from the wild wind outside and you sought comfort and warmth in the smell of old books and the countless cups of tea you made yourself.

Steve had picked you up at five, watching you through the car window as you wrestled with the key in the door, desperate to clamber into the BMW and warm yourself with a kiss. He gave you one eagerly, lips pushed to yours, parting with a sigh, barely wincing at the press of your cold nose on his cheek.

He’d patted the bag at your feet, stocked full of sweets and chips, the newly released video of The Return of the Living Dead, glaring from your from its case.

“We finally got it in,” he’d told you happily, “ready for a movie night, babe?”

You’d agreed readily, smile on your lips and your head tilted and pushed into the seat of the car, happy to finally be with Steve after what seemed like such a long day. You’d had this night planned for a week or two, Steve giddy with the news that some new horrors were coming into store in time for Halloween and he’d bought all your favourite treats.

You’d waited all day for one of his sweaters, gummy bears and kisses that tasted like sour patch kids and red vines.

You just didn’t expect to be so tired.

The day turned to evening and Steve’s bed was so warm, sleep was pulling you further into his pillows, the movie the only thing lighting the room. There was a soft buzz of static from the screen and Steve was a solid comfort pressed beside you.

You’d shared a pizza before you slipped up to Steve’s room, murmuring a goodnight to his parents who were home for once, watching their own movie in the living room. Steve had kissed away your quiet giggles as helped you out of your jeans, your shirt replaced for one of his own, too big and hanging over your bare thighs.

So you really couldn’t help it when you slid further down the mattress, head turning from the TV, body lazy as you curled into your boyfriend instead.

“You can’t watch it if you’ve got your face smooshed into me,” Steve commented mildly. “You alright down there?”

You hummed a response, content to push your face into Steve’s side, your arm thrown over his lap, your head resting almost on his lap now. His hand found your hair, pushing the stray locks away from your forehead and you groaned at the feel of it, body turning to mush and your lips pressing a grateful kiss to the middle of his palm as it ghosted over your cheekbone.

“M’jus’ gettin’ comfy,” you told him, and Steve grinned ‘cause he could tell by your voice you were getting more tired, your tone a little lower than normal, words slurring together.

“Is that so?” The boy's eyes were still on the screen, entranced by the bodies that were starting to come back to life, gruesome noises filling the room. “You sleepy, babe?”

You nodded, eyes closed and hand pushing up Steve’s shirt, fingers sliding over the muscles that created bumps and dips over his stomach. They tensed at your touch and you smiled, more happy noises slipping from your lips.

“You’re cute,” he murmured, the hand that was carding through your hair slipping to graze over the side of your face, thumb tracing over the highs of your cheekbone before skating across your lip.

Another kiss, pressed to the pad of it, another smile, another happy hum.

You tangled your legs with Steve’s as the zombie attacked on screen, the horror scenes making his walls glow red and it wasn’t long until Steve shuffled even closer, fingers trailing across the sensitive skin at the nape of your neck.

“You sure you’re comfy like that sweetheart?” Steve asked softly, cause your cheek was squished into his ribs, head not even on a pillow anymore.

You wiggled and lifted yourself, bones feeling heavy with sleep and you barely opened your eyes as you clambered to your hands and knees. You were clumsy as you moved, bare legs dragging over Steve’s until you were between his, warmth encasing you.

You sighed happily as you lay back down, head resting on his abdomen, stretched out on your tummy and your arms wrapped around his waist. You felt his stomach move underneath your cheek as he laughed quietly, his hand coming back up to smooth over your hair.

“Better?” He asked and even though you weren’t looking, eyes still closed and lashes fluttering against his shirt, you could hear the smile there, voice fond.

“Mhmm,” was all you could manage, and when Steve pulled the duvet up over your shoulders, you let the sound of rain against the window lull you to sleep.

You weren’t awake when the movie ended, the room fading into black as the credits rolled and the colours seeped away. You didn’t hear the click of the remote, the zap of the screen switching off, the crackle of static it left behind.

You didn’t hear the rain that still hit the window, a tap, tap, tap that went throughout the night. You barely shifted when Steve moved, touch gentle on you as he manoeuvred himself out from under you, hands grabbing his shirt to pull it over his head. You didn’t move when he curled back down beside you, his own eyes pulling heavy and his arms encasing you.

Your head found its way back into his chest, nose pushed into his sternum like it belonged there, lips parted with soft breathing and your hand pushed itself into his hair, making it wilder than it needed to be.

Steve was sure you were still asleep when he pushed a kiss to your cheek, when he murmured a soft “love you,” into the top of your head before his own hit the pillow, but he grinned when he heard you say it back, voice thick with sleep and unbearably cute.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington fluff #stranger things #stranger things fic #steve harrington blurb

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peachenle · 1 year

Text

down the hatch

pairing: park sunghoon x fem!reader

genre: college!au | fratboy!au | fluff, established relationship | some suggestive content at the end

word count: 5k

warnings: lots of drinking, profanity, sexual themes, fake frats, more semi-unhumorous banter, sunghoon biceps

༄࿔˚✧ synopsis: “a collection of moments with sunghoon, shared over meals, snacks, and drinks. a riff off of timestamps. not in chronological order. a continuation/epilogue of captain’s log.”

tagging: @dearhee @ozymandia-s @judeduartewannabe @pokemonpartyworld @thejjrl @end-hyphen

jungle juice

There wasn’t a lot you could do when it came to football game weekends. You knew the drill. Your roommate Yunjin would be pestering you to “Can you please show at least a little school pride?” as she posed you for pictures, dressed in your university’s sanctioned colors. Sunghoon would be off doing god knows what to prepare for the HYB tailgate. However, today’s game was much later in the day, and you were saved from the tragedy of drinking at 8am like last time.

Sunghoon had warned you that he’d be busy that morning, buying groceries for the pre-game, the tailgates, and the afterparty. You decided you’d return to the library, cramming a couple assignments (like usual) before the chaos of the upcoming afternoon.

Not even an hour into your studies, and uncharacteristically, Sunghoon began sending you a string of messages.

sunghoon: is this a good juice brand *photo attached*

you: its orange juice i dont think you can go wrong but yes

sunghoon: is 1kg of strawberries enough

you: why did they let you buy groceries by yourself this time

sunghoon: *photo attached* I’m with riki

you: …

you: remind me to not consume whatever you guys are trying to make

*Sunghoon disliked a message you sent.*

The festivities of the day included a pregame at the HYB house, carpools to the main stadium parking lot for the tailgate, and cheering alongside everyone else at the actual game. Naturally, the night would end at HYB.

You were still shy about letting yourself inside the house, even though you knew they never locked the doors on days like this. Sunghoon once insisted on giving you a key, to make it easier for you when you came over. And though the other guys that lived at the house gave him permission to do so, you - maturely - explained that you had to respect their spaces as a guest. Sunghoon met you with a pout and a reluctant nod of understanding.

I’m outside, you texted your boyfriend, stepping up the stairs to the front doors. You heard yelling and music, and you were surprised the fun had already begun.

You stepped back as the door swung open, meeting your boyfriend’s sheepish smile and Jay’s bright one. Sunghoon grabbed your hand, brushing a quick kiss on your forehead.

“Alright, Y/N, so we fucked up the jungle juice,” Jay stared at you expectantly, his face fully flushed already.

You made a face, “How is that possible?”

Sunghoon laughed, “Just wait.”

Next to the two large tubs of their creation, the kitchen’s island was littered with empty juice cartons and several empty liquor bottles.. and many beer bottles?

One of the other HYB brothers followed your gaze, “We put beer in it to make it bubbly.”

Sunghoon passed you a cup. You stared at the little strawberry floating within an unnervingly bubbling red-orange concoction. Safe to say the beer was not a good choice, the ratio was definitely off - how can something so fruity taste so bitter? “Yeah, it does taste like shit.”

“Okay, but who drinks jungle juice for enjoyment?,” Riki suggested, shuffling through the songs playing from his phone to the speakers.

Jay, sarcastic, stated. “Jungle juice should be treated as a delicacy.”

Sunghoon, amused, replied, “Then why did you defile it by adding cheap beer?”

“I saw it on TikTok, leave me alone.”

Some other guys arrived later and called for help to set up, so you and Sunghoon were left to figure out what to do with the drinks.

Your guys’ solution was to just add more orange juice, which didn’t exactly mask the beer taste, but it made it more tolerable.

The pregame wasn’t eventful, mostly HYB guys and their significant others taking shots before packing everything (and everyone) into a few cars to take to the university stadium.

The parking lot was crowded, different Greek groups mingling with each other. You and Sunghoon sat in the back bed of a friend’s pickup truck, next to the tubs of jungle juice, watching the chaos unfold.

People were grilling meat, passing lettuce wrapped morsels amongst each other. Everyone was decked out in school colors, some holding signs cursing out the other team.

Sunghoon laid a drunken head on your shoulder, taking a hand into his. You felt him shake with laughter as some of the boys wrestled over a football. Other guys were funneling shots and you thought of your boyfriend, certainly the least chaotic (in terms of drinking) out of all of them.

“Hoon, I wish you’d just own up to your true frat potential.”

“The way you tease my friends for being alcoholic fuckboys really holds me back from that.”

You paused, “You’re the exception to the rule. It’s not anyone’s fault Jay has a new flame each week - he’s just embracing who he is - a HYB brother.”

"I think it's time I hang up the frat paddle and just be a wholesome student."

“Dude, you just picked up a Little, what are you talking about?" Riki interjected (the Little in question).

Sunghoon sighed dramatically, “And I regret it everyday.”

Your school’s team won, and everyone traveled back to celebrate appropriately at the HYB house. The daytime festivities (and drinks) left you tired, and you pulled Sunghoon away from the action to selfishly have him help you to sleep.

It was only 9 pm and you knew there were still drinks to be drunk, but it was getting difficult for you to keep your eyes open.

Sunghoon led you to his bed, climbing in shortly after. You two were silent as he took you into his arms, the warmth of his chest lulling you into darkness.

You woke, the wisps of your hair clinging to your forehead with sweat. You were surprised to find Sunghoon’s limbs still intertwined with yours, considering the bass of the party’s music downstairs still vibrated his bed frame. He definitely did not mean to fall asleep. You brushed the loose hairs out of your face, staring at your boyfriend’s features in the glow of his LED lights.

Sunghoon’s sleeping face was so peaceful, and you often took pictures to relish at the image if you missed him. You were so content. You burrowed your face back into the heat of his neck, not minding how his proximity literally made you sweat. Just being able to be with him… you couldn’t care less.

tiramisu

Your third real date - you could not consider invites to his parties actual dates - Sunghoon wanted to take you to his favorite dessert cafe downtown. The last time he took you out, he offered to drive, picking you up right on time, and with a single tulip sitting on the passenger’s seat.

This time, however, he asked if it was okay if you two could just walk and ride the bus together. Sunghoon had his moments of pure charisma, teasing you smoothly, and finding a way to break out a smile from you. There were other times where you were absolutely astonished at his clumsiness. While Sunghoon was in the final stages of crossing over into HYB, some of the things you had to witness him go through… thank god he was handsome.

The midday sun was beaming brightly, a gentle wind passing through your thin layers - not offering you much comfort to soothe the beads of sweat on your forehead. Sunghoon was dressed casually, a short sleeved button down - revealing just enough of his toned chest, and some loose trousers.

“You know, I asked to walk with you today so that I could have more time with you, but I’m kinda regretting it,” he said pointedly, gesturing at the hot spring rays of the sun.

“Wow, are you saying time with me isn’t worth a couple minutes of sweat?” you said, with a blank face.

Sunghoon’s face contorted to one of apology, his lips opening to ramble a sorry, but then stopped and broke into a smile. “Yeah, you’re less cute when you’re sweaty.”

You scoffed as you pushed his shoulder, discreetly swiping a hand across your forehead.

The bus was packed, and you two were left with the option of standing body to body with other passengers. Sunghoon grabbed a hanging handrail for support before the bus took off, but the others in your section were occupied. The bus jolted forward and you stumbled into Sunghoon’s torso, his free hand catching your shoulder.

Your cheeks burned with embarrassment, and you peeked up to see him bite back a smile. After stabilizing your stance, Sunghoon’s free hand traced down your bare arm. He gently grasped your hand and directed it to his bent arm, offering you his bicep to hold for support.

“You’re sly, Park Sunghoon,” you whispered. His arm was toned, and it felt firm under your grasp.

“Hey, I hit a PR at the gym yesterday, this is a reward for both of us. You should thank me really.”

After making it out of the bus, you didn’t bother to let go of his arm. He coolly slipped his hands in his pockets as he led you to the cafe - you stared at his red ears and knew the impact you had on him.

You picked a table in the back corner, the cafe was decorated brightly and had walls lined with bookshelves. You let Sunghoon order for you. He returned with a bright smile, setting the order pager on the table.

“This place has the best cakes,” Sunghoon was beaming with excitement. You laughed, his giddy expression was so endearing it was hard not to reciprocate.

Sunghoon stood to pick up the order when it was ready, and passed you your pink smoothie. He set a green tea cake and slice of tiramisu in the middle, taking a sip of his Americano.

“So they make tiramisu the authentic way.” Sunghoon began to explain how tiramisu is supposed to be made (who knew he was such a fanatic?), and you spared him of the knowledge that you too knew how it was actually made. “The owner says they get imported coffee beans especially for their espresso, so the flavor is super strong!” He used his spoon to point out the different creamy layers.

The cake did look delicious, but the sight of Sunghoon’s eyes glowing staring at his favorite dessert was more satiating. You sipped your smoothie as he finished his ramble.

Sunghoon slowly carved into the cake with his spoon, and held it out to you.

“Are you really feeding me right now?”

He smiled, “I know you want it.” He was right. You did.

The cake was creamy and soft, just as it looked, but you scowled at the clashing taste.

“I don’t think fruit smoothies with tiramisu is a good pairing…” you smiled sheepishly.

He passed you the cup of his Americano to wash the flavor away before scooping another bite for you. Sunghoon smiled as he noted your expression of approval. The taste of the espresso was bitter, but the cream and cocoa melted to coat your tongue with sweetness.

Sunghoon didn’t mind that he traded his Americano with your smoothie. He didn’t mind that the tartness of the fruit totally ruined his favorite dessert. Your happy expression was enough for him.

somaek

Being in a relationship with someone so popular, and so involved with his social circles, unknowingly pulled you into many social events and gatherings. You were intertwined with his organization, and joining some of their philanthropy events led you to become a desired member in some sororities.

You simply explained you didn’t have the time to commit to anything. You had your own orgs, your own part-time job, and your own studies.

Probably the first problem that you two faced early in your relationship had to do with just that - balancing each of your respective responsibilities. Being in Greek obligated him to attend many events, and him living in a frat house didn’t make things easier when it came to alone time.

You loved his friends, and truly saw some of them as your own now, but spending time with your boyfriend in a room right between Jake and Jay drove you mad sometimes.

There was knocking at Sunghoon’s door. You two were sitting on the floor, your laptop propped up, educating your boyfriend with iconic Vine compilations. “It’s Jake!”

Sunghoon stood to open the door and see what his friend wanted. Naturally, Jake pushed inside disregarding Sunghoon.

“Dude, I’m right here?”

“Hey, Y/N, can you explain the post-lab that’s due tomorrow? The summary part seems so redundant… I don’t get how it’s different from the analysis.”

You blinked at him, half-eyeing the soju and beer bottles you and Sunghoon were peacefully sharing just a minute before. Sunghoon sighed and you snorted.

“Jake, can I please just have a night with my girl? You see her like four days a week in class, and could’ve gotten help then.”

Jake made an O with his lips, realizing his brashness and laughed. “My bad! And I’ve actually seen her everyday this week because of supplementary labs!”

Sunghoon basically dragged his friend out, locking the door behind him.

“Sorry about him.” You shook your head, amused, pretty much accustomed to this behavior already.

You refilled Sunghoon’s beer glass, and poured in a shot of soju right after. “If it makes you feel any better, that post-lab was actually due today.”

Sunghoon downed the drink in one shot, his cheeks cherried from the alcohol. “This is why I love you.”

He paused. That was the first time he said I love you to you. You snickered, “That still counts even if you’re drunk.”

He pouted his lips, then smiled, “Honestly, I consider that a win.” He stuck his tongue out at you. “Ha! I said it first.”

suggestive content in the end of this last section - feel free to skip!

peppermint hot cocoa

Sunghoon was always patient with you, pausing to make sure you were enjoying yourself, never hesitating to ask if you were alright. He was gentle and caring, and never rushed.

However, your first time with Sunghoon consisted of a lot of moving parts. Clashing limbs and rushed whispers, you were out of breath before even really starting.

You’d had your share of one night stands, purely lust filled nights: chaptered with drunken exchanges, entangled bodies, and the dreaded walk of shame the morning after. Only rarely were you lucky enough to have snuck out before the rise of the sun.

Since you two started talking, you had access to HYB and hockey club parties, which were at least every other week. It was still fun to party with your girlfriends, before sneaking away with Sunghoon to play pool or some drinking games.

Each night was riddled with ST and for better or for worse, he never advanced anything further than a couple sessions of making out.

Hell, there was one night where you made out for what felt like two hours straight. One of his hands was finally on the inside of your panties, rubbing you expertly, but as soon as you reached for the front of his jeans, Sunghoon stood up. You two were drunk, but even then you could tell that his “phone call from Heeseung-hyung” was nothing more than him pulling up the calculator app and putting it to his ear.

“I just don’t know why he doesn’t want to sleep with me?” You brought up to Yunjin the next day. “He had a girl in his bed and he pretended to call Heeseung.”

Yunjin bit her lip, and looked at you with the most serious expression. “Y/N, that’s so fucking tragic. Me, personally, I’d stop talking to him.”

“It’s not that I want to just have sex with him!” You whined. “I like him. But you know, we just keep stopping right before.”

She continued, “Imagine getting hot and bothered with a girl on top of you and the thing he thinks of to get out of it is Heeseung. Your tongue was down his throat and his best out was Heeseung.”

“Okay, now this just feels like a jab at Heeseung.”

“He ghosted me, Y/N! I was supposed to do that.”

You rolled your eyes at your best friend. “What do I do?”

“You said the only times you’ve gotten close were when you two were drunk right? Maybe he gets whiskey dick.” She grins.

You pause to think about the things you’ve felt, the times where you’ve run a palm down the front of his pants, just to hear a pretty gasp from him. Or the times where you straddled him, and he grabbed your hips to push you further onto him.

“Yeah… I don’t think so.”

“Honestly, he’s probably just nervous. Anyone can tell just how headass you two are for each other. Or maybe he doesn’t want to do it drunk.”

Yunjin then muttered, “Couldn’t be me. Drunk sex is…”

During a lecture - as you and Jake were hunched over his laptop, going over the practice case scenarios together - you saw a text message pop up on Jake’s screen.

hoonhoon bro: should i just ask her out again

Jake cleared his throat and slowly turned his screen towards only him, “Lemme check something real quick.”

You snickered, “Very subtle, Jake.”

He gave you a look, “I could just lie and say you told me you aren’t into him anymore.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

Jake smiled brightly, “Yeah you’re right, I like you guys too much.”

You then received a text message.

park sunghoon: Are you busy tonight?

you: yes i’m going on a date

park sunghoon: what

Jake looked up from typing on his laptop. In a hushed whisper, “You’re seeing other guys!?”

You kept your eyes on your phone and continued.

you: yeah i started talking to him from a hockey club party

Jake poked your arm angrily, and turned his screen to show you the texts between himself and Sunghoon.

hoonhoon bro: SHES SEEING SOMEONE ELSE WHAT THE FUCK

me: WTF DUDE LET ME ASK HER

hoonhoon bro: wait dont

hoonhoon bro: THEY MET AT A HOCKEY CLUB PARTY?? IVE LITERALLY KEPT MY EYES ON HER AT EACH PARTY I never saw her speak to any other new guys

You covered your mouth to silence your laugh. Jake was seething, waiting for your explanation but you still typed on your phone.

you: yeah his name is sunghoon

park sunghoon: ???

park sunghoon: oh

park sunghoon: We’re going on a date tonight?

you: aren’t we? you asked if i was free lol

park sunghoon: I’ll pick you up at 6

You heard Jake sigh in relief, “I seriously went through all the stages of grief just now.”

When the lecture finished, Jake turned to you one more time. “If things ever go south… Just let him down easy? I like you, dude, but I can’t guarantee your safety from Jay if Sunghoon comes home crying one day.”

All you could do was gently smile and nod.

That evening, fresh from the shower and loaded with the jitters of the impending date in about an hour, you received a text.

park sunghoon: Are you craving anything

you: you

park sunghoon: huh

you: can surprise me

You laughed out loud at yourself. You saw your roommate stare from the corner of your eye. “Embarassing,” she teased.

When Sunghoon notified you of his arrival, you took a deep breath before exiting the dorm building. This was only the second date - sure you’ve had many hours of drunkenness with him at parties - but it didn’t settle the nerves of a date any less.

He smiled at you when you opened the passenger door, a single pink tulip waiting for you on your seat.

Sunghoon’s car always smelled deeply of him, so clean and fresh. He smelled of soap, or crisp linen, and sometimes, like today, you noticed hints of coffee.

“So, I was thinking, does sushi sound good?”

“It’s not really a surprise if you tell me before we go,” you quipped. “But yes, of course.”

He poked your cheek. Sunghoon shared details about his day, discussing a couple of hours at the rink before class.

He snorted, “It’s always awkward giving lessons to kids who have tiger parents. This little boy today ate shit on the ice practicing his loop and his mom yelled at him from the stands.”

Sunghoon grimaced, “Then she yelled at me…”

Your conversation flowed throughout the drive into downtown. He asked you about your day, and you left out the flurry of texts you read about yourself, courtesy of Jake.

“Another girl dm’ed me asking if I wanted to rush next semester. And then she explained she could guarantee me a bid.”

“They must be desperate if they’re asking you.”

“Yeah, like I don’t know if I’d want to ru- wait. What are you trying to say?” You punched his shoulder as he cackled.

“Don’t hit the driver! Very dangerous.”

The restaurant was packed, but since Sunghoon had called ahead of time, you were seated very quickly.

“What would you have done if I didn’t agree to sushi?”

“I would’ve brought you here anyway. Surprise!”

The sashimi was delicious; and you and Sunghoon, shamelessly, audibly groaned at the taste. You two argued over which fish was best, obviously the salmon, and though he disagreed, he happily scarfed down the last piece of salmon when you offered it.

You let Sunghoon guide you through the streets of downtown for a couple blocks, thinking you were just aimlessly walking, before he stopped abruptly.

“You haven’t been here have you?”

He brought you to the skating rink. Sunghoon followed your hands with his gaze as you gripped the ends of your thin long sleeve.

“Don’t worry, I have a jacket in my work locker!” He took your hand as he led you inside.

His coworkers greeted him brightly, a couple of them squinting at him suggestively when they noticed you were holding hands.

Sunghoon helped you select some skates, before taking your hand again to lead you to the back area to his locker. He grabbed the skates out of your hands to exchange them for his hoodie, grinning as you slipped it over your body.

He balanced the two pairs of skates in one arm, still gripping your hand as he took you to the actual rink.

You sat down at a bench on the outskirts of the stands and stared as Sunghoon squatted down in front of you.

“Here, I’ll help you lace them up,” he said, smiling up at you.

“Ok, dad.”

He rolled his eyes, and you blushed as he took one of your feet in his hands to guide it into the skate. He said nothing as he tightened the laces, and tied them expertly with his long fingers.

You gulped. You couldn’t keep your eyes off of his hands as he put on his own skates.

Sunghoon on ice was a different version of him altogether. He took both of your hands into his, gliding backwards. Effortlessly, he kept his eyes on you, while you stared at the ice at his stable feet and your shaky ones.

“Look up at me; it helps with balance,” he said as he tilted your head up with a finger.

In efforts to hide your embarrassment, you responded, “Ice skating seems like the perfect way for you to charm women.”

He grinned, “Yeah, and judging by the look of you… It’s working, isn’t it?”

If you weren’t so uncoordinated on ice, you’d have grabbed his shirt and kissed him right there.

After freshening up in the bathroom, wiping away the sniffles from the cold and fixing up your hair, you found Sunghoon chatting with his coworker at the skate counter.

“You don’t have anywhere to be early tomorrow do you?”

You thought of the 9 am study session you were invited to go to before class. “… Nope, I’m free.”

“That sounded like a lie, but I’ll take it because I feel selfish today,” Sunghoon joked. You thought of how attentive he was today. He was anything but selfish. “Let’s watch a movie, we didn’t properly use my surround sound last time.”

For once the HYB house was quiet and peaceful. The walls were still lined with funny banners, or old decorations. Each time you were at the house previously, it was at night, the rooms only illuminated by LEDs or strobe lights. This time the front of the house was brightly lit by the chandelier. You noticed the fond remains of a certain poster.

This was the first time being in Sunghoon’s room, without the excuse of tequila or rum or a “loud party” ushering you two inside. You could actually make out the couple trophies that were set on a shelf. First Place Park Sunghoon. Another one reading: Runner Up National Champion - Novice.

“Did you ever think of going pro? Making it your full career?”

Sunghoon smiled softly, “Everyday since I started when I was 9, and until I was 17.”

“Injury?”

“Man, we’re getting into the deep stuff… but no, actually. I think I just started getting tired of skating being the only thing I knew. I had like 3 friends on a good day.”

He sat on his bed, patting the space next to him for you, and continued, “I still skated in comps up until last year before I transferred… But it hadn’t felt the same since high school.”

You placed your hand on his knee in support, saying nothing to let him continue if he wanted.

“Now, I’m just trying new things, learning more about what’s out there. I still skate, obviously, but I think I feel better about just having it a hobby than making it my whole life.”

“You’ve gotta show me your old competition videos.”

Sunghoon frowned, “Too embarrassing.”

“Totally googling you later.”

“I’ll show you under one condition,” his hand shifted onto your lap, and leaned towards you. You could almost feel his breathing.

You nodded slowly, “And what would that be?”

He leaned back and grinned, “You share something equally embarassing of course! Your face is so red… Jeez, what did you have in mind, Y/N?”

You couldn’t take it anymore. The flirting, his suggestive eyes, his teases.

“Kiss me,” you stated. “Please.”

Sunghoon blinked in surprise, his teasing smile fading into one of confidence, of pride.

“Well, only since you said please,” he whispered.

You fluttered your eyes closed and you gripped one of his arms as your lips catch his.

Sunghoon smiled and pulled his lips away for a second, “I can’t believe you ordered mint hot cocoa. I can taste it,” his forehead resting against yours.”

“Don’t like it?” you teased.

He kissed you, before saying, “Normally, never. On you? I guess I can tolerate it.”

You pulled him back in, teeth clashing and eager eager hands reaching for the nape of his neck. One of Sunghoon’s arms snaked around your back, guiding you to lay flat on his bed, his other arm leaning by your head to support his weight above you.

He traced kisses down the side of your jaw and you sighed.

“Please,” you hushed, tugging on the hem of his shirt. As he pulled his top over his head, your fingers eagerly glided up his toned abdomen, over his chest, before settling on his wide shoulders again. He leaned down to brush trails over your neck with his lips, his tongue slipping out to fully taste you.

“Seeing you in my clothes…” he mumbled against your skin. You were indeed still wearing his hoodie from the rink.

A worried thought crossed your mind, which was jarring since your only other thoughts were how good his lips felt on your skin, and how nice his fingers were as one of them teasingly toyed with the waistband of your pants.

“Hoon.” His body stopped moving and he looked up seriously at you with hooded lids.

“Why haven’t we ever … gone all the way?”

Sunghoon leaned back, and then laid next to you on his side. “I didn’t want the first time we did anything more to be when we were drunk. I… wanna really remember it. I’m sorry for not explaining that each time I’ve stopped us…”

“Yeah, not sure Heeseung would appreciate being tangled in a lie.”

“OK. That time, I admit, I don’t even know why I did that. I was so nervous,” he covered his eyes with a hand.

“You’re more sappy and sentimental than you look,” you traced a finger over his lips and kissed him, his eyes still covered.

“Alright,” he finally looked at you, his eyes dark. “What do I look like?”

You smirked, “Someone who looks good underneath me.”

And it was true. Sunghoon looked real good. And he was well worth the wait.

#sunghoon x reader #enhypen x reader #sunghoon scenarios #sunghoon smut #sunghoon fluff #enhypen fluff #enhypen fanfic #fic: dth #peachenle fic #sunghoon imagines #ahhhhhhh i wrote this in a flurry i love and hate it idk #if you see me edit this later my bad lol #i love you sunghoon park!

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vay99 · 1 year

Text

Zoro x reader

Let me help you fall asleep

Anime/Manga: One Piece

It's 4am, the party on the ship has died down and the straw hats are littered over the deck. Behalve of Robin who went to bed early. You couldn't sleep on the other hand, you've just layed down with your crew but stayed wide awake.

"Oi why are you still awake?" Zoro asks as he approaches you.

"I can't sleep, you can go back to bed, I'll look after the ship." you answered simply, still hoping he'd stay by your side.

"You look tired."

"I can't sleep even if I wanted to." you shrug your shouldersbefore staring back at the sea again.

"Can you even sleep in clothes like that, doesn't look comfortable." he points out your cocktail dress that you've just bought with Nami, not because you knew you'd have a party tonight and certainty because you wanted to get a reaction from a certain someone. Definitely not the case. And it didn't even work until now, of course he didn't notice it earlier.

"I guess not, but I'm too tired to get changed and too awake to fall asleep." you yawn, feeling your eyelids growing heavy.

"I'm right back." Zoro comes back after 2 minutes with a shirt and a blanket. "This should be a more comfortable dress to wear to sleep."

"A shirt of yours?" confused you put the shirt on, over the dress, sitting down the whole time and then wiggle yourself out of the dress which you wear underneath. Zoro had his head turned away during the process to allow you at least a bit privacy. "Soooo comfortable."

"I picked one that's not too big of too small." scratching the back of his neck he hands you the blanket.

"You're the sweetest guy Zoro, thank you." you smile at him, appreciating his gesture. Sanji would've done this within seconds, for every girl, But Zoro is different. He only ever offers comfort to the others as in protection, but right now he offered real comfort." I really appreciate this."

You couldn't hear anything he might have responded because sleep has finally won the battle and took you in.

"Guess I'll look after the ship after all huh?" Zoro says to himself, adjusting the blanket so you wouldn't freeze. "Sleep well y/n."

The next morning everyone woke up one after another, besides you. You slept safe and sound until 2pm, just like Zoro who surely needed a nap after his night shift. You layed on the deck of the sunny by Namis orange trees and nobody disturbed you, until you woke up due to a certain someone...

"LUFFY STOP STEALING OUR FOOD!" Sanji yells at his captain who's fleeing the angry chef.

"Why they gotta be so noisy?" you groan, pulling the blanket over your head.

"You've never been an early bird." Robin chuckles, sitting down on her chair with a book.

"I just happen to like sleep." you mumble, stretching out your arms and legs before allowing your eyes to meet the bright daylight. "The sun is too bright turn it off."

"We'd all die if that happened." Robin chuckles again. "That's a nice shirt you're wearing."

"Thanks." you sit up, running one hand through your hair.

"Seems like he did give you at least some attention last night." she comments in a sweet tone, making your face flush.

"I wasn't able to sleep and he gave me one of his shirts so I'd be more comfortable." you mumble, playing with the hem of the shirt. "He has never done something sweet like this before."

"Maybe he would if you'd tell him how you feel."

"I should... I just never thought he'd have a soft spot for me until last night." you confess.

Right then Zoro stumbles intl your eye sight, standing below you by the door of the kitchen. Face bright red. Oh no. O h n o. Hs heard everything.

"I'll just leave you two to it." Robin smiles, leaving the scene as Zoro slowly makes his way towards you.

Sitting down next to you he stays silent for a while until you decide to break the tension.

"I really appreciate that you gave me your shirt, it makes me really happy." you let out a shaky breath, words floating through your head trying to pick a sentence together that doesn't sound like a toddler that just started talking.

"I know you like those kind of things." Zoro scratches his neck, still avoiding eye contact. "I'm just not good at them. I always tried to look out for you or stay close to you but that wasn't really telling."

"I already guessed that you aren't the affectionate type." you chuckle, letting go some of the tension in progress.

"I don't know." he buries his face in his hands. "I guess when the affection is coming from you I wouldn't mind it- what I mean, I would... like it?" he turns his head a bit, looking at you through his fingers.

"Does that mean I can keep the shirt?" you hug your legs towards you, resting your cheek on your knees.

"Oh you can have all of me." Zoro says in awe, loving the sight of you in his clothes. Looking at one another you enjoy the silence, Luffy has been captured by Sanji and the rest is no where to be seen. Which is most likely Robin's work.

"Aren't you tired?" you break the silence, watching him yawn. "Why don't you take a nap?"

"But I want to spend time with you." he yawns again, trying to keep his eyes open.

"Why don't you lay down and rest." you stretch out your legs, resting your back against the reling as you pat your lap. "I can play with your hair if you want me to, it always relaxes me."

A big hesitant Zoro crawls over, but stops before he lays his head down.

"Do... do you really, uhm, not wear anything underneath, like the shirt?"

"I wasn't wearing bra under that dress either." you answer, not quite sure where this suddenly came from.

"Wait, really?"

/Should I be upset that he wasn't looking or happy that my boobs weren't his focus?/ you mentally face palm.

"Yes, really."

"Oh." was all he said. "But you're wearing... like..." he looks at your lap where he's supposed to rest his head on.

"Of course!"

"Okay then." he lays his head down, facing you.

You start running your hands through his green hair, feeling his body shiver by your soft touch.

"I think I don't want to take any other naps than these kinds from now on." Zoro smiles at you before drifting off to a sweet dream.

#one piece x reader #one piece fluff #One piece #roronoa zoro #zoro roronoa x reader #zoro fluff #Zoro x reader #zoro x you

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avastrasposts · 4 months

Text

Pickled Interruptions - a Pickled Peña Production

Hello!

As you've probably seen, we've been gearing up for a writing challenge these past few weeks - Pickled Peña! A brain child of some of my lovely friends here on Tumblr. Anyone who joins in will be added to the Pickled Peña Master List over at @pickled-pena and I cannot wait to see what everyone comes up with based on the prompts that were randomly selected.

Below the cut is my contribution. I ended up using an OFC I created for another fandom but there's no need for prior information about her to read this fic. I just wanted to bring her out to play again because she's such a firecracker and would give Peña a challenge.

There are no warnings for this fic, it's just a bit of spicy fluff, mentions of pickles, sticky floors and Peña's half hard dick because...you know...

“Daniels! No fucking pickles in the vodka orange!” Eve snapped at the new bartender on her shift as she grabbed a pair of tongs and picked the sad, floating cucumber from the orange juice.

“Who the hell even hired you?” she growled at him as he shrugged and slid the drink over to the disgruntled looking patron on the other side of the bar.

Eve sighed and went back to serving her side of the bar, keeping an eye on him from the corner of her eye. It was New Year's Eve, the busiest night of the year in any decent club but instead of making drinks and getting big tips, she was now babysitting the dumbass newbie. The imbecile further down the bar had been hired just yesterday to cover for a skinny kid, Lenny, who’d suddenly called in and claimed he had a broken leg.

And she could see why Daniels had been hired, the cluster of women surrounding his section of the bar made it very evident. The man was undeniably good looking, his broad shoulders and narrow hips emphasized by the uniform worn by all the bartenders at the club, tight fitting black slacks, a white shirt open at the neck, rolled up sleeves and a black vest. She’d be lying to herself if she didn’t say she was tempted, but she pulled her eyes away from his butt as he bent down to pick up a tumbler he’d dropped. It was a very good butt, but she had a job to do, and she could see almost every woman, and some of the men, stare at it when he turned around to grab whiskey from the top shelf.

“Daniels!” she yelled, making him jump and almost drop the five hundred dollar bottle of bourbon he’d just grabbed. “We do not put JD Gold Medal in a fucking Jack and Coke,” she hissed at him as she took the bottle from his hand, “get a fucking grip, regular JD is just fine.”

“Yes, boss,” he replied, grabbing the right bottle this time, pouring a much too generous measure into the glass as Eve rolled her eyes.

“Put this back on the shelf when you’re done,” she snapped, “Considering your name I really thought you’d know more about Jack Daniels, Jack Daniels,” she scoffed at him and went back to her section of the bar.

Javier Peña seethed under his breath as he poured the Coke into the glass, trying to remember his bartending crash course from two days ago. Who’s stupid fucking idea had it been to give him the alias Jack-fucking-Daniels? This last minute undercover thing was dicey as fuck as it was, even if was just to be reconnaissance to figure out when the next drug shipment this club was a front for would come in. He just needed to get a look at the office in the back, but so far the bossy know-it-all they’d stuck him with at the bar had gone back there herself every time something was needed from storage.

He glanced over at her, she was leaning over the counter, smiling at some clearly drunk blonde guy, the open buttons of her white shirt straining against her cleavage, giving the man a perfect view. And he was taking advantage of it, not even attempting to hide the way he was staring at her breasts. But judging by the generous tip he gave her when she passed him his drink, it had been worth it. And he had to give it to her, she had the looks to make all the men at the bar hang on to her every movement as she swiftly made their drinks. He had noticed that most of the men were on her side of the bar, and the women on his side. He didn’t mind, he just wished he was as fast as her when it came to making drinks. He fucking hated having to ask her for instructions, her barely contained eye rolls becoming more and more pronounced the further the night went. But she was right, he wouldn’t have fucking hired himself either, the only drink he knew was whiskey, neat.

Javier had tried flirting with Eve, hoping to get some information from her while she showed him where everything was in the bar before opening on his first night the day before.

“The ice is here, it usually needs to be refilled once a night if it’s busy. The big ice machine is next to the storage room out back,” she thumbed behind her to the door, “but I’ll handle that. You just keep the patrons happy for now.”

“How about keeping you happy,” he smiled, wiping his thumb over his bottom lip, “I don’t mind carrying the heavy stuff for you, cariño.”

“Yeah, thanks, I can handle myself,” she snorted, turning away from him and nudging the bar fridge with the toe of her shoe, “This is where we keep any garnishes for the cocktails, we’ll need to cut up some more during the night so keep an eye on how much we have left.”

“So, you’ve been doing this long? You seem to know your way around a bar,” he asked as he leaned on the counter next to her, making sure he was down on her level as he smiled, reaching up to tuck a strand of her copper red hair behind her ear. She swatted away his hand and he chuckled, “Feisty, jus-”

“If you say what I think you're about to say about redheads and temper, just shut it,” she snapped at him, her eyes flashing, “I’ve heard every possible variation.”

“Sorry, sorry,” he grinned, holding up his hands in surrender as she turned on her heel and stalked off to the other side of the bar, grabbing the dish cloth and throwing it at him with a flick of her wrist.

“You’re on dishwasher duty, don’t fuck up.”

He caught it mid air before it hit his face, sauntering after her as she pulled up the hood of the dishwasher.

“I’m sorry, I’ll be less predictable in the future,” he grinned and changed his tact, giving her a softer smile this time, leaving some space between them, “I’ve always had a soft spot for redheads, never dated one though,” he said, tilting his head as she scowled. He was making sure to keep his eyes on her face and not let them drift down to where the shirt of her uniform opened up.

“Good for you;” she replied, pulling out the tray of clean glasses and pointing to them, “They need to be dried or they’ll have water stains, get to it.”

“Yes, boss.”

“And put them with the other clean glasses when you’re done,” she pulled down the hood again and started turning away but Javier put his hand out to stop her.

“Wait, I apologize, I was an ass, I didn’t mean to come on so strong,” he gently put his hand on her upper arm, careful to not grab her, just let it rest there as he gave her his most sincere look, “but if you get an evening off, I’d like to make it up to you and take you out, just for a drink or something.”

He smiled at her again, keeping it soft and honest looking as he removed his hand from her arm, “I’m serious, you’re a beautiful woman and clearly a much better bartender than me, and I’d like to get to know you. If you’ll let me.”

He kept his eyes on her as he stopped talking, reading her face for any tell tale signs of her softening but she wasn’t budging.

“I don’t date bartenders,” she smirked, picking up an empty tray and leaving the bar area.

“Make it your New Year’s resolution to try something new and date one?” he called after her with a grin as she began collecting dirty glasses

“Not dating bartenders is my New Year’s resolution,” she threw back at him over her shoulder.

The first night at the bar had been a disaster and the second was shaping up to be even worse. The bar was quickly getting packed with people out to celebrate New Year’s Eve and it was all hands on deck. Eve cursed as she saw Daniels attempt a gin and tonic, adding far too much tonic as the guest protested. To adjust he poured more gin into the tall glass and made the G&T strong enough to knock out a bull.

“Daniels!” Eve called, jerking her head in the direction of the back door, “We’re gonna need two new kegs of Stella, get ‘em for me. Patty, take over for Daniels, we’ll be faster without him.”

Javier tried to look pissed off but in reality this was what he’d been hoping for. Handing the G&T to Patty, who gave him a dirty look, he left the bar and hurried towards the backdoor. If he moved quickly he’d get a few minutes to snoop around.

The backdoor led to a large storage room, the kegs were stacked in a corner. But at the other end of the room was another door that led to a hallway, and at the end of that, the office. Javier knew this since they’d managed to pull the blueprint of the building from city hall, and now he quickly grabbed a keg and brought it back to the bar.

“Gonna take a few minutes for the next one, I knocked some shit over, I need to clean it up,” he told Eve, shrugging as she rolled her eyes at him, handing a patron a bright cocktail.

“Just hurry up, Daniels.”

“Yes, boss.”

Javier turned and hurried back to the backdoor, closing it behind him and shutting out some of the loud music from the night club, the dull thud of the base reverberating through the walls.

The office was locked but the cheap mechanism easily gave in and Javier slipped inside, scanning the room for any paperwork. He quickly got to work and flicked through a stack on the desk, moving on to opening the drawers when he found nothing. Next was a thick ledger on the bookshelf and bingo! Tucked between the pages were several shipping manifests, certain rows underlined. The next ship was due in three days. With a satisfied grunt Javier slapped his hand on the ledger.

The door to the office swung open and Javier froze by the desk, staring at Eve who looked at him with annoyance written clearly across her face.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” she snarled, her hand slipping behind her waist in a movement Javier knew far too well, his hands shot up immediately as she pulled a gun from the back of her pants.

“Nothing, boss, I was just looking for the pay statements, I think Patty’s stealing my tip,” he bullshitted and he knew she hadn’t bought a word.

“Bollocks, Peña, you’re fucking DEA and you’re messing up my case.”

Javier felt his mouth fall open as she moved across the office, coming to stand next to him and looking at the shipping manifest.

“How the fuck do you know?” he finally spat out as she ran her finger over the rows he’d just scanned.

“Because I’m CIA, and you’re the worst fucking bartender I’ve ever met.”

“That doesn’t explain it,” Javier replied, “How are you CIA? You’re a bartender!”

“I wasn’t always CIA,” Eve tapped one of the rows, “This one, that’s the one I’m after, and I’m guessing they’re bringing in drugs on it too? Since you’re here?”

“Yeah, that’s one, the same one we’ve seen three times before. Just didn’t realize it’d be coming in this week.”

Eve looked over at him and rolled her eyes, “If the DEA put a bit more effort into their cases you’d know that this ship comes in exactly every twenty-one days, always from one of three ports. But they rendezvous on international waters with a ship from Colombia and transfer over their goods. We’ve had our eyes on the girls they bring at the same time, usually about ten poor things dreaming of a better life, but it makes sense for them to bring in drugs the same way.”

“But how do you know I’m DEA?” Javier asked again and Eve closed the ledger with a snap and put it back on the shelf.

“Because Lenny ‘breaks his leg’ and you’re magically available two days before New Years, the busiest night of the entire year. Any bartender has been booked months ago. But you’re also the worst fucking bartender I’ve ever seen,” she shook her head, tucking her gun back in the back of her pants. “So I lifted your prints and did a run, Javier Peña, DEA. I like to know who I’m working with.”

“Well, fuck…” he huffed, “let’s hope no one else is a thorough as you, CIA.”

Eve gave him a crooked smile, “No one rarely is, Peña.”

“So these guys traffic women too and that’s why you’re here?” he asked as Eve moved to open the office door and he followed behind her.

“Yeah, my boss has been on them for months and got a tip off about this place a few weeks ago, I’ve been undercover here since.” The hallway was empty and they moved out, Javier carefully closed the door behind them, making sure it locked again.

“You had me fooled,” he chuckled, “I thought you were in with them, that’s why I asked you out, to see if I could get you to spill.”

“Sure that’s why you asked me out,” Eve smirked, “Had nothing to do with the fact that this ridiculous uniform shirt is open halfway to my belly button.”

“That may have been a deciding factor in choosing my mark,” Javier grinned as they started making their way back to the bar. Suddenly the music from the club increased in volume, the door of the storage room was thrown open and over the sound of the music, they heard heavy footsteps.

“Shit,” Eve hissed, “we’re not supposed to be back here! Quick, in here!” She grabbed Javier’s arm and pulled him in through a door halfway down the hallway and quietly closed the door. The room was a small storage space, jars of cocktail garnishes mixed with cleaning agents stacked on the floor. The space was cramped and Eve found herself pressed up against Javier’s chest as he squeezed in and closed the door quietly behind them.

“You’re on my foot,” he hissed, shifting, his hands on her hips to move her to the side.

“Stand still, they’re coming,” she whispered back at him, grabbing on to his arms to keep her balance as her foot knocked against a jar on the floor. The footsteps echoed through the hallway and passed the door, as they held their breath.

“Wait outside,” came a gruff voice that Eve recognised as Mason’s, the guy who ran the club and was, supposedly, second in command.

“Yes, boss,” came the surly reply as the door to the office clicked open and shut. Eve tried to keep her breathing as quiet as possible as she and Javier listened to the shuffling boots of the henchman outside the office door, efficiently trapping them in the storage room.

Javier was uncomfortably aware of how her soft breasts were pressed up against his chest, her hands on his arms to keep her steady. The top of her head was just by his cheek and with each inhale he could smell the light flowery scent of her shampoo. It reminded him of springtime back home and without meaning to, he inhaled deeply and held his breath, closing his eyes. He shifted his body weight, his hands on her hips sliding up every so slightly as the warm press of her body made his cock twitch.

She shifted next to him, her hips brushing against what could only be his half hard length, hearing a low intake of breath from above as he adjusted his stance. Pressed up against him, her nose was right next to the soft looking skin of his neck, a smattering of freckles visible in the dim light. She could feel him inhaling softly above her and she did the same, catching his aftershave and fresh sweat from the long shift. She carefully tilted her head up, watching his lips part as his tongue came out to wet his plush bottom lip, before he slipped it back inside, meeting her eyes as he looked down at her.

In the hallway the office door opened and closed again.

“Alright, all under control for tonight, get Jones and head on over there an-”

The crash of a glass jar interrupted the man’s orders as Eve cursed under her breath, somehow the stacked jars by their feet had toppled over and now the vinegar smell of pickle juice filled the storage room.��

“What the fuck is going on, check that room, Mendez!”

Javier grabbed Eve’s face between his hands and pressed her against the wall, his lips on hers a split second before the door was yanked open. He groaned loudly into her mouth, rolling his hips into her soft belly and thanked her quick mind as she pulled him closer by his arms, whimpering against him.

“I don’t fucking pay you for fucking in the storage room!” Mason yelled and Javier yanked himself away from Eve as if they’d just been caught red handed.

“S-sorry, boss,” Eve stuttered, smoothing down her shirt as Mason growled.

“Clean this fucking mess up and get back to work, I’m docking both your pays for this. And for the pickles!”

The door rattled as he slammed it shut, leaving the two of them in the dark again. Javier still had his hands on her face and she was holding on to his arms, exhaling slowly as the footsteps faded down the hallway.

“Quick thinking, Peña,” she said, looking up at him in the dim light with a smile.

“I hope you won’t judge my kissing skills on that,” he grinned, “I had planned to give you a much nicer first kiss if you’d said yes to that date.”

“You’re telling me that wasn’t your best work?” Eve asked, taking in the way his eyes dropped to her lips before finding her eyes again. Her hands were still on his biceps, the warmth from his body seeping into her palms as his muscles flexed and moved.

“Not even close, honey,” his smirk was audacious as he leaned in again, bending down towards her lips, waiting for her to make the final move or pull away. He didn’t need to wait long, her grip on his arms tightened as she moved closer. Her lips were soft when she pressed them against his, parting slightly as he gave her a light kiss, capturing her bottom lip between his own, moving slowly. He felt her open her mouth for him, her tongue touching his lip and he pulled her closer, his fingers sliding into her hair, cupping the back of her head as he deepened the kiss and she responded with a moan.

The small space reeked of pickle juice, it was sticky under her shoes, she could hear Peña’s shoes slosh in it as he pushed her up against the wall. But his big hand, cupping her head, his warm lips over her own, all conscious thought melted away. Even those about how he really was a DEA prick who couldn’t mix a drink to save his life. At the back of her mind, her conscience hissed at her; ‘unprofessional’. But a much larger part of her brain was drowning in the way his tongue licked into her mouth, and the way his hands felt holding her against him as the evidence of his own excitement grew between them.

He groaned into her mouth, rolling his hips against her and she gasped for air, before pulling him closer.

“Please, cariño, tell me you’ll let me take you on that date,” Javier mumbled against her as she kissed the corner of his mouth, moving her lips along his jaw, “I’m not about to fuck you in a storage cupboard, so I need to take you on that date.”

Her teeth scraped across his neck and he hissed as she sucked a mark into the thin skin, his fingers digging into her hips as he sought out any friction he could get.

“I don’t think we need a date, Peña,” she mumbled, letting him tilt her head back and reciprocate the mark she’d left on his neck. He pushed her shirt to the side and found the soft skin over her collarbone hidden just out of sight. Eve curled her fingers through his hair as his mouth made her gasp into the dim light of the small room.

Javi pulled away and straightened up, his hand sliding down from her hip, grabbing the round shape of her ass, pulling her core closer and letting her feel how hard he was as he looked at her, his dark eyes half closed, breathing heavily.

“Javi,” he muttered, bending down to her open mouth again, “it’s Javi.”

“Javi,” she mumbled, “I don’t think we need a date, but…” she trailed off as his teeth closed over her bottom lip and gently sucked it in as she moaned into his mouth. He shifted his weight, lifting his shoe from the sticky floor and pressed his leg between her thighs, feeling the heat of her core through the thin fabric of their uniform pants.

“Fuck, Javi,” she gasped, the pressure of his thick thigh rubbing just where she needed him the most, but with a groan she pulled away from him, putting her hands on his warm chest and pushed him back, “Fuck, don’t, we’re never getting out of here if you do that.”

“What’s the rush?” he chuckled, “Are you really gonna finish the bartending shift now that we have the shipping info?”

“If we don’t, we’ll raise suspicion, better to finish it and leave normally,” Eve replied, trying to catch her breath as his dark eyes continued to trail over her lips, down her neck and the shirt he’d pushed open.

He inhaled slowly, thinking while he lifted his hand and ran the tips of his fingers down her cleavage, caressing the soft skin, finding the lacy edge of her bra, the same white shade as the shirt.

“You’re right, we should finish the shift,” he sighed, reluctantly removing himself from her warm body, carefully stepping back across the wet floor, “I’ll clean up in here, you get back to the bar, they’re probably swamped.”

Eve nodded as Javi opened the door, letting them both out into the empty hallway, his hands still on her waist, reluctant to let go of her, now that he’d had a taste.

“There’s a mop in the other room, and some rubbish bags,” she said as he followed her back towards the club, feeling him caress her hips, cupping her ass as they walked, giving it a light squeeze that made her throw a smile back at him over her shoulder.

“Be careful, don’t cut yourself on the glass.”

“I won’t, I’ll see you out there.”

Javi cursed the sticky pickle juice, and sloshed water over the floor to get it all up once he’d picked up the pieces of glass. He glanced down at his watch as he tossed the trash bag in the bin and opened the door to the nightclub again, it was getting close to midnight.

The place was swamped, people packed in on the dance floor, pushed up against the bar, where he could see Eve holding up a shaker, the vigorous movements making her breasts shimmy under the white shirt. The movement wasn’t lost on the three men hanging on the bar, all three of them clearly transfixed by her cleavage as she prepared their drinks. Hot jealousy shot up Javi’s spine, making him take longer strides, stepping up behind her as she placed the shaker on the bar counter. He scowled at the three men, staring them down as they pulled their eyes from Eve and were faced with his furious face right behind her.

“Patty, quit slacking,” Eve called out, glancing over her shoulder down the bar where the tired looking brunette was leaning against the till, arms crossed, waiting for the bar helper to cut up orange slices.

“I’m waiting for the oranges,” she snapped back at her as Eve accepted the bills from the three men and deftly took another order for a round of complicated sounding cocktails.

“So take another order while you wait, the line is a mile long, how did it-”

“What the fuck, you stand there and accuse me, but where you all this time?” Patty’s voice cut through the music of the club like a shrill fog horn, “You two were gone fucking ages, while we had to fight off this crowd!” She gestured at the throng of people by the bar, some of the patrons watching her angry face with glee, spoiling for a good shouting match behind the bar.

Eve bit back her retort, Patty was right, she and Javier had been gone much too long and she knew the rest of the bar staff noticed.

“It was my fault,” Javier said behind her, “I knocked over a couple of jars of pickles, had to clean them up and that pickle juice is a bitch to get off the floor.”

Patty growled and swiped the orange slices off the cutting board, nearly knocking it to the floor as she stomped over to her section again.

Eve put the last few drinks on to the bar as champagne corks started popping and the music was turned down. Across the nightclub people started to cheer as the manager, and a few of the waiters, began handing out flutes to the guests as midnight approached. There’s temporary reprieve at the bar as the guests turned towards the small stage in the corner where the manager stood, next to the big screen tv streaming live from Times Square.

Javier found Eve’s hand out of sight from the rest of the staff and pulled her with him, around to the back of the bar. Guests were still milling around but they’re all focused on the screen as they started chanting, counting down from ten.

“A kiss at midnight, cariño?” Javi asked, pulling her into his chest, hands landing on her waist and her cheek, sweeping away a damp curl from her forehead.

She didn’t reply, instead she smiled at him and cupped her hand around the back of his head and pulled his mouth down to hers. Around them the crowd shouted but the noise fades as he parted his lips and let her tongue in. She tugged gently at his curls, angling her face to better reach him and he tightened his grip on her waist, pulling her up on her tiptoes so that he could taste her properly.

The crowd cheered, loud yells of ‘Happy New Year!” erupted as the ball dropped, but it faded into the background as she let a low moan escape into his mouth and he felt her tongue lick into him. The music kicked off again, people began to dance, clinking glasses, hugging and kissing, but Javier let his hand cup her cheek, stroking his thumb over her soft skin, her body warm pressed up against his. Neither of them paying attention to the man who’s just spotted them from across the club as Patty waved at him, pointing in their direction.

“Alright, that’s fucking it,” Mason yelled as he grabbed Javier’s shoulder and yanked him away from Eve, “You’re both fucking fired, and you can kiss your pay checks for the night good bye.”

He raised his hands to shove them both in the direction of the staff changing rooms, but pulled up short as he saw the furious look on Javier’s face, Eve’s hand on his arm to hold him back.

Mason settled on growling; “Get the fuck out of my club, you fucking slackers, go make out on someone else’s dime.”

“Gladly,” Eve scoffed, her hand sliding down and grabbing Javi’s, tugging him along as he scowled at Mason.

It didn’t take long before they were both outside the club, back in civilian clothes, their bartending uniforms left behind.

“So, any plans for the rest of the night, querida?” Javier asked, sticking his hands in his leather jacket, fishing out a packet of smokes.

“A bodega sandwich and falling asleep on the couch,” Eve replied, shaking her head as Javi offered her a cigarette.

“I was thinking,” he said, taking a first drag, “you said your New Year's resolution was to not date bartenders?” He tilted his head to the side and gave her a smirk as she chuckled, realizing where he was going with this.

“Yeah, no bartenders,” she smiled and he grinned back.

“Well, it seems I’m no longer a bartender…”

“Thank god, worst bartender ever, Javi.”

“So how about that date, cariño?”

#pickledpena #pickled peña writing challenge #pickled-pena #pickled peña #javier peña fanfic #javier peña #pickled pena #pickledpeña writing challenge

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tatorthots · 1 year

Text

— a jealous encounter

Featured: wanderer x afab!reader x Childe (implied)

cw: suggestive themes, jealousy, cursing, (slight) hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, (slight) possessiveness

Synopsis: Jealousy is nothing more than a pathetic human emotion. It’s truly almost humorous how insecure and weak-minded mortals are, getting riled up simply because the object of their affection gets a little attention. Of course, the former sixth harbinger is far above such trivial emotions (he’s not)

a/n: scara being jealous, soft, and sulky because I said so and also I used sm names for scara because I didn’t know what name to use and I panicked btw have you guys been playing the windtrace event?? I literally can’t stop playing it help

art credit: @Liann1009 on twt

The swaying of forest leaves reflected off the clear spring waters of the still river you had come to rest by. The sun was still high above the fluffy clouds and its warmth gently kissed the skin of every living being and creature under it. It was truly a beautiful day in the outskirts of Sumeru City. And along with the chirping of birds, the sound of your laughter resonated through the forest breeze like a soft melody — absolutely enchanting, he thought, if it wasn’t caused by that damned insolent insect.

Archons, could the man not get a break? Is this finally the ‘divine punishment’ mortals so often preach about? Glaring sharp eyes quietly trailed the tall, orange-headed idiot as he fumbled around you like some love-sick child, far too comfortable with you for the latter's liking. Feelings of disdain soon turned to seething anger. Despite all my efforts, slender fingers dug into the grass underneath him, he still manages to ruin what little I have. Had he not gone through grueling enough changes? Did sacrificing absolutely everything to start anew mean so little? He gave up his past titles, erased his previous relationships, and severed every last thread that connected him to his past self — aside from you — and yet, here stood the bane of his existence during his time as a Fatui Harbinger. And to make things worse, you’re actually friends with him.

Childe, he sneered.

“Ajax, how could you get so excited over anemo slimes?” You giggled as your eyes fluttered into crescents and you bashfully hit the freckled man next to you. You couldn’t help but tease your longtime friend for getting so excited over a few anemo slimes floating around a tree. Though you’d admit, the straight edge determination reflecting from his ocean eyes as he stood straight and strung his bow back to aim made your stomach swirl slightly. You noticed the way his fingertips elegantly let go of the string and effortlessly sliced through the anemo slime mid-air, despite being positioned below and meters away from the distant cliff side tree the anemo slimes were hovering around. It’s amazing, you thought. But what earned him your admiration was the simple fact that he wasn’t trying. Childe didn’t need to. Even when he’s doing something in lighthearted fun, so long as it involves weapons, he’ll breeze through any obstacle or ‘challenge’ with ease. That’s what made Childe, Tartaglia.

However, there was someone who didn’t share that sentiment.

Honestly, Scaramouche doesn’t even know how he ended up in this archon-forsaken situation. The day had begun like any other day, with your limbs intertwined with Scaramouche as he gently stroked your hair and counted the seconds in between as your chest slowly rose and fell — an action he vehemently denies that he does because he longs for your touch; not to mention that it just so happens that the feel of your body against his calms the occasional insecurities and self-deprecating voices whispering in his head. Scaramouche lightly shook his head in flustered contempt when he caught himself softly smiling and gqze slightly softening at the memory of your skin against his, useless thoughts aren’t going to aid me in figuring out how or why I’m stuck here. internally groaning he thought of when you woke up today. you had found him already awake and tidying up the room you had both stayed in the previous night. As you sat up rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you watched Scaramouches quick and precise movements as he prepared your traveling satchel. Funny, you thought, he does all this and I never hear a thing. As much of a light sleeper as you might be, no matter how many chores he’s completed before you wake, you never hear a sound stir you from your slumber. Of course, when you finally got out of bed you found yourself presented with a small plate of assorted fresh fruit waiting for you on the kitchen table, a sight you see every morning. However, you’ve long learned better than to outright thank him for breakfast, or any small acts of service. Not because you don’t appreciate his quiet considerations, but because you learned that Scaramouche will act like a total brat if you confront him about his kindness. Insults range from calling you a moron to being labeled delusional, so you’ve figured it’s best to enjoy these little things and thank him in that way. Lastly, Scara thought about the events that happened after breakfast when it was time to set off yet again. Ah, that’s right…, he begrudgingly remembered. it was as soon as you left the inn that you happened to bump into a tall figure. An apology left your lips quickly before you hurriedly scrambled to catch up to Scaramouches' fading figure until a hand cautiously grabbed your wrist.

“Y/n?” The stranger spoke. At the sound of your name, you quickly whipped your head around to see a messy head of orange locks and a familiar lopsided smile being directed at you. “Ajax?” “So it is you—!!” Sculpted arms immediately wrapped around your frame and lifted you into their embrace. “It’s been too long!”, the voice beamed, and your momentary confusion soon turned into joy as you wrapped your arms around his neck and softly giggled. “What are you doing here? I thought you were on a mission in Inazuma?” You questioned as he set you down with his hands still latched onto your hips, “Well I was mostly there for personal affairs, and I just arrived in sumeru a few weeks ago on assignment,” his voice softened as his head slightly tilted to the side, “I’ve been missing you.” Raising your hand to cup his cheek, you brushed your thumb across the freckles adorning the mighty 11ths features, “I’ve missed you too, Ajax.” Then as if a light bulb had just lit up in his head Childe clasped his hand over yours, “Are you free today? Why don’t you go sightseeing with me? My treat!” “Ah, well I’m actually traveli—“ but before you could finish your sentence you felt cold fingertips clasp around your forearm and roughly snatch it away from the gingers hold, “She’s traveling with me,” indigo irises narrowed menacingly on Childe, and the pure aura exuding from the raven-haired man was comparably hostel to the icy and dreadful snowstorms of Snezhnaya. Scaramouche forced himself between you and Childe, standing protectively in front of you as the latter glared down at him with a smile still plastered across his lips, “Comrade. Who’s this?” Childe inquired, “Oh! This is m—“ you tried answering but Scaramouche cut you off once more with an exaggerated scoff, “The question is who are you?” Crossing his arms and holding his head ever so arrogantly he continued, “Tch. Don't you have any common decency? Or are you just too impertinent to practice basic respect?” A short, dry laugh left Childes lips, “I see.” Crossing his arm and raising a hand up to lightly tap his fingertips on his jaw, Childe feigned ignorance, “Y/n never minded my touches,” with a taunting smile and desolate eyes, he chuckled, “in fact, I’m all too familiar with where she prefers to be touched.” And with that Scaramouches patience snapped, “You dare to—“ sensing the oncoming altercation you quickly grabbed a hold of Scaras hand and guided him behind you, “You’re both very important to me,” you began, “and if I matter to either of you then you’d respect those who matter to me,” glancing between the two men you sharpened your tone, “I’d like you both to get along.”

That was the last thing Scaramouche recalled before he found himself third wheeling the rest of the day. With each moment seemingly getting worse and worse. What an infantile reason to get excited about. They’re practically oversized balloons, his attention darted in Childes direction and his usual scowl was now replaced with a daggering glower, Evidently, this damn worthless scum is filled with much more hot air than any damn anemo slime in the sky.

Scaramouche wasn’t ignorant, it was clear to him since that nuisance came around that his former Harbinger ‘comrade’ had deeper feelings for you than he let on. After all, despite his distaste for the man Scara had spent adequate enough time with Childe to learn a few aspects about him; firstly, Childe can be described by humans as having an extroverted, ‘charming’ persona, and he has no trouble making friends wherever he goes, however, he never lets anyone touch him — it’s a subtle habit and not one easily picked up on; a far cry to the current situation in which Scaramouche has had to swat his hand away from you for the fourth time in a minute. Secondly, despite the hours upon hours the idiot could spend rambling about fishing or spar training, he never actually shares any personal information about himself, and yet, he’d gone as far as surrendering his real name to you. Not to mention he had no problem speaking to you about how much his siblings would ‘love’ you, of course, they’d love her, he scoffed, who doesn’t fall for her? Lastly, and most notably, Childe has no glimmer of life in his eyes. To be honest, if Scaramouche had to think, the only other time the 11th showed even a hint of a glint he would say it would be when Childes tearing his enemies limb from limb — an idea Scara is finding more and more appealing. So then, he thought, I guess I’ll just have to stomp on that little light of his. Tapping his foot impatiently on the ground an ominous shadow gloomed over his face as he lost himself in his thoughts, she’s mine. mine. mine. It had been long since Scaramouche had realized his feelings for you, and he had made it very clear to you that he had no intention of sharing you with others. No, Scaramouche no longer wanted just your friendship, he wanted you.

“Shall I go buy some snacks from a food stall nearby before dinner, comrade?” Standing from his spot next to you, Childe towered over you with his body leaning down to loom mere inches from your slightly warmed face, “I did say I’d treat you today..” half-lidded eyes traced your movements as he brought a gloved hand to cascade across your cheekbone, “didn’t I?” His voice was low and his smile smug; Childe knew full well what he was doing in front of Scaramouche, and he basked in it, though it’s not as if these actions were all too new either. “A-ah.. I- um,” stuttering over her words, huh?, Childe mused, how cute. However, the mere sight of this atrocious act almost made Scaramouche use his anemo vision to slice that wretched excuse of a warrior in half. With a soft smile, you leaned into Childes hand, making the man’s eyes widen in slight surprise as a light dust of pink spread over his face, “That’d be great Ajax, thank you.”

Internally groaning, Scaramouche rested his arms on his knees and hid his head behind his arms as his pretty lilac eyes stayed focused on you, there’s her smile again…, his brows faintly knitted together when he felt his chest start to ache, always caused by something else. He couldn’t help but wonder whether you were truly happy wandering through the lands of Teyvat with him.

“Then I’ll make it quick!” With a goofy smile and a wink, Childe went off into the city walls. Leaving you and Scaramouche resting alone with nothing more than the sound of the river flowing and the city chatter lightly busting in the background. Closing his eyes, Scaramouches brows quirked in annoyance, that self-serving imbecile didn’t even bother to pretend he even remembered me. The feeling in his chest was all too familiar to the electro Archons puppet. Clutching where his heart should be he couldn’t understand why this feeling wouldn’t go away. He couldn’t understand why he hadn’t learned his lesson despite starting anew. Maybe I was meant to live this way… he thought. Feeling a small tap on his shoulder, Scara whipped his head up to see you sitting right next to him, your body lulled to the side and brushing against him as you tilted your head down to get a better look at his sulking face. For a second he was stunned by the suddenness of your closeness, but then he was held captive by your feathery lashes and beaming smile; a warm smile finally directed at him. How quickly his chest went from hurting to blooming with warmth was almost pathetic. Even if you were the reason why he was drowning in misery, even if his pain had been caused by your ignorance, you were still the reason why he felt joy. It’s always because of you…, without realizing his hand had already reached to gently tuck the loose strands of hair blowing across your face, and just as quickly as he realized he retracted his hand in a huff of frustration and embarrassment.

Humming in acknowledgment, you stared off into the grassy mountains of sumeru, “You’ve been awfully quiet today,” your voice was soft and tranquil, “how uncharacteristic of you, no?” Glancing to the side you smiled when you saw him lightly scoff under his breath as he turned his head away from your direction.

“I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re rambling on about.” He grumbled.

“Shall I elaborate?”

“I’d rather you not.” Piercing irises threateningly glared in your direction.

“You’ve been ill-tempered,” you began, and Scaramouche rolled his eyes, “hmm which isn’t all too out of the ordinary, but you’ve definitely been lashing out at every little thing.” With a knowing glint, you glanced at your longtime companion, “Not to mention your aggression with Ajax.” And at that Scaramouche grimaced at the way you spoke his actual name, “You force yourself between Ajax and I whenever he gets close, you demean every single thing he says, you smack his hand away when he reaches out to me — even if it’s just to hand me something, and you taunt and mock him every chance you get,” pausing for a second you let out a heavy exhale before softening your gaze, unsure of whether what you say next is the right thing. “Kuni… all of that isn’t what worries me,” at that you felt his entire body stiffen, seemingly holding his breath as if every ticking second was more important than the last, “I noticed the nail marks you have on your palms from all the time you’ve spent clenching your fists, and I see the conflict that’s been raging behind your eyes since this journey with the three of us began,” balling your owns fists on the fabric of your clothes you let out your final observation, “As small as the changes are, or as hard as you try to hide it, kunikuzushi, I see you. I’ve memorized every expression, studied every curve and line that forms on your features and what they mean… I know you fear that I’ll abandon you,” you purse your lips at the thought, “So how dare you. How dare you ever think I would abandon my other half.”

The absolute, incredulous stare Scaramouche gave you almost made you choke out a muffled laugh. Catching the anemo holder off guard and speechless was a prize all too rare to witness. Yet, what caught your attention wasn’t that you’ve managed to leave him stunned and tight-lipped but instead the unfamiliar red that spread from his cheeks to his ears. There was a quiet gasp from your lips as you admired how beautifully his pale complexion was set off by the searing color. Instantly, your ears perk up as he speaks.

“I.. you don’t…” he began, but immediately he stopped himself. Then, a moment passed. And then a minute. The tension between you two seemed to pile up in pressure, and you now found yourself holding your breath and feeling your heart start to quicken as you stared at him. Awaiting what was to come next. With a defeated look and an airy sigh, he finally turned his full head toward you. “You really are foolish y/n,” his voice was strained, and his eyes peered into yours with such a soft intensity, “hah, really.. you couldn’t be more incompetent, could you?” Swallowing the lump in your throat, your glistening doe eyes simply gawked at him almost owl-like, and he couldn’t help but chuckle at your dumbfounded face. Then that’s when he smiled. A true, genuine, adoring smile, “Haven’t you realized that I’m in lo-“

“I’m back—!”

Childe’s voice ripped through the tension and practically grated Scaramouches ears while you jumped, startled at the sudden noise. Snapping your head to Childe, you saw him holding a small bag with the label titled Puspa Café. “I hope you don’t mind what I got us!” Reaching his hand into the bag he pulled out a crispy, sweet-smelling Candied Ajilenakh Nut dessert, “When I was walking through the different vendors, I was quite surprised to have found a dish that looked so similar to one of the desserts my motherland of Snezhnaya has!” Childe puffed his chest and extended the sugary sweet to you, “Though I’m confident the one from home tastes much better than this, I’m happy to share something similar with you,” softening his azure gaze as you took the dessert from him he continued with a gentler tone, “but I hope to one day treat you to one back home.” Blinking once, then blinking twice, you quickly glanced over at Scaramouche now positioned with his knee up and resting his arm on his knee to hide his face once more, I wonder what would’ve happened…, you pondered, but you knew better than to prod the conversation given the current situation. I suppose it’d be best to ask again later, turning your attention back to Childe you offered a thankful smile, “I’m sure one day we can visit if Kuni agrees to go.” At that, both men froze for a second. We..?, now it was Scaramouches turn to stare owlishly at the dancing grass brushing against his fingers, and without noticing he felt his entire body relax as he let out a quiet, small sigh of relief. Whereas Childe clenched his jaw in annoyance while still forcing an easy-going facade, I need to get rid of him, “Sounds like a plan comrade!” Was all he could muster through slightly clasped teeth as he sat down next to you. Humming to himself in deep thought, Childe wondered what to do about that asshole little leech that stayed glued to you.

All of you sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes — well, two were lost in their own thoughts either processing or scheming, whereas you simply sat between the two men enjoying time together as you feast on your sweet treat. "Ah. Comrade, you seem to have a few crumbs," "Hm?" Moving your hand up to brush away the stray pieces, Childe gently stopped you, "Allow me." He softly spoke as he leaned in close and carefully swiped away the crumbs; his hand then cascaded across your plush skin and caressed the curve of your jaw. Gazing into his eyes and cheeky smile, you found yourself at a loss, feeling both embarrassed and shy from the gesture.

Scaramouche, however, was not at all pleased. This little game of Childes has gone on far too long and writhing in self-loathing had been nothing but a waste of time. You were his. You’ll always be his, and there wasn’t a human, harbinger, adeptus, or archon in this damned world that could ever change that. So, with swift movements, he laced an arm around your waist and pulled you on top of his lap and into his possessive embrace. The sudden movement had stunned both you and Childe and you had no time to react as your eyes glanced up at the smug smirk spreading across Scaramouches lips. His eyes were low and scowling intently at Childe, while the Harbingers smiling face quickly fell, replaced by a much colder and sinister glower. “All this time and not once did you offer me one of those burnt little treats,” Scaras voice was low and mocking, and you could feel the icy touch of his slender fingertip tracing down the side of your face to the base of your chin to guide your full attention towards him, “guess that just means I have to take one myself, won’t I?” And in a quick moment, his lips came crashing down on yours. His kiss was rough but cautious, and you could feel the longing and desperation emitting atop his soft lips. At first, your eyes blew wide open in shock, but then, no matter how hard you tried to focus on what was going going on or move your body to react, all you could fixate on was one little detail, his lips taste.. like a Zaytun peach.

Parting his lips from yours, his eyes quickly scanned your face for any hint of disgust, any reaction, anything. You could clearly see the worry pooling in his irises, but before regret could creep up on him your eyes turned into crescent moons, and a pretty pink blush flushed your cheeks as you smiled dotingly at him. He was taken aback. At first, he was shocked, then confused, he even felt a little angry, but mostly he felt love. Turning his attention from you to the glaring daggers and clenched fists Childe had, Scara smiled in triumph and narrowed his eyes in slight. “You’re right, Harbinger,” bringing his thumb up to glide across his lips he licked them, “this treat isn’t bad, hah, not bad at all.”

side note: happy new year everyone!! and happy birthday to my first, and most cherished, Zhongli ᥫ᭡

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