#HE IS RIGHT ABOUT ALL THOSE VACATION HOURS THOUGH | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

reiderwriter · 4 months

Text

Unhappy Holidays

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: You're unlucky enough to run into Spencer Reid at holiday celebrations four years in a row. In the New Year, you're resolving to rid him from your mind forever, but you never were one to stick to resolutions 👻🦃🎄🎆

Warnings: SMUT 18+ minors dni, enemies to lovers, low-key work rivals, semi-public sex, car sex, hate sex, fingering, thigh riding, creampie, unprotected sex (no condoms but contraceptive mentioned), slight spoilers for s4 of Criminal Minds (but not really).

Prompt Request: #50"You're so fucking obsessed with me.” #82"Really? Because your pussy is saying something different, sweetheart.” #93"Use my thigh. You've been staring at it all night anyway.”

A/N: This is my first submission for @imagining-in-the-margins November/December Office Party writing challenge! I'm sorry I've been so busy recently, but the holiday season really does take a lot of effort to get through at work lmao. Hopefully, I'll be able to post more over my vacation! For now, enjoy some very unserious smut~♡ (as if I write any other kind).

Here's a link to my masterlist, where you can find all my work!~☆

Working with the FBI was no walk in the park, which, from your desk at the opposite corner of the bullpen, Spencer Reid sure made it look like.

Working on adjacent teams for the last three years had become gradually infuriating. You were forever in the man's orbit, stuck dealing with the other women on your team sat giggling about him and his many stupid haircuts, and wondering just how far you'd fallen to have to stare at his stupid face 5 days a week.

If you were unlucky. His team did happen to be out on cases a lot more, whereas yours handled correspondence and consulting cases, a cushy and safe job.

It annoyed you to no end that you had multiple field-based qualifications, extensive fire arms training and were top of your class at the academy only to be relegated yo desk duty whilst boy wonder with his doctorates was allowed to trip over his own feet catching actual killers.

Other people wondered where your dislike of the man sprang from, and you could only let out a disgruntled squeak and tell them your horror stories.

A few months into your job, your been fresh faced and bushy tailed or however that saying goes, and overly eager to take any assignment that came your way. Even if the assignment was baby-sitting an injured Doctor Spencer Reid. He'd been shot whilst out on a case whilst trying to talk down an unsub, and you'd jumped at the chance to get to know him.

He was an office legend, of course, though those days it was more for his characteristic lack of social graces rather than the beauty he'd grown into. You'd been so eager to get to pick his brains, find out how he'd managed to score the position on the BAU at such an early age.

Reality had hit you square in the face when he'd spent a week ignoring you, making you run around like a headless chicken searching for hard copies of documents the FBI had digitised a millennia ago, and hadn't so much as spared you a glance.

The straw that broke the camel's back came as you were running back to him triumphant with a document he'd requested eight hours before and had let yourself into Penelope Garcia’s office quietly, only to hear him bad mouthing you.

“She makes me uncomfortable. I've had her out searching for useless files all day because I don't know what to do with her.”

“She's trying to help, Spencer, it's her job right now, cut her some slack.”

“Her job is currently getting in the way of mine. I even tried writing my own doctor's note so I could get rid of her, but Hotch wouldn't allow it.”

You'd dropped the file loudly on the table, watched the two spin around with horrified looks and turned silently and left the room.

He hadn't once tried to find you after that, and you let your apprenticeship under Doctor Reid quietly fizzle out as you got back to your regular work.

Your resentment still burned though.

Each time you'd been caught in the same elevator with him, you'd ignored him to an almost insane degree, enjoying the way he squirmed and tried to make small talk.

You'd been in contact with JJ and his Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner as well, through cases you'd recommended, but always maintained your cold shoulder.

The one place you could not ignore him, however, was a Penelope Garcia party.

After you'd slammed the file down on her desk, Penelope had guiltily sent you a gift basket filled with sweet treats and books, and had hounded you for a week to make sure your feelings weren't too damaged by her friend's stupidity.

You actually liked her, and found at least one silver lining to the storm that was Spencer Reid ripping through your life.

In the three years since the “incident,” you'd found yourself at three parties where Penelope in all of her heartwarming ways had tried her best to force a reconciliation between the two of you, to disastrous results.

The first was a Halloween party, and you'd been incredibly proud of your Princess Laia costume when you'd arrived. Only until you'd gone to the kitchen to top up your drink to hear Spencer Reid boring some guest or the other about how Star Trek was more advanced, and had a richer plot line.

Penelope had stepped into the kitchen just as he'd caught a glimpse of your (rather skimpy) outfit - yes, you'd chosen swimsuit Laia, yes, you were going to own it - and had immediately jumped into introductions, as if you weren't already intimately acquainted.

“Spencer! This is Y/N! She loves Halloween, too, she makes all of her costumes. You guys should talk.” She'd led the other guest away and left you there with Spencer as you'd awkwardly looked upon his own costume.

“Are you the Tenth Doctor?” You asked begrudgingly, noting his pin-striped suit and the shorter hairstyle he'd chosen.

“Are you a fan? I prefer the original show run more than the current stuff, but David Tennant has really been doing a wonderful-”

“I'm sorry, let me stop you there. I don't watch Doctor Who. I guess I prefer something with a… How should I say, richer plot?”

He'd snapped his mouth shut and didn't have chance to open it again before you turned dramatically and walked away from him.

The second party you'd been cornered into was just over a year later.

Having been stuck in the office over Halloween, Penelope was determined to get in one last celebration before Christmas steam-rolled every other holiday, and thus you'd been invited to her single-people-only-friendsgiving-potluck, and you'd found yourself having to navigate knocking on her door with a casserole dish in your hands.

Luckily a large hand had appeared from behind you and knocked on the door for you. Unfortunately, the sudden shock from the silent appearance of a man right behind you startled you so much that the dish fell straight from your hands anyway.

Penelope opened her door upon hearing the crash and you whirled on your would-be attacker.

It was Spencer again, eyes round in shock, hand still curled into a fist.

You took a calming breath as you gathered yourself, trying not to bite his head off. You wanted to scream and shout and rip his head out but you didn't, instead letting the fury drip into your voice as you finally opened your eyes again.

“That dish took me four fucking hours to make.” You huffed in anger once more as Penelope guided you into the apartment and poured you a glass of wine before you moved back to the entry hall to clean it up again.

Needless to say he didn't care to converse with you after that.

A few small parties in between had been blissfully Spencer-less and you'd lulled yourself into a false sense of security. That's when you accepted the Christmas party invitation.

As one of the unlucky few members of the FBI who had to stay out over christmas in case of some emergency or the other, you'd been grounded in Virginia, unable to travel home for the holidays. So Penelope Garcia's singles-only-Christmas-fun-time-Party was your last ditch effort to spend the holidays actually resting and eating good food.

Learning from last time, Penelope reassured you that there was no potluck, that she had prepared all the food herself, and all you'd need were a bottle of wine and a willingness to party.

You'd taken those recommendations as law and had immediately let yourself into a glass of mulled wine as you arrived, and - noticing that the party was Reid-free - had allowed it to raise your Christmas spirits slightly more than you usually would.

By hour two of the event, you were full of yuletide joy and swaying freely along to the tune of Silent Night.

Spencer’s late entrance really would have gone unnoticed by you had you not bumped face first into his chest as you spun yourself around in your dance, his hands quickly falling to your hips to steady you.

The few moments it took you to gather yourself were about as long as you needed to realised that he'd caught you in his arms underneath the mistletoe. And with your mind fogged by mulled-whatever-it-was-Penelope-mixed-into-that-punch, the part of your brain that objected to the very existence of Spencer Reid went silent, and the incredibly tiny and somewhat damaged part of your brain that instead saw him as attractive started shouting loud instructions.

Before your common sense could return, you pushed yourself up on your tiptoes to kiss the very warm, very close man holding you upright.

“Mistletoe,” you muttered as you clawed his arms off of you and took yourself straight to Penelope's bathroom to throw up.

So yes, your acquaintance with Spencer Reid had never been good, and you were perfectly fine with resenting him from afar, privately.

With three years of bad experiences under your belt, you weren't excited at completing your yearly tradition of horrendous interaction. Which is perhaps why you immediately and loudly protested Penelope’s New Years Eve party invitation.

“Y/N, it's a party. What's the worst that can happen?” She pleaded as she followed you down the corridors of the office building.

“I could see Spencer Reid. I could be forced to converse with Spencer Reid. I could get absolutely wasted and kiss Spencer Reid. There, three options, please accept my resignation from partying.”

“Y/N we both know you don't drink anymore, so at least one of those is unlikely to happen. And Spencer might not even come, he has tickets for an indie theatre from 6pm onwards, they're playing some Russian movie from the 60s that's like 4 hours long or something. So u retire yourself and tell me you'll come?” She had to take three or four steps for each of your own, not that you were so different in height but because you were practically marching in order to avoid the topic.

But you finally stopped and let out a sigh as you turned back to Penelope who stopped just before she ran into you.

“You're sure he won't be there?”

“I'm sure he RSVP’d no.”

“Fine. But I'm not drinking and I will still be expecting the Penelope Garcia virgin punch experience.”

“Bring the party poppers and you have a deal.”

“Done.”

–X–

Over the week since you'd accepted the invitation, you'd made peace with it. For the most part, you did love a Penelope Garcia production. There was something wonderful about your friend and her ability to brighten anyone's mood, an ability that was only heightened at holidays. She was like a glittered goddess gaining power when worshippers used her altar, except the altar was her house and the worship was a range of hallmark-induced holidays.

You arrived at the party at 10pm, and though that was the start time you'd been given, you weren't surprised to see a full house of Penelope’s team mates already in attendance. Derek Morgan, Jennifer Jareau and Emily Prentiss sat spread across the sofa in the living room area, and you noticed a few techie friends also grabbing drinks and chatting.

“Y/N, I'm so glad you're here! You remember everyone on the team, right?” She pulled you into a hug and then sat you down in the middle of the group, waiting for you to mingle and become comfortable before she ran off to more hostess duties.

“Of course, nice to see you guys.” You grabbed your promised punch and sat back comfortably, striking up a conversation with Emily about how bleak the dating scene had been recently.

“It seems like all the men around me are jackasses,” Emily muttered and you giggled along.

“I'm wounded,” Morgan shot back, a hand pressed to his chest in faux pain.

“Good. You're like a lion out there in the clubs stalking gazelles, it's like watching a nature documentary when you're out there.”

You almost snorted your entire drink up your nose as Emily finished, needing to compose yourself for a second.

“I guess the men on our team aren't great with romance,” JJ laughed and took a swing. “Hotch and Rossi have four divorces between them, and Derek here is a lost cause.”

“Our only hope is young Spencer. May he grow into a respectful young gentleman and break out curse,” Emily toasted.

“Oh that ship has sailed,” your laugh this time was bitter, your mood immediately growing sour with even the smallest mention of Spencer Reid.

“Ah, Penelope mentioned you had a problem with our boy wonder. Care to share?”

You opened your mouth to give your standard non-answer and move the conversation along, but you were interrupted.

“Yes, Y/N, care to share? I am slightly curious about that as well.” You turned around and there he was, and your stomach turned in disgust.

Just one time, just one party. You'd been having fun, and here he was to ruin it.

“What are you doing here?” you gaped up at him, unsurprised to see him still decked out in sweater vest and slacks even in his down time.

“I was invited.”

“You declined, Penelope said you had movie tickets.”

“Ticket, singular. And it was cancelled so here I am. What's your problem with me, Y/N?” His jaw clenched and he grabbed the back of your chair and leaned down. It was supposed to be intimidating, but you rolled your eyes. When he looked that attractive, veins in his arms popping out of the sleeves he'd pulled up, you couldn't see him as intimidating. His arms were distracting yes, but God that was nothing compared to his thighs. His pants were tight, and you thanked whatever Clueless tailor had sewn them, because you now allowed yourself a momentary lapse to enjoy the appearance of his lower body.

You tried to shake the thought of his attractiveness from your mind, reminding yourself where you were and in what company.

“I don't think I need to answer that. I think I'll enjoy holding it over your head instead,” you said, standing up and beginning to gather your things.

“Wait, Y/N, where are you going? New Year isn't for another 30 minutes.” Penelope scrambled over and grabbed your hand, pleading with you to stay.

“I'm sorry Pen, but there's just this very annoying bug buzzing around me, and I think I need to get away from it.” You said your goodbyes and excused yourself from the party, happy to have walked away relatively undamaged.

Fate had other plans, and as you stepped out of the apartment building ready to walk yourself home, a hand caught yours from behind as a voice chased you.

“Y/N, wait. I'll go. You go back inside.”

“And return with my tail tucked between my legs after making a grand exit? I'll pass, thanks boy genius.” You shook yourself from his grasp and made to walk away again, but he quickly matched your pace and stepped into your path, cutting you off.

“I can't let you walk home. It's like 40° out here, and your coat is more style than substance.”

“Get into a car with a stranger? I'm sure you of all people know how stupid that sounds.” You stuck a finger out and poked his chest, but he grabbed your hand and held it in place as he spat out his next words.

“I'm not a stranger, I'm the man you're obsessed with, Y/N. Big difference.” You laughed, mostly in shock at his indignance, but he stared at your face as serious as could be.

“Me? Obsessed with you? I'm not the one who followed a woman they're barely acquainted with out of a party filled with all of my friends. Sounds like you're projecting, Spencer.”

“Am I?” He questioned, stepping closer and grabbing your hip as he continued his questioning. “I wasn't the one who was sat there talking about me with all of my colleagues.”

“Well, I wasn't the one who turned up to a party I'd declined an invitation to.”

He was imperceptibly close now, hand gripping your hip so tight you wondered if it'd leave you with a mark.

“I certainly was not the one who initiated a kiss last year, Y/N. You need to face the facts, you're so fucking obsessed with me.” If his hands had you feeling dizzy, his words were completely knocking the sense out of you. Suddenly you returned to the person you'd been under that Mistletoe, and everything from his closeness to the rough edge to his voice begged you to do it once again.

“Go fuck yourself,” was about all the words you could manage as he finally let his lips fall down and crush into your own.

You should've pushed him away, but instead your traitorous body wanted to prove his point, opening up for him faster than you'd opened up to anyone else before.

His tongue flicked against your lips and you gladly let him explore your mouth, opening up to tangle your tongue with his.

He tasted sweet, like the punch Penelope had handed you earlier, only now you wondered if someone had accidentally laced it with how free you were being with your affections.

He resurfaced for air, but you didn't care if there was nothing in your lungs at all if it meant that his lips would engage your own in battle once again.

“Look how much you want me,” he smirked. “Look how needy you are after a single kiss, chasing my lips like that.”

“You and your big fucking mouth. I wish you'd shut up once in a while.”

“I'll make it my new year’s resolution.” His lips joined your own again, and you clashed hard, exploring as much as you could muster as he pulled you in the direction of his car.

“I'm not driving… home… with you,” you growled between kisses, trying not to put your teeth to his neck and bite down hard. You're not sure if that impulse was a murderous one or a kinky one.

“I'm not putting you in the front seat, Y/N, I'm putting you in the back. You should be familiar with the idea.”

Heat sparked between your legs, and you allowed yourself to be manhandled into the beat-up trash heap of a car.

He'd not taken his hands off you as he got you in, pushing himself in first and then pulling you by the hand that you'd unconsciously gripped hard. You immediately straddled his hips, skirt naturally riding up in the process. He noticed and looked curiously down at you, growling as you pressed your lips against his neck and grabbed you instead by the hair gathered in a ponytail at the back of your head.

“See, you're obsessed with me. Just admit it.” Without breaking eye contact, he dug his fingers into the material of your tights and pulled in opposite directions, leaving your underwear exposed to his wandering eyes.

“I'm not obsessed with you,” your voice needed conviction to land, but it came out as a lusty whisper, especially as he slipped his fingers inside your underwear and finally touched your aching cunt.

“Really? Because your pussy is saying something else, Princess.” He found your clit faster than you'd ever expected, rubbing slow circles into your skin as you began rocking your hips back and forth.

It was becoming hard to disagree with him, with each flick of wrist growing the heat between your legs. You attacked his neck again, hands practically ripping at his top buttons so you could muffle the sounds of your arousal against his neck, collarbone, chest, any stretch of that pale skin available to you.

He forced your hips to a stop with one hand as he slipped a single digit inside of your hole, gathering your arousal as he set a steady pace, thumb keeping your bundle of nerves occupied.

“Listen, Y/N, can you hear that?”

“I can't h-hear anything.” You had to grind your teeth together to get the words out with minimal interruptions of moans bursting from the pit of your stomach.

He leaned in close to your ear, nuzzling your neck and placing chaste kisses up towards your ear, finally pulling away just enough to whisper a single word in your ear.

“Liar.”

His hand stilled and pulled off you quickly and your eyes broke open, hands unconsciously fitting into his shirt as if you were worried he was going to leave you there like this, on the edge of pleasure but still so far away.

“Use my thigh. You've been staring at it all night anyway.”

“Jackass. You've only been here for like 20 minutes.”

“You can climb right out of this car if you want to, Y/N.” He tried to keep his tone light, but the death grip he had on your thighs, the very obvious tent pitched in his pants and the way his eyes couldn't go five seconds without undressing you told you you had more power in this interaction than he wanted to give you.

There was no way either of you were letting the other go unused tonight.

You relaxed your grip on his shirt and shifted your weight to one of his thighs. Lithe he may be, but lowering yourself down there was an unexpected strength there. He watched on curiously as you rocked experimentally against him. Back and forth you rocked, trying desperately to keep up his momentum or tempt him to help you out again.

It was time to let your voice back out, and you did, moaning without a care as you hummed his leg like a bitch in heat.

“You're enjoying this lot, huh, Y/N,” he muttered, and you watched as his hand worked his pants zip open, removing one of the barriers in the way between the two of you, as he began palming himself.

“What's that saying? Anything you can do, I can do better?” He growled at that response but didn't stop you. Instead he bought a hand down on your ass as you moved, so hard you jolted at the sudden pain. Your eyes shot open as your hips stilled, but you felt warmth grow between your legs.

“Yes, you definitely enjoyed that. Should I do that again, or do you think we should hurry this up and go back up for the countdown?”

You hesitated only a second before you pushed his hand off his lap, shifting your hips further towards his knees before letting your hand reach for where his had just been.

You didn't let yourself think about how big he was as you pulled his cock free, didn't let yourself wonder how he measured up against anyone you'd been with before. You didn't let yourself waste time thinking about how various office rumours were true, and definitely not a second was wasted feeling jealous about how those rumours were spread in the first place.

Instead you simply slammed your lips back against his, mouth opening to let your tongue engage his as you lifted your hips with his help and lowered yourself down on him.

You didn't have to rid yourself of sinful thoughts after that as he purged every single brain cell from your head, filling you so contently that there was simply no space for anything but him.

You locked up on top of him, clawing at his shoulders as you whimpered at the stretched, falling so he was balls deep inside you. You wanted to move, to use him for your pleasure, but your walls tightened every time you even thought about it as he stroked your hair through it all.

It had been some time since you'd last had a sexual partner, and you needed the few minutes to overcome the first uncomfortable bliss of it all.

“That good?” he whispered, but the harsh tone of earlier was gone, replaced only by unsure humour to break the silence.

“Been a while.” He nodded, kissing you again to distraction as he shifted your positions.

Cradling your neck and securing your legs comfortably around him, he lowered you against the backseat, pulling out slightly as you adjusted to the new angle.

“Better?” You nodded quickly, because it was. There was no more pressure on your legs, and despite the cramped space in the car, you had enough space to lie almost flat.

“Yes… thank you.” Just as his cutting tone had escaped him, you also heard your own tone softening, the sigh of contentment slipping past your lips almost sweet. Almost.

“Are you going to fuck me now, or what?”

He let out a shocked laugh, but lent down to shut you up with a kiss nonetheless. Bracing himself against the car door, his hips softly rocked into you, pace increasing until you were back to the edge of cumming, nails pressed hard into his skin until you were sure he was going to complain.

He didn't though, but kept up his thrusts, until your vision suddenly darkened and stars exploded in them, rolled back in your head as they were.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, where should I…?” He panicked, but you wrapped your legs around him, grabbing him by the tie and pulling him down to swallow his moan as he shot his load inside of you.

“Birth control.” You whispered when you finally let him go, gasping for air. “Contraceptive pill. No need to get the car dirty.”

He collapsed on top of you then, forehead resting against your own as you both caught your breaths.

The moment was silent, and you found the synchronicity of your breaths almost calming. Eventually you had to break apart, and he helped you up to a sitting position, but didn't break eye contact as fell back into his lap.

His hands stroked your back, dipping to your ass at times, but he didn't talk. Neither of you did.

The eye contact between the two of you was possibly the most pleasant conversation you'd ever had.

“I'm sorry.” He blurted, just as fireworks erupted into the night sky. Your heart shook, and you weren't sure of it was the shock of the sound, or the way the rainbow of lights illuminated his sincere expression.

“You don't have to apologise for cumming in me, Spencer.”

“Not that. Before. The casserole and the mistletoe, and the Halloween costume.”

“Wow. Um, okay. Apology accepted, I guess, though I'm not entirely sure why you're apologising now.”

He took a deep breath just as another set of fireworks went up.

“I pulled you under the mistletoe. It was Penelope’s idea, she knew how stupid I was being around you and sent me over. I saw it and took the chance.”

“Fuck. Why?”

“Because I was pretty useless at being chivalrous the year before.”

You climbed off his lap in a scramble and sat on the seat beside him, mind racing, trying to figure out where the hell he was going with this.

He turned to you, trying to keep your attention as he stumbled over the words.

“You couldn't knock on the door, so I wanted to help you, but I didn't think I'd scare you so much you'd drop it.”

“You didn't scare me it was a momentary lapse in my observational skills.”

“You shrieked,” a smile threatened to pull his lips up, they twitched as you flushed red.

“And Halloween?” You looked at him again now, trying to figure out what the hell was going on between the two of you.

“You refused to look at me for a year after we stopped working together,” he shrugged quickly running a hand through his hair and expelling a breath. “I don’t really know how to talk to women.”

“You just know how to piss them off?”

“Morgan says it comes naturally.”

“Yeah, well, Morgan is very wise.”

A brief silence stretched between you, or as silent as a night full of cracks, pops, whizzes and bangs could be.

“I don't get it. You tried your best to get rid of me when I was there to help you. I wanted to impress you, and you kept sending me on meaningless errands, and now you're saying what? You wanted my attention?” There was a quiet anger to your voice, but you were surprised to find it diminished and tired.

“I wanted you gone because you were distracting me, Y/N, not because I hated you.”

“Well, what's the difference, Doctor Reid? Please indulge me.” You huffed a little but kept your eyes on him, trying not to seem too desperate for his answer.

“I have an IQ of 187. Emily says when I'm around a pretty girl it's more like 52,” he fidgeted with his pants, forcing the words out.

“You're a pretty girl. We had a case to work and all I could think about was how to get you to like me. Hotch chewed me out like three separate times for being absent minded.”

He was looking anywhere but you, trying his best not to appear like a fool but you were locked onto him.

“Oh my god you're an idiot.”

“When you're around, yes.”

“And that means I'm equally stupid.”

“No, you just jump to conclusions and hold grudges. There wasn't anything really that stupid about your actions, though it could be suggested that not thoroughly thinking through the wording of the conversation you overheard-”

You cut him off with a kiss, pulling him down again mlby his tie.

“Oh my god, shut up,” you whispered as you broke apart.

“Does that mean we can do this again? Because I'd like to do this again?”

“Stop talking, start kissing jackass.”

He finally didn't argue with that, pulling you back into him as you sat under the stars in his car welcoming the new year.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid criminal minds #dr spencer reid #criminal minds smut #cm writing challenge

1K notes · View notes

animeyanderelover · 6 months

Note

Since you're starting JJK, can you do the sleeping with a yandere ask for Yuuji, Sukuna, Megumi, Nanami, Gojo and characters of your choice?

I’ll be going on a vacation during my holidays so expect little to no updates from me then. Those sleeping habits that are what I imagine those characters to be like, by the way.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationship, toxic relationship, obsession, possessive behavior, delusion, clinginess, abduction

Sleeping with a Yandere

Itadori Yuji

🩷Yuji is a walking cuddle bear already if you two aren't sleeping in the same bed because he just can't get enough of his sweetheart. An abduction is never something that Yuji sees himself doing nor do you really so with the so unexpected abduction your relationship falls apart and it breaks Yuji's heart. Maybe some part of his brain can understand why you're as upset as you are right now but considering that he only resorts to an abduction in extreme situations, another part of him is just as stubborn to believe that he has done only something to be able to protect you. It isn't like he plans to imprison you forever after all. His delusions have even made him hope that you'd want to share a bed with him yet he resigns himself to your rejection and prepares a futon for you in another room.

🩷One of the most obvious problems with Yuji isn't even something that is his own fault. Sukuna has to make some comments from time to time to try to annoy and anger the boy which might happen whilst both of you try to sleep as well. He always slaps the mouth of Sukuna that suddenly appears and apologizes to you slightly embarrassed about the inconvenience. Otherwise Yuji sleeps well, really well. Maybe sometimes a bit too well as you can't help but wonder how you can get him to wake up when you awake in the middle of the night and feel the urgent need to go to the bathroom. It always takes you a minute or two of shaking, light slapping and whispering his name until he wakes up and lets you out of his arms because his grip is too strong for you to free yourself alone. He snores slightly but that isn't the worst, you'd much rather make a fuss about the fact that he tends to drool on you in his sleep.

Fushiguro Megumi

💙As Megumi's darling you'd do the both of you a favor by being a reassuring individual since the Jujutsu Sorcerer tends to be very easily paranoid. He's had a case of being stressed around people before yet now with your addition to his life, this all becomes just multiple times worse. Ultimately it is this paranoia that drives him to the act of an abduction and similar to Yuji, he partially knows why it would scare you. Yet he has never had problems with justifying questionable actions with his love for you in mind so this won't be any different in this scenario. Why don't you understand that this was all done for your safety?? A strong negative response from your side leads to avoidance as he gives you time, gives himself partially time too to calm himself. Both of you sleep in different rooms during that time, although you know that he still keeps an eye on you.

💙He doesn't want to show a very strong response when both of you start sharing a bed, it isn't his style. He would be lying though if he would say that he isn't looking forward to it. It's one of the highlights of his entire day where he has to exhaust himself with the antics of his fellow Jujutsu Sorcerers and pressure from the Zenin clan so spending the hours of the night with your warmth close to his body always reminds him that there's still something good left for him, a person who makes all the drama durable. I see him as someone who needs hours to fall asleep simply because there's so much going on in his mind and often it happens that Megumi goes through interactions you had with people that day and start overthinking certain gestures and words you exchanged with them. He isn't someone with a deep sleep either and worst of all is that he tends to wake up a lot at night, his gaze always searching for you every time that happens and if he doesn't see you, he tends to freak out a bit.

Zenin Maki

💚If her darling is acting like a crybaby after their abduction, there might be signs of very mild annoyance from Maki's side but otherwise she is very patient. She fully understand why you're upset and mad at her, she's aware of what she has done. The aspect of protection dulls potential guilt though as she will always value your safety and life over your own feelings if there is no other way around it. She's so tough and strict but oddly fair at the same time because her cold facade doesn't mean that she just doesn't care at all. She's willing to give you some space and time for yourself as she's sure that you need it and as long as you don't try to escape or are seriously rude, she won't force you into anything. You get your own room with your own bed to sleep in and won't hear much from her for the next few days, although you know that she's still checking on you.

💚She is looking forward to it but don't expect her to openly admit that. She isn't one to ask you first about this and if you're the one to suggest it first, she will never spot teasing you subtly about it for the rest of your life. She does her best though to suppress the smug grin that wants to appear on her face during the first few nights. She isn't actively cuddling you but you definitely have a problem at hand when she decides to swing an arm around your waist because subconsciously she tightens her grip once she falls asleep and since she has a very superior strength to the average human, you won't get up anytime soon unless you wake her up. She normally is able to sleep quite well but when she's stressed she experiences troubles falling asleep or tends to wake up multiple times at night. Normally she acts all tough and rarely talks to you about her own worries but if you ever witness her having an erratic sleep at night, you always know that there's something that is stressing her out.

Ryomen Sukuna

🗾His darling is screwed no matter how you might look at it, especially if they're only a human. Because this man has made it very apparent that he doesn't care for anyone or anything and even you won't be an exception for this. Sukuna has always been a man who takes what he wants and that applies for you just as much. You're an object of his affection and greedy desire, by all means he sees you as his valued possession more than he sees you as a person with feelings and rights. So you can't expect any sympathy from him after your abduction and you'd do your best to not get on his nerves because he can hurt you and he will do so if he feels like it. Sukuna only does what he wants and the only thing you can really do is take it silently in hopes of not angering him but he'd find it cute if you would always show a little bit of fear around him.

🗾I'm not even sure if he needs any sleep anymore since his times as a human are long over although he has kept his memories from that time so he still remembers that humans need sleep. Although what you need doesn't have to mean by a long shot that he'll just give it to you freely. In fact I totally see him terrorizing your sleep sometimes for the shallow reason of his own sadistic amusement. Other times he only allows you to fall asleep if you let him join you in bed and he'll keep you otherwise awake nights on end until you're too tired to care anymore. You're incredibly dumb for letting him so close to you in your most vulnerable state and the times that he has considered abusing that vulnerability are numerous. Honestly, he's being the ultimate creep by just watching you sleep the entire time, hands roaming over your body to feel what is his but if he's feeling rather relaxed and mellow, he sometimes just buries his face in your neck, closes his eyes and enjoys your scent, your warmth, your heartbeat.

Gojo Satoru

🩵Best of luck with Gojo after an abduction, better say goodbye to your privacy and personal boundaries because Gojo? He just doesn't give a single fuck about any of those. No, somehow he grows even more overbearing after you're permanently stuck in the probably biggest house that you've ever been in. Partially just because he feels like he has now his dream of living a peaceful and domestic life with his sweet lover without any stress from higher-ups or anyone objecting to this relationship. Now he can just love you and keep you for himself. It's a very strange and questionable way of fulfilling his dream but he is at a point in his life where he has given up to feel guilty and doesn't care anymore. He's always been the strongest to satisfy his own clan and the higher-ups of the sorcerer world so he deserves someone for himself. Someone for him and him only.

🩵He's a clingy monster and you should already know this as he has barely kept his hands to himself during the entire time since you've known him and that has only grown worse the stronger his obsession got. There is no question, you are going to sleep with him in one bed from the moment you are imprisoned in your new home with him. He isn't even listening to your protests and complains and you'd better not provoke him unless you want to see him dropping his light-hearted facade. Seeing him asleep disturbs you but not because of his clingy behavior and tight hug he always gives you nor his surprisingly deep sleep but because he looks so terribly vulnerable. White hair covering his eyes, soft breaths escaping his lips and no teasing expression adorning his face. It's even worse when he initially wakes up and blue and sleepy eyes stare at you as he whispers, no, pleads you to never leave him. It breaks your heart a little.

Geto Suguru

🗻Suguru has broken your trust severely when you realize what he has been doing all along, abusing your trust and ignorance to his own advantage until you made him your most trusted person and told him all of your thoughts. Now you're here, imprisoned and surrounded by jujutsu sorcerers who share his views. You're a lesser being in here for being a non-sorcerer and you know that secretly most of the people here look down on you but only show some level of respect because you're Geto's precious love or whatever he's feeling for you. No one tells you what's really going on but you are smart enough to understand that those people possess very special powers and that something is always watching you even when you're all by yourself. So you never misbehave, aware what would happen otherwise.

🗻He isn't over the fact that he's fallen in love with what he hates the most even after an abduction so you are sleeping elsewhere. A tiny room with a futon as if to rub your lesser position in your face but truth be told, he's doing this mainly because he secretly wants your warmth next to him at night. He's just trying to reject his desires as he doesn't want to fall too deeply into his infatuation but it's already too late to turn back and perhaps you're more surprised than anyone when one day he tells you you'll share a bed with him from now on. You even vocalize your confusion but shut up when he throws you a sharp glare, silencing you as he himself doesn't want to answer your question. Vocalizing his needs would only make it harder to brush off as something less after all. Geto doesn't want to show too much affection but subconsciously he always fails as his half-awake form always pulls you closer to his body, always desires to feel your warm body safely held against his own as his long hair tickles your neck and face.

Nanami Kento

💛Here we have a man who is trying to be his most respectful to you after an abduction that he has been planning for a longer time now after a triggering accident, most likely something regarding his very protective feelings. He isn't scolding you for being scared and even lets you insult him all you want with a frightening calm expression on his face, only really stopping you if you try to escape, hurt him or yourself in which case you see his face flashing in anger and slight frustration as you realize how scary he can be if he chooses to be. He gives you space as much as he can but even then his presence is felt throughout your entire new life as you realize that Nanami apparently enjoys taking care of you to the point where he's being controlling with it. There's a certain schedule to your life now, one that he has prepared specifically for you.

💛This even includes your bedtime as you have to be at a certain hour in bed and get enough sleep and have to get up at a certain time in the morning. Nanami isn't forcing you to share a bed with him though as he graciously prepares another room for you to stay and sleep in. So it's a decision based on consens after your abduction to sleep with him and he's another case of showing his emotions in a very controlled way whilst being deep down just relieved that the worst phrase of the abduction seems to be over now. His sleeping schedule is just as meticulous though so both of you go to the bed at the same time and stand up in the morning at the same time. Nanami is also another candidate who needs a bit longer until he falls asleep because he's also thinking a lot when he lies in bed and only silence surrounds him. He has always an arm wrapped around you but the grip isn't too tight for you to not be able to free yourself if you should ever feel the need to visit the toilet. He is a bit more of a sensitive sleeper though so try to be quiet if you don't want to wake him up.

#yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere jjk #yandere itadori #yandere itadori yuji #yandere megumi #yandere fushiguro megumi #yandere maki #yandere zenin maki #yandere sukuna #yandere ryomen sukuna #yandere gojo #yandere gojo satoru #yandere geto #yandere geto suguru #yandere nanami #yandere nanami kento

2K notes · View notes

aemvnd · 5 days

Text

𝓇.cameron. ┆ blaze.

◟ ㅤᡣ𐭩ㅤㅤ ݁.﹒ a lil late. ‹3 but happy 𝟒/𝟐𝟎 to the angels who celebrate. !!! 🍃♡ྀི also... i'm high as shit rn so sry for any typos—i'll fix 'em later, mwa! 𝓍𝑜𝓍𝑜.

jus' thinkin' abt rafe celebrating 4/20 with his girl . <3

you're with your boyfriend that's still dealing at the time, some marijuana and some coke on the low, and you already know you're getting your little stash for free. rafe spends the last three days making sure he had the best, richest, and highest quality product of weed being shipped for his girl to smoke just in time for 4/20.

typically, rafe didn't let his girl consume any type of drug, even marijuana, and even the lightest of those fruity cocktails you love so much at the country club are just enough to get you drunk after only one or two, so he knows even with 4/20 quickly approaching, he's still going to keep a protective, and firm eye on you at all times.

especially now, since rafe is supposed to be inviting a few of his friends over at tannyhill since rafe's father and his new wife, rose, are on some far, far away vacation, which rafe couldn't give less of a fuck about, preferring to have tannyhill all to himself besides his little sisters, but he doesn't bother with them as much as he used to once he was in a serious relationship with you.

rafe even promised you that he would stop antagonizing the pogues, but only if they disrespect me first, he'd said in return, rather sulkily and reluctant, but he wanted to be a good boyfriend for you and he knew you didn't like violence of any kind.

once 4/20 finally came, you were already high as a cloud come noon, one of rafe's arms wrapped snuggly around your shoulders, tannyhill buzzing with a few people, but rafe doesn't really care about them right now, especially now with the way you're being all sweet and whiny for rafe's attention, acting all submissive and needy and breedable for your daddy—which, of course, rafe didn't mind at all, he liked you like this the most, so sweetly obedient and paying all of your attention on him and only him.

"yeah, princess? y'need somethin', hm?" he breathes teasingly into your ear, watching as your pouty, glossy lips (that tasted like cotton candy) smacked together noisily, making rafe smirk and his head was already quickly processing that you most likely needed a new refreshment.

without a care in the world about who was watching him and his girl, with you already in his lap comfortably, like the princess he always claims you are, sitting prettily and smiling dreamily, doe-like eyes heavy and red, long eyelashes fluttering slowly like a kitten, both freshly done and fluffy and making you appear like a perfect little doll, hanging all over your man as his big hands fondle your asscheeks under your pretty, little babydoll pink miniskirt that was covered with a layer of pretty white lace—my angel, rafe had complimented you earlier, making you all shy and bashful, like you usually were around your boyfriend.

"a'ight, baby… lemme − lemme go get you another water, and then we'll spark up again, yea?" rafe murmurs against your ear, his breath hot and smelling mostly of the overly intoxicating fragrance of the weed you'd all been taking turns taking hits from, mostly from fat blunts and the occasional little joint for the past few hours.

instantly, you breathily mewl in protest and hold onto your boyfriend tighter, arms wrapping around his neck, clinging to him like a little girl that clings to their father.

softly, rafe breathes a light, amused little chuckle, used to your neediness, but knowing you're being extra clingy right now due to the drug and the tiny, few sips of those fruity, alcoholic seltzers that taste like the sweetest thing you can imagine, something that rafe wrinkles his nose at every time he watches you drink them, but pretends to like them for your sake, though he prefers something… stronger.

usually, if it wasn't a special occasion, rafe would bring you to an empty bedroom in whichever house-party he usually brings you along to, with you hanging tightly (and anxiously) onto your boyfriend's arm, letting him lead you upstairs with a large, possessive hand on your lower back, practically resting on your plump, perky little ass, guiding you to some random room to make out for a bit.

and then, after rafe gets bored of just messily making out with you, he fucks your brains out until you're all 'babied brained'—as rafe has occasionally called it, though was actually subspace, but rafe wasn't that thoroughly educated, and again, didn't give a fuck about searching up what it meant when he fucks his girlfriend senseless and within an inch of her life.

of course, rafe could search it up, but it didn't truly interest him and he thought it was just normal, and besides, he already knew you enjoyed being coddled by him and doted on by him after sex, so he figured he didn't need to worry too much—plus, even if he didn't want to admit it, it was a win-win situation for the kook prince, with rafe needing to always hold onto some part of you, especially after being intimate together.

and again, rafe didn't mind your clinginess, practically relishing in it, his ego growing more and more the more he realized how codependent you were becoming on him.

back in the present, rafe feels you begin pressing glossy, sticky kisses all over the side of his face, leading down to his already marked-up neck, causing him to let out a soft, low grunt of frustration and arousal.

"baby," rafe gently chastises, already knowing your sparkly, clear lipgloss with the light undertone of pastel pink—and yes, you always give rafe a haul of every makeup product you buy, using his money, of course—but again, rafe doesn't mind, enjoying the fact that his obedient little princess was becoming so dependent on him for everything, always needing him for something, and rafe... rafe doesn't care what you need from him, if it's something serious or dumb, he'll be there within minutes.

however, in rafe's mind, it's as long as you remember that rafe is your man and you don't need to be calling anyone else for help—that's what rafe was there for, to take care of you and fuck your pretty little pussy, and someday, perhaps sooner rather than later, rafe will pump a large, scorching load into you, deep inside of your womb… that way, you'll never be able to leave him, rafe thinks.

rafe breathes out a small sigh, his thick, muscular arms still wrapped around you, possessively and obsessively, wanting to keep you as close as possibly—meanwhile, he starts his own sloppy, passionate kisses against your lips, smearing your pretty lipgloss against his own lips, tasting how sweet you are, but once again, rafe doesn't give fuck, and he won't give a fuck when you complain to him that you have to reapply your lipgloss again, even though you do so every five minutes anyways.

"lemme jus' go get you another water, sweetcheeks," rafe coos against your lips, suppressing a smile at your instant pout, but quietly observes as you silently and simply crawl off of his lap, sitting to the side of him on one of the usual balcony outdoor furniture sofa's, it was a wooden wicker sofa with plush, probably thousands of dollars worth of cushions that rafe dragged you along to sit with him, but you didn't care, impatiently waiting for your boyfriend to come back to you.

it barely takes five minutes for rafe to return back to you, but there you sit, scrolling through your phone with a cute, bored pout on your plump lips, a fresh coat of your sugary lipgloss already applied, making your lips look extra kissable.

swiftly, rafe takes his seat back down next to you, opening the fresh water bottle for you, a hand going to your lower back casually, while his free hand guides the water up to your mouth, not even having to say anything, already watching as you perk up a bit and lean forward, taking a few eager sips, giving your boyfriend a grateful smile once he sets the water down beside himself when you finish.

with long, deft fingers, and a gorgeous, shiny golden ring decorating his index finger with the cameron family's symbol, rafe easily pulls out a freshly rolled, thickly stuffed blunt from behind his ear, already pulling out a lighter and swiftly lighting the end of it, curling one of his large, calloused hands around the newly burning tip so the spring breeze wouldn't blow out the cherry of the freshly rolled blunt.

"where'd you get that?" you hum curiously, a dreamy, pretty smile curling across your freshly coated glossy lips, already pressing yourself back into rafe's side, one of his thick, tanned arms thrown over your shoulders, keeping you close against him as he stuffs the lighter into the pair of his typical black nike shorts he'd been wearing since the weather has been warm and beautiful, summer coming quicker than you'd thought.

"rolled this f'us when i went inside to grab you a fresh water," rafe explains nonchalantly, still high off of the weed, but also the few bumps of coke he snorted just minutes ago, grabbing his girl his personal stash of the best quality of weed he had, saving it for you, knowing you were gonna beg him to let you smoke once 4/20 came—and strangely, the longer he'd been around you, and the fact that you two have been dating for a few months, the oldest cameron sibling was growing more and more attached to you as time passed, giving nearly into your every whim, no matter your request.

unless, of course, your request had something to do without him.

"you wanna shotgun this with me, baby?" rafe purrs lazily, taking a long hit of the cherry flavored blunt that was currently between his soft, pink lips, still slightly sticky from your previous kisses.

you let out a small, happy noise of agreement, nodding your head gently as you wrap both of your arms around rafe's non-dominant arm, feeling his muscles rippling every time he moved to be closer to you, his pretty girl.

and then, then you see rafe take another long drag, before casually leaning over you completely, pressing you down slightly against the back of the outdoor sofa, a hand holding the burning blunt between two fingers, while his other, much more dominant hand is now curled around your throat, holding you in place with a firm, but gentle grasp as he easily, and slowly, blows the smoke from his lungs into yours—your long, fluffy mink lashes fluttering prettily as the dizzying smoke fills your lungs and clouds your brain, making you smile another dreamy, happy smile.

meanwhile, before you even have time to respond, rafe is kissing you once more—again, this time more deeply, messily, mouth opened as his tongue sucks and plays with yours, humming in content after a long moment once he pulls back, an amused smirk on his kiss-swollen lips, similar to your own swollen lips, your lips smeared with your lipgloss once again, but you don't really care this time.

"this some good shit—huh, baby?"

504 notes · View notes

lovebugism · 8 months

Note

vacation, cocktails, stevie in the tiniest shorts… I mean 😮‍💨

thanks for your request lovey!! — the one where steve takes you to the beach, but him in his bathing suit is the real view (established relationship, smut 18+, 2k)

bug's summer fic fest ♡

“My eyes are up here, sweetheart,” Steve jokes as he passes you a cocktail. It’s a red, yellow, and blue colored drink with an orange slice wedged into the top of it. It’s about as tropical as a beachside bar can get.

The rainbow colors match his color-blocked swim trunks, though the fabric is far more muted in hue. They make his tanned skin look that much more golden. You can’t figure out which shade is most his color, though, no matter how hard you ogle.

Steve spent a better part of the day smiling with delight every time he caught you staring. He’d been a bit scared to wear the shorts, in truth. They were far too long to be considered a speedo but revealed more of his thighs than normal trunks did. Then he saw how much you loved them and never wanted to take them off.

“Sorry,” you murmur as you take the blended drink from him. “It’s just… It’s staring me right in the face, babe.”

“Shut up,” Steve huffs out a laugh, descending on the lounge seat next to yours.

You’ve been on vacation for four days now, playing house in his parents’ beachside condo. He wears the bliss of holiday all over him, tanned skin glittering beneath a golden hour sun. He’s almost constantly shirtless because it’s so damn hot out — which has done nothing but give you ample time to leer at his toned torso, dusted with marred scars beneath sprinkles of chestnut hair.

But it’s his thighs that get you. Those goddamn perfect thighs you want to take a bite out of and ride all at once.

No one should look so good in such a tiny pair of shorts. You think it should be a crime, really. And the worst part about all of it is Steve has virtually no idea what he’s doing to you.

He just sits there next to you and laughs at your ogling — like there's anything remotely funny about the heart palpitations he’s giving you just from looking so damn good.

“I’m so glad I got you those shorts,” you confess, mostly to yourself, before sipping at the bendy straw in your cup. The fruity slush cools your warm skin almost instantly.

“Yeah,” Steve hums with a lopsided smile. His rosy lips match the sunburn on his cheekbones. “They fit like a glove, don’t they?”

You know he’s saying that just to tease you, but you nod anyway. “Yes, they do,” you singsong quietly, chewing at the end of your straw and getting lost in your leering.

It makes Steve chuckle to himself. “Alright, babe. Keep it in your pants.”

“I’d love to get into your pants, actually.”

“You’re in rare form today, aren’t you?” Steve wonders through his laughter.

Being beachside looked good on you — being away from Hawkins looked good on you. It’s the first time he’s seen you relax in a while. Like, really relax. No monsters to hunt, no children to run after, no parents to impress. It’s just you and him and an orange sun.

And also a bar that serves alcohol that tastes like juice that you’re currently downing like it’s nothing.

“I’m tipsy and in love,” you shrug. “Sue me.”

Steve smacks his lips against his teeth. “Nah. I’m tipsy and in love, too, so… I guess I can’t really blame you…”

His admission of love makes you smile. You’ve surely heard it a million times now, but your chest sparkles like it’s the very first.

You grow suddenly soft. “Thanks for bringing me here, Stevie…”

His sheepish grin matches your own. “Thanks for coming with me, baby.”

He reaches a hand out towards you — which you take without thinking twice.

His long fingers are warm as they engulf your own. Your arms sway in the inches of space separating the two of you, knuckles gently brushing the white sand beneath you. And even though you’re touching him, you can’t help but crave more.

“You’re so far away,” you observe with a slight pout furrowing your brows.

Steve scoffs a gentle laugh. “I’m literally holding your hand.”

“Yeah, but like…” You trail off as you try to find the words to say — how to say them without sounding pathetic. Your nose scrunches softly with your admission. “I need you…”

“Need me?” he wonders with pinched brows.

He’s concerned at first, because he’s always concerned at first.

He’s been on the defense since 1984. It’s practically in his nature, at this point. It takes him a second to realize you don’t actually need help — that you’re not in Hawkins anymore, and there’s no reason to look over his shoulder.

His honey eyes go wide in realization a moment later. His pink mouth falls softly agape. “Oh. Like, need me, need me?”

You hum with a distant, tipsy smile.

“Need you, need you, need you,” you repeat thrice for effect.

Despite his similar desire that blooms like a flower in his chest, he urges, “Finish your drink first, ‘kay?”

Your pout returns. “Why?”

“‘Cause it was expensive as shit, and I don’t want it going to waste,” he explains with a chuckle.

You nod in return. “Yes, sir…”

Your mouth curls around the straw again. A smile quirks your lips as you watch the boy next to you squirm in his seat — your words having a rather obvious effect on him.

You swallow down the strawberry slush, now turning into a sour lemon, and blink away a brain freeze.

“You okay over there, Stevie?” you tease.

He nods with jutted-out lips. “Mm-hmm. Yep. Perfect.”

—————

One Tropical Rainbow Paradise cocktail later, and Steve’s leading you to his cabana.

It’s more private than a normal one. Far more lavish, too. It’s like a tiny studio apartment — made of three walls and a thick curtain in place of a door. There’s a television hung below the ceiling, a small bed pushed up against the wood, and a clawfoot tub idling on the other side.

You figure you’ll have ample time to ride Steve in the bath later.

Your mouth waters for a taste of him now.

It’s why you fall to your knees no more than a second after you’ve latched the curtain shut.

Steve’s eyes go wide as he watches you. He nearly stumbles backward onto the mattress behind him because the very sight of you makes his legs buckle.

“Whoa, babe— Let me put a pillow under you first—”

“I don’t care about that,” you dismiss with the shake of your head. Your fingers curl around the hem of his trunks as you blink up at him. “Just take your clothes off.”

He nods, rapid and visibly enthusiastic.

You don’t pull his shorts all the way down, just enough to free his half-hard cock. You slip the band beneath his heavy balls and wrap his dick in your hand, wetting your palm with your tongue first to ease the friction.

You work him slowly with your wrist and lick the pearly bead of precum from his flushed tip like it’s muscle memory to you. The rough pad of your tongue flicking over the most sensitive part of him drives him wild. A groan rumbles in his chest, muffled through his clenched jaw and teeth.

“Fuck— These trunks are really doing it for you, huh?” he teases after his fleeting senses return to him.

You blink up at him, only halfway amused. “Be careful, Stevie. I don't know if you noticed, but I have your dick in my hand.”

A crooked grin pulls at his pink lips. “Yeah… Go ahead and put your mouth on it, sweetheart,” he instructs lowly. “Maybe I’ll let you ride it after— shit.”

Your lips wrap fully around his reddening tip.

His breath catches in his throat when you lick over him like a lollipop. Your tongue dips over his drooling slit. The salty tang of him makes you moan under your breath.

Your lips abandon his cock soon after. You keep jerking him with your fist while you bring your mouth to his balls. You know he likes that best. He’s more sensitive there than most men are and spurned on by the sight of it even more so.

The sounds of your suckling and the vision of you nuzzling against his length has his orgasm creeping up his spine.

Your mouth widens as your tongue trails up the thick vein at the underside of his cock, leading all the way to his flushed, bulbous tip.

“Oh, fuck, baby,” Steve sighs, right before a whine spills from his throat. His palms are wide and warm as they settle over your temples, his fingers crawling into your hair.

He doesn’t guide you at all — you know what he likes better than he does, really. He doesn’t pull you closer to him, either. He just holds you. He uses you like an anchor when his impending orgasm threatens to pull his head underwater.

“Oh, fuck, baby,” he repeats, this time in a more firm groan. His cock jerks faintly in your mouth while he babbles. “Gonna make me come like this… So good for me, baby. Your pretty mouth is always so good for me. Just a little bit more…”

You know what he needs. He blinks, and suddenly his cock is stuffed down your throat. Both of you are barely breathing by then, equally spurned on by his rapidly approaching orgasm.

“Oh, shit, babe— fuck,” he whines, voice breaking when you swallow around him. He tilts his head to the ceiling and talks himself through his orgasm with gritted teeth. “Yeah. Gag on it— let me feel you, baby… Fuck, yes... 'S gonna make me come so hard. You’re gonna swallow it for me, yeah? Take everything I give you?”

With his cock stuffing your throat, you show him better than you can tell him.

His cock spits several warm loads within your waiting throat. You swallow it all down without complaint — not because it tastes good exactly, but because you love having a mouthful of him.

His golden thighs tremble under your hands as your nails rake gently over his skin.

A blissful sigh trembles in his flushed chest when you pull back from him. Even though your jaw aches and your throat is sore, you find it in you to smile as you drag your finger over the dribbles of cum at the corner of your mouth.

Steve swears he almost comes again when you lick the remnants of his pearly load off the pad of your thumb.

“What do ya say?” you find it in you to tease despite your current predicament. You’re still kneeling in front of him, blinking up at him with heavy watering eyes, saliva glistening on your chin. “Did I earn my seat, Stevie?”

Swallowing through a tight throat, he nods until the words catch up to him. “Yeah. Definitely, yeah. Fuck.”

The bed creaks under his weight when he lies in the center of it. Now fully naked, his tanned skin contrasts heavily with the all-white sheets beneath him. His honey hair is wild as he leans against the fluffy pillows.

He beckons you to him with a wave of his hands.

“C’mere,” he tells you, pink tongue darting out to wet his swollen lips a second later.

You untie your bikini in record time. You rise on the mattress and swing your knee over his hip. Your glistening pussy rests just over his stomach, pretty enough to taste.

“Uh-uh,” Steve hums with the shake of his head, waving his hands again. “Come here.”

Your brows pinch. “What do you mean?”

“Closer,” he commands.

Still a bit confused, you shift further up his waist — only a few inches, though, because you’re not entirely sure what he’s asking of you.

You don’t fully understand until his wide hands curl around the backs of your thighs. He urges you up his torso himself, forcing you to grip the headboard before you topple over completely.

He shifts lower on the mattress until your knees are over his shoulders. His strong arms wrap around your thighs to pull you over his face, all but suffocating himself with your pussy.

His scruffy jaw scratches softly at your inner thighs — a stark contrast with the way his soft mouth suckles at your weeping cunt.

You’re practically gushing over his face the second his lips wrap around your clit.

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #stranger things x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #st drabbles #stevie drabble #bug's summer fic fest!

1K notes · View notes

rileyslibrary · 8 months

Text

The Log Cabin: Hurt

Synopsis: You and Ghost are on your way towards your shared vacation in Scotland.

Relationship: Simon “Ghost” Riley x GN!Reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Notes:

This is the second part of the story. Here’s Part 1 if you’re interested.

Hurt/comfort.

Render by @gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot.

No warnings. Lots of emotions towards the end, though.

———————————————————————

“You sure?” You ask as you approach a red light.

Ghost closes his eyes and leans back in his seat. He lets out a long and loud sigh behind his mask.

“This is the fifth time you’ve asked if I’m sure,” he protests. “Ask me again, and I will throw you out of the bloody car.”

He won’t do it. He used the exact same threat when you voiced your concerns the third time. You understand him, though; you’re not even on the highway yet, and you’ve been bugging him with your insecurities.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper and lower your head to the water bottle you’ve secured between your thighs.

He turns to look at you, then shifts his focus back to the road as the traffic light turns orange.

“I don’t do charity work when it comes to vacations,” he reassures you and changes gears. “I’m absolutely certain of my decision.”

You drive through the city streets, trying to reach the highway. You look out the car’s window; there are curious glances directed at you from the outside. People look alarmed, old ladies clutch their purses tighter, and fathers hold their children closer.

You can’t blame them; they’re looking at two masked figures in a car filled with tools and gear in the backseats.

“We look like we’re about to rob a bank, don’t you think?” You ask, concerned, as you observe a woman ushering her son into a store upon spotting you.

“Don’t take it off yet,” he warns you. “Wait till we get to the highway.”

He’s right. His face is unknown in the city, whereas yours is, and any identification could link him to you. That’s why he handed you a plain black balaclava before you left the base, ensuring your mutual anonymity. It’s a small city, after all.

“What if we get stopped by the police?” you ask. “Someone might have alerted them.”

He shakes his head. “Unlikely,” he replies. “The police is familiar with me and my car. Many soldiers keep their identities concealed due to the base. Civilians aren’t accustomed to it, that’s all.”

He stops at a zebra crossing and motions with his hand at the people waiting, giving them permission to cross the road.

“Look at them,” he whispers as he watches them successfully reaching the other side of the pavement. “So eager to display their faces, like they’ve never done anything sinister in their lives.”

You look at him from the corner of your eye, wondering if his words hide a twinge of guilt or envy—a yearning for freedom, just like those civilians crossing the street. They are free to walk as they please, while he is doomed to wear a cloth on his face until he’s away from anything human.

You tug at your mask. “It’s getting quite stuffy in here; mind if I...” you say and motion towards the car’s A/C controls.

He shrugs. That’s your “go ahead” sign.

You enter the highway, and he removes his mask. He reaches into the back pocket of his seat and tugs his balaclava there. He scratches his left cheek.

You follow his lead but tuck yours into your door’s side pocket. Now that your mouth is free from obstructions, you can drink water. You open the bottle and drive it into your mouth.

“Easy with the water,” Ghost advises. “We won’t find any stops for the next three hours.”

“Three hours?!” You ask.

He nods, his eyes still fixed on the road, indifferent to your shocked reaction. He reaches into the side pocket of his door and pulls a pair of sunglasses out. He secures them on his face.

“I have never seen you with sunglasses before.” You comment.

He smirks. He looks very handsome when he does that. Not conventionally attractive, though. He has a very rugged, almost weird, to point out beauty. Like those second-hand objects you find in an antique shop; they are bizarre to look at, but you can’t shift your eyes away from them. You want to study and analyse them as closely as possible.

You stare at his profile and notice him looking back at you. He still has that smirk on his face. You divert your attention back to the road.

“Sorry.” You murmur.

He looks ahead and his smile widens.

After some time, you reach your first stop; a service station with a convenience store, and fast food joint. Ghost asks if you want to grab a bite, and you shake your head. In response, he motions towards the side of the gas station.

“Loo’s over there. I’ll refuel the car.”

You hurry to the restroom; the last thing you want is to hinder his program. You better be as fast and efficient as possible.

When you return, Ghost is already in the driver’s seat. You settle into your seat beside him, apologising for your delay. He clicks his tongue.

“You went to the restroom; no need to fret.” He says as he hands you a few snacks he bought from the convenience store.

“For me?” you ask, surprised.

“For you,” he confirms and starts up the engine. “So you don’t start whining that you’re hungry when we are in the middle of nowhere.”

The rest of the trip is beautiful. The landscape shifts profoundly, from the mundane colours of the city to the towering trees that grow denser, with hues of green more vibrant than any photo could capture. The radio plays some mainstream pop music, which doesn’t suit the scenery but makes everything less awkward between you.

Occasionally, you spot a flock of sheep and comment. Ghost doesn’t respond but shifts his gaze from the road to where you’re pointing so he can give you his full attention. He smiles every time, and you wonder whether he’s genuinely happy or just trying to act friendly. Then again, when did Ghost ever try to act friendly? He’s enjoying it as well.

You must have reached the outskirts of civilisation now since the radio has started to make white noise. He switches it off.

Silence. Awkward silence.

“Sorry.” He says, which is very ironic since he was the one who lectured you a few hours ago to stop apologising for things you can’t control. “I don’t have any CDs.”

An arrogant chuckle escapes you. You didn’t mean to come across that way, but there’s no need for CDs; although the car isn’t new, it has built-in Bluetooth. You wonder if he knows it.

“Do you mind?” You ask, showing him your phone.

He looks at it, raising an eyebrow from behind his sunglasses. He must be thinking you’re asking for permission to call someone.

You connect your phone to the car’s Bluetooth and launch Spotify. Music starts playing again. His attention alternates between the radio and your phone.

“Why don’t you look at that!” He remarks. “I knew you could do that; I just never bothered to figure out how.”

“I’ll show you later.” You reply.

“Do you take requests?”

You nod and smile. “What’s your poison, Lieutenant?”

“Johnny Cash.” He replies. “Hurt.”

You nod again, search for the song and press play. You try to enjoy the scenery, focusing on the trees and farms passing by, but Simon’s choice of song wraps around you.

“I hurt myself today

To see if I still feel

I focus on the pain

The only thing that’s real.”

You turn to look at him. He holds the wheel with one hand, his other resting on the car’s window. He leans against it, his face propped on his hand.

“And you could have it all

My empire of dirt

I will let you down

I will make you hurt.”

You want to comment on the song, but your throat feels tight like something’s choking you. You swallow hard.

“What have I become?

My sweetest friend

Everyone I know goes away

In the end.”

Tears fill your eyes, threatening to escape. You don’t have sunglasses like Ghost does. It’s a matter of time until he notices.

“If I could start again

A million miles away

I would keep myself

I would find a way.”

It’s sadness, melancholy—that's what you’re feeling. But is it for Ghost and his poor song choice? Or is it for you?

For your family, your friends, and the vacation you won’t get to enjoy with them? Who are you mourning exactly? He seems to be at peace with his choices. When will this bliss come to you?

Will it ever come to you?

“Hey,” he calls out, and you turn to look at him.

Too late; he already noticed.

“It’s okay,” he soothes you. “Let it out.”

As if you wanted his permission, you begin to cry uncontrollably. You gasp for air. Ghost presses a button on his door which forces your window to open slightly. The crisp air slaps your face, but you focus on the pain, just like the song says. Your nails bite into your palms as you squeeze your fists, and that water bottle falls from your legs onto the car’s floor.

Ghost reaches over, turning the volume higher as if he’s permitting you to cry as much as you want and scream as loud as you please. You turn your head to the side, looking through blurred vision at the colours of green blending together.

He clasps your fist in his hand. You refuse to relax it.

“It’s okay.” He repeats as you pass the blue sign marked with a white ‘X’ that welcomes you to Scotland. “It’s going to be okay.”

Your first unclenches and you open your hand.

———————————————————————

Part 3 (final) this way ->

2K notes · View notes

bibbityboppitybillyharvgrove · 1 month

Text

All Thanks to You - T.Nott

Summary - At first, Theo found her gifts sweet and kind but the longer they went on the more they annoyed him. He had the false assumption that she was chasing after his money and status but he was very wrong. He didn't realize how wrong he was until he overhears her sticking up for him in library.

Pairings - Theo Nott x Fem!Reader

Warnings - Use of Y/N, female reader, profanity, stress

Author's Note - I'm getting through all of my requests slowly but surely, this will probably be my first and last post of the day. I'll try my best to keep banging these out but unfortunately today was my last day of spring break and my vacation from work. Thank you for being patient!

Based off the request by an anon

Expect delays in my posting! My semester has started and I am taking 4 classes! Please be patient with me!

My requests are open!

my masterlist

Feedback is welcomed and encouraged!

Enjoy!

It was almost disgustingly obvious how much she liked Theo, except to the boy himself. It had taken him ages to figure it all out. He thought it was weird at first, he was always getting baked treats, a seat saved, books that he ended up loving and notes sent to him. Then, it started to annoy him, he thought that she was just trying to get to him because of his status and money. That of course wasn’t her intention but he didn’t figure that one out until he overheard a conversation, one revolving around him and all of his flaws and untrue rumors.

He was about to jump in himself until the sweet voice of the girl sending him all of these good things chimed in.

“That’s not true at all. Theo is so kind and sweet. He cares so much about his friends and only acts cold to people like you because you believe and spread all of these bullshit lies. He’s not rude, he’s not unnerving, he especially isn’t ugly or gross to girls. He’s sweet and kind and loving and a great person and if you can’t see that, then don’t consider me your friend anymore,” She ranted before packing up her books and walking away, not expecting to bump into the boy himself. “Oh shit, I’m sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going, I’ll get out of your way.”

“Wait,” He pleaded, having every expectation of her walking away but she stopped in her tracks and turned to face him, “Thank you for sticking up for me. I know I said your gifts were annoying but I don’t really think that. I honestly thought you were after me for money or to boost your status or something, I shouldn’t have assumed that.”

“No, you shouldn’t have. You’re a good person Theo. I’d love to talk more but I really have to go study for the potions exam,” She told him.

“Study with me, I have an O in the class, I can help you.” The smile on her face brightened the room, making his heart skip a beat, a smile finding its way onto his own lips.

“Okay! I know the best spot in the library,” She chirped, grabbing his hand and leading him to the top floor into a quiet corner. The two of them studied together for nearly an hour before she spoke again, “How in the fuck do you make a draught of the living dead again? I can’t remember anything right now, my brain is fried,” She groaned, resting her forehead on crossed arms.

“You need a break, love. Let’s go to the kitchen and get some food from the house elves,” Theo offered.

“Won’t we get in trouble?”

“No, I’m friends with the prefects on duty, let’s go before they change shifts.”

The whole way down to the kitchen, the two were holding hands, neither of them had even noticed until Draco stopped them in the stairwell leading down to their destination. “What do we have here? The infamous Theodore Nott holding hands with his admirer?”

“Oh shove off, we need you to cover the kitchen while we get food,” Theo told his friend, still holding onto her hand even though they were caught.

“What’s in it for me?” Draco asked.

Before Theo could open his mouth, Y/N answered, “Pumpkin pasties, green apples and cauldron cakes. I see you eating those a lot so I assume you like them?”

“You assume correctly, fine, let’s go lovebirds.”

Holding up her end of the promise, she got Draco his favorite sweets, snacking with the two Slytherin boys. The blond boy had taken a liking to her, finding her genuine, funny and observational. The bond between Theo and Y/N had grown and only got stronger by the day. It was no surprise to any of their friends when they started dating not long after studying together.

They continued to have study dates until the day of the Potions exam. She was extremely nervous and Theo was nervous for her. They didn’t get to see each other until dinner that day. Taking her usual spot next to Theo at the Slytherin table, casually sliding a paper to him. He furrowed his eyebrows before opening the paper, the red ink stared him right in the face.

“You got an O?! Bellissima, that's amazing! I’m so proud of you!” Theo exclaimed as he hugged her tightly, placing kisses on her head.

“All thanks to you, handsome,” She smiled at him.

Theo kissed her deeply on her lips causing groans and gags around them. Neither of them having a care in the world other than her O.

#harry potter #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x you #theo nott x reader #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott x reader #theo nott x fem!reader #theo nott x y/n #theo nott #theo nott x you #theodore nott x fem!reader #theodore nott #request

404 notes · View notes

hyewka · 4 months

Note

Okay okay!

Imagine walking in on long time bestfriend Kai using a pussy pocket on himself! Like...he's whimpering and moaning, edging himself and bullying his pretty dick with it.

And reader is like standing there not knowing what to do in a situation like this except feel the heat pool between her legs until Kai loudly chants reader's name while he's cumming...moaning and whining as he drains himself of everything he's got.

(+ he has such a sweet, reddened face, all sweaty and breathy but his arms are all veiny, wrapped around his huge cock!!....???!!)

From your new freaky deeky anon that loves you so much!!

- 🩰

warnings. assumed kai stole mc’s panties, perv!kai, pocket pussy, sub!kai, childhood best friends, not proofread i got a little excited over this ask lol

when your parents decided to take up the chance of renting a summer vacation home with kai’s family tagging along, practically tight knit family friends because of you and kai’s inseparability since childhood, you agreed in a heartbeat. though you basically see hueningkai enough as it is, you haven’t seen his parents and sisters in forever.

it’s all cheerful and relaxing, getting pulled into a tight, all too familiar hug by kai’s mom when they finally arrive a few hours after you guys settled in, on about how much she missed you and playfully scolding you for not catching up with her that often. “any boyfriend yet?” she teases with a tilt to her voice.

you groan, cheeks hurting with the smile permanent on your face. “not yet aunty, still single.”

“but you’re such a pretty young lady!” Her flattery always has you feeling giddy because you know she means it every time. “stop it” you mutter, carrying her bag for her.

“you know he’s available right?” she gestures towards kai who was unloading the suitcases from the trunk. you unintentionally hone in the bead of sweat that drips down his face, the sun blazing hot shining on him. damn. you snap out of it when she speaks up again. “when you guys get married, i’m owed a thousand.”

you chuckle when he snaps his head to you guys as if his ears are trained to pick up on a conversation that had to do with marriage when it comes out of his mother’s mouth. this is such a typical interaction, always reminding you that you and kai might as well just get married already with like, five kids—you’re almost unfazed. “mom, stop!” he whines, the tips of his ears red.

“hey, this is a girl’s conversation you’re not allowed to join in.” she shoos and you almost double over in laughter at his facial expression as he immediately drops it, going in the house dragging two suitcases loaded with a duffel bag. he always pouts whenever he’s frustrated and its the funniest thing ever.

“he’s such a baby, jesus.” she sighs. “but he’s lovable.” it comes from a motherly place, but it still feels almost like she’s giving you a nudging.

he’s lovable.

but you know that. he is your best friend after all. So you laugh it off.

#######################

you feel like such a pervert. you’ve been standing here for an entire five minutes without a single movement of a muscle. but between the two of you, who was the nastier one?

the one peeking through the already halfway opened door coincidentally or the one having a pair of lace underwear pressed under their nose…while deliriously jacking off. well, okay, you’re kind of at fault for being glued to your spot and not just shutting the door for his privacy but jesus christ. kai was using an entire sex toy in a house full of family? you know the walls were pretty sound proof but your paranoia would dispel any reason for you to act on any sexual urges, so jesus christ.

was he that horny? well he looked it seeing that his legs were entirely spread on his bed. and were those his girlfriend’s panties? but his mom said he was available? so whose-

you’re scared shitless when you notice kai’s clouded, glazed over eyes firmly on you, no longer shut—your hand on the door knob shake. but once again you’re frozen in place, no matter how much your brain tells you to move, you can’t and even crazier, he doesn’t stop even when theres a flash of panic in his features getting rid of the panties pressed to his nose, no—in fact his hand almost blurs as he slides the pocket pussy up and down on his glistening cock. god, his cock. it’s pretty. holy shit it’s pretty. like every part of him, somehow he manages to make an organ that resembles a fucking overcooked hotdog look good. you feel your throat dry, because even more than it not standing weird or bending in directions, it was fucking huge.

you jolt a little when you hear creaking of stairs, immedietely entering inside hueningkai’s room and shutting the door behind you in panic. you lock it.

“fuck.” you breathe. you think you might’ve lost your mind. you really do. because in normal circumstances you would probably unintentionally cockblock him, or at least say something. anything. but you’re fucking enamored at the way his brows furrow, the way he hisses low curses, his broad chest unrhythmic as it falls up and down, heaving.

you’ve always had a hint of his size the few times you’ve caught what you assumed to be accidental boners, but you didn’t know it was this big. It’s almost intimidating. and it has you rubbing your thighs pathetically.

the squelching sounds of the terribly gracious amount of lube and what you assume to be his precum barely does the job of drowning out his pathetic mewls and whining.

all color drains from your face when he calls out to you. it almost felt like you were watching a camboy for a second there. “Y/N, fuck-fuck fuck, are you-” he chokes, the sweat making his face practically glow under the dim light of his room. “do you like this?” he pants, eyes wet and big—the most vulnerable you’ve seen them.

you find yourself dumbly nodding, like you were under some sort of spell, unable to get out words as his moan strains with a final breath, bucking his hip up with the pocket pussy firmly pressed down in his entire length. It looks straight out of a porno the way his mouth falls open, your name out of his lips sinfully once again as he tenses, orgasming.

your instinct is to immediately go to cover his mouth, because for a moment there, he was too goddamn loud! but, god was that a mistake. Because you get a closer look of the drenched panties peeking from under him and your breath hitches.

then your eyes slowly trail back to kai’s that were just completely fucked out. the sheets being covered with dried semen has you guessing that hes been going at it for hours.

was that why his texts to you to shut the bathroom lights were so weirdly full of misspellings? did he…leave the door open on purpose?

his whimper against your palm sends jolts, and your eyes widen at seeing he had his hand on his cock again, pain etched on his eyes, clearly from the overstimulation but he tugs until its growing hard in his hand again, all while holding his eyes on your face. you gulp.

this was going to be a long week.

###################

note. i love childhood best friends sub!kai like theres somethinggg about him

#txt smut #hueningkai smut #sub!idol #txt hard hours #yeonjun smut #🌷. rana thoughts #✶ ━━ rana ; answered #🩰 anon

983 notes · View notes

lvscoups · 1 year

Text

just friends ; choi seungcheol x reader

summary choi seungcheol's been your best friend since elementary school, and now you're both eighteen, about to leave for university. the last thing that you want is to go to university as a virgin, so he offers to take your virginity. surely this won't make either of you question your feelings for each other, right? wc 5k tags slow burn, childhood best friends to lovers (somewhat), barb seungcheol, underage drinking/smoking, pwp, virgin!reader, loss of virginity, afab!reader, 18+ MINORS DNI

eighteen. what an age- when you were thirteen, you thought that by now you’d have a hot, popular boyfriend, have gone to hundreds of parties, have a huge friend group who would all go to the mall and travel together, and maybe even have a scholarship to harvard. but you started university in three months and you had nothing to show for it. it would keep you up at night, all the dreams you had when you were younger, and how few came true. you only had a couple of friends, a shitty job at a convenience store, and the last party you’d gone to was for your niece’s 8th birthday. what weighed on your mind the most, though, was that you still didn’t have a boyfriend- and you were still a virgin. university was your last shot to really live out those dreams, to go to parties, hook up with strangers, go clubbing.. but, god, the last thing you wanted was to lose your virginity to some random person you’d meet at a house party. but high school was over, and, really, what relationship could you establish with a man in a couple of months that would make him someone you’d want to lose your virginity to?

“seungcheol’s here for you!” your mom yelled from the kitchen. you came running to the front door with a smile on your face- he’s back from his vacation, fucking finally. “so we’re going to the beach?” you asked as soon as you saw him. “yeah, i think miles and his girl are coming, rosie is bringing some people too.” he smiled. “are you ready or are you gonna make me wait an hour again?” “the latter, i didn’t think you’d be coming so early.” he follows you to your room, sitting on the side of your bed as you pack. oh, choi seungcheol. your best friend since… sixth grade? you’ve watched him come and go through different relationships- he was someone you envied, living the guy version of the life you wanted for yourself. out of the handful of house parties you’d been to, he’d dragged you to almost all of them. you didn’t know what you’d do without him, he was always there for you, the one who introduced you to almost all of your friends, who would help you cheat on tests. without him, you’d be regretting your high school experience even more. “let’s go?” you pull your duffel bag over your shoulder, looking at him. “finally,”

he was one of the only people you knew who had his own car- his father got it for him for his seventeenth birthday. it wasn’t the best, but it was really nice. you were pretty sure it was a ford or something similar because it had one of those big open trunks people use to put wood and furniture in. no idea why he needed one of those, because he was always showing off how he was strong enough to carry anything by himself, but it was still cool. the two of you would put pillows and blankets in it and lay down, talking and drinking together, listening to music on your cheap bluetooth speaker. you got into his car, leaving your duffle bag at your feet, setting up your playlist and the aux while he started up the car. “i can’t believe you didn’t take me with you to the bahamas, you bitch.” you joked. “luggage costs are crazy, i already spend so much money on you,” he teased back. “it’s an hour drive to the beach, by the way.” “no problem,” after your playlist started up, the two of you drove in silence, partially. there was some small talk about the bahamas and a lot of you singing along to nicki minaj, who seungcheol always managed to sneak into the queue. “me and kim broke up,” seungcheol said during a particularly quiet song, his eyes still on the road. “and you didn’t tell me?” you replied, looking over at him with a shocked expression on your face. “yeah, i dunno. it just didn’t…” he trailed off. “it wasn’t a big deal to me.” “i liked her! remember when she gave you all those leftover cookies from… was it her church’s bake sale?” “yeah, i guess.” he stared off. “she was nice, i dunno why it didn’t affect me.” “god, remember when you broke up with sierra? that was fucking crazy.” you turned back, looking at the road, too. “sorry. why’d you…?” “it was her.” “shit, sorry.” “no, no, it’s fine, really. i lost interest and stopped talking to her as much and we called about it and decided to break it off.” “just like that?” “well not just like that. it wasn’t like i stopped talking to her all of a sudden.” he turned to you, smiling. “use your brain, dumbass.” “school is over, i don’t need to do that anymore.” you laughed. “but really, that’s crazy. i’m glad it’s not… bad, but, like, you two dated for a while.” “i wouldn’t say three months is that long,” he replied. “at least i’ll have a hot boy summer, or something. ewww, sorry. that was so bad.” “it was. but you’re right, have fun! emma’s single now, too. maybe you two can get together.” “i think i’m fine. i don’t know if i even want a girlfriend right now. maybe i’ll meet some hot twenty year old at uni. who knows.” he paused. “is emma really single?”

he turned onto a more bumpy, dirt road, and soon the sounds of the waves and music came closer and closer until the beach came into view. “parking’s gonna be a fucking nightmare.” he sighed, looking at the hundreds of cars parked throughout the parking lot. you picked up your phone, unplugging the aux cord to call rosie. “where is everybody?” you asked, putting the phone on speaker. “we’re near the playground and this barbeque thing. leia, where are we?” you could hear some people talking in the background. “leia’s sending a photo to you right now. bye!” “bye,” you hung up. “here, there’s a photo of the map… we’re at the entrance, right? we need to take a left until we see a washroom. can we stop at the washroom? i really need to pee.” “okay, be quick, though.”

after another half hour, you finally parked. “what did we bring?” you asked seungcheol as you both stepped out of the car. “just drinks and our swim stuff. don’t worry, just go ahead- i’ll carry everything.” you took your duffle bag and trudged through the sand- your cheap dollar store flip flops felt like they would break at any moment during the long journey, your heels burning every time they would touch even a bit of sand. “hey!” you called out, waving to everybody once you finally found them. “y/n!!” rosie replied, getting up and running to hug you, making you both fall on the ground. “ow, shit!” you exclaimed, getting up and laughing off the burning pain of the sand hitting your back. “sorry we took so long- cheol is on his way with everything. parking was crazy.” “can’t relate, we’ve all been here since six,” leia laughed. “miles and the other guys are in the water, we were gonna get lunch soon if you wanna come, though.” “i dunno, i think i might just settle in first. get comfy.” “totally fair, we can wait for you.” leia looked over to the water, where you could make out a bunch of guys swimming and splashing each other with water. “i don’t think the guys are getting out anytime soon, so don’t worry at all.” “thanks,” and then you heard seungcheol’s voice- well, his whine. “the sand…” he groaned, trudging towards you. when he finally reached you, he dropped the blue cooler and other bags down on the ground. “shit! that was torture…” “your fault for not asking for help.” you said, opening one of the bags and taking out a beach towel, laying it on the ground. “come on, sit down. tell the girls the news!” “what news?” rosie asked excitedly. “yeah what- oh,” seungcheol said. “it’s really not a big deal, y/n. me and kim broke up, that’s all.” “WHAT?” leia shouted. “tell me everything!” you got comfortable, sitting cross-legged under an umbrella while you listened to seungcheol recount everything.

“can someone help me with my sunscreen?” you asked. “rosie?” you turned onto your back and wiggled your shoulders. “no, you perv!” she laughed. you pouted jokingly before seungcheol approached you. “you can’t do anything by yourself, huh?” he teased, taking the bottle of sunscreen and opening it, putting some on your back and rubbing it in. “nevermind, seungcheol’s definitely the perv,” rosie replied. he laughed, and you closed your eyes, your head resting in your hands as you let the sun warm your body, waiting for seungcheol to finish. after a while, he hit your back gently a couple of times. “you’re welcome.” “thanks?” you replied, getting up. “let’s swim?” you asked the rest of the group. rosie and leia got up, taking off their sandals and flip-flops, agreeing immediately. “i’ll watch everybody’s stuff, since nobody else will.” seungcheol replied, sighing and crossing his arms dramatically. “thank you!!” you all called out to him as you ran off to the water.

the sun had set, and the air had gotten cooler. it was dark outside as you all laid together on the beach towels, the big, blue cooler seungcheol had brought now half empty. of course, seungcheol hadn’t drank a thing, despite his seemingly endless whining about just how bad he wanted to drink, how jealous he was of everyone who was drinking, how he wished you could drive.. it just went on and on. you hadn’t drunk, either, in forced solidarity with him. neither had miles’ girlfriend, bea, who was everyone else’s designated driver. you and seungcheol were lying down together, both wide awake from the chocolate starbucks doubleshot you’d shared an hour before. you both stared up at the sky. “it’s, like, two months until you leave.” seungcheol remarked. “a little less, right?” “yeah, but same thing. i can’t process it.” “i wish you’d been accepted. we could have gone together, rent a studio apartment. it’d look so cool. you’d have one side and it’d be, like, red or something, and mine would be… i dunno. it’d be cool.” “we should. maybe i’ll go online and move with you.” “that’d be so cool.” “i can’t imagine what it’ll be like without you.” “you can still call me. it’s not like i’m dying, stupid.” “yeah, but… you know.” “yeah,” silence. you shifted your attention somewhat to the conversation the rest of the people were having- something about how prom went, but you couldn’t really focus on it. “i’m leaving high school as a virgin.” you said, breaking the silence. “oh my god, you are. holy shit, that’s hilarious.” he started laughing. “i have no idea what i’m gonna do.” “what do you mean? you’re not gonna be the forty-year-old virgin or something. you’ll just lose your virginity to some college guy.” “i don’t really want that.” “don’t you wanna have fun in college? you mentioned that a lot.” “yeah, duh. but i don’t wanna lose my virginity to some random man.” “too late for you to not do that. you shoulda tried to get a boyfriend before high school ended.” “ugh, you don’t get it.” “what don’t i get?” “i dunno. this is weird.” more silence, but from the corner of your eye you saw him nod.

“what did you mean, about all of that stuff you were talking about earlier?” he asked on your way to the car. “what stuff?” “me not getting you wanting to lose your virginity or something. or not wanting to lose your virginity.” “oh.” you paused. “like, i dunno. i kinda wish i had a boyfriend or something. like i had had more of a life in high school. and now i have to just settle for losing my virginity to some guy i’ll probably never talk to again.” “isn’t that what you want?” “no, that’s what you don’t get. like i wanna have fun and, like, hook up with people or whatever. but i don’t wanna lose my virginity to a random person. that’s different.” “yeah, i get that.” “but, like, in a month and a half, you can’t really get a boyfriend. even if i did, i don’t wanna lose my virginity to someone i’ve known for less than two months.” “yeah.” you got in the car and waited as he started the engine. in the meantime, you set up the aux again. after a while, he broke the silence. “i can do it.” he said. “what?” “i’ll do it. if you want me to,” he added. “there’s so many weirdos out there. if they find out you’re a virgin they might, like, take advantage of you or something. we can do it, get it over with, you know?” you paused. it wasn’t a comfortable silence. “sorry. i don’t wanna overstep a boundary or anything.” he added, again. “no, no you didn’t. well you did but not in a weird way or anything. it’s just…” “yeah, i get it. i’m sorry.” “no, no, no. seriously, you’re fine. i’m not opposed to that idea or anything.” “yeah?” “yeah.. i mean, it’s better than what you said- losing my virginity to a weirdo or something.” “so then…?” “it’ll be weird, but let’s do it. i might change my mind but for now, let’s do it. yeah.”

you’d never thought of seungcheol in that way. maybe in your darkest, most desperate hours, but that was it. it wasn’t like you didn’t take notice to how huge his biceps were, or his fucking crazy jawline, or how perfectly everything on his face complimented each other, but.. you did that platonically. it would just be weird to do that. but now that the two of you had agreed to have sex together, you assumed nothing could be weirder than that. so you tried to will yourself to like him, or that’s what you told yourself. it wasn’t gonna be an enjoyable first time if you didn’t at least have some attraction to him, you thought. so you’d find yourself thinking about him a lot. at night, your mind would wander to his hands, his arms, and sometimes your fingers would brush against your clothed pussy, playing with it, imagining it was him. of course, it was all a part of your effort to have your ideal first time, at least, as ideal as it could be, considering it was with your best friend and not your imaginary boyfriend, and after high school had ended. you assumed sex was better when you were attracted to the person it was with, so it only made sense to create some attraction to him.

“have you ever.. thought about what you wanted?” the two of you were relaxing in the back of his car, where he’d put up pillows and blankets again. you’d brought some chips, and the two of you were drinking and eating, talking about whatever. “like, sexually?” you replied. “i guess. i mean for your first time.” “i don’t know. something romantic, in a bed, at night. i don’t wanna eat food first- i think that’s kinda gross. kissing someone after eating? ew..” “is that really it?” “yeah, i guess. i don’t really mind the rest.” “okay, okay.” he nodded. “i don’t wanna ask too many questions, it’s just… i wanna make sure that it’s special.” you blushed. “thank you,”

you’d arranged a date- the twelfth of august. you were leaving by the twentieth, so it seemed like a good time. it was the last day of july when you made the decision, and you found time flying by. seungcheol came over a lot more than he usually did, which was already a lot- he was your best friend, after all. as the twelfth grew closer and closer, you began to notice smaller things, like the way his eyes would linger on your chest and the flush that would appear on his face when you two were especially close. you pretended like you didn’t see it, the same way you assumed he pretended he didn’t see you looking at his arms a little too long when he crossed them. it was all a part of your shared, unspoken effort to make your first time more enjoyable, of course. the two of you were friends. just friends.

he’d invited you to the birthday party his family was having, but you didn’t feel like intruding on something like that, so instead you went to the party miles was throwing for him that night. bea picked you up in her car- you were nervous about the ride if you were being honest. it was the first time you’d ever driven in her car and you’d heard that she’d had to pay for the entire repair fee for her mom’s car after she got into a car accident. she swore that she’d learned her lesson but you would be lying if you said you weren’t scared out of your mind every time she took a turn. the party was small, with just your friend group and then some other friends, and then friends of friends. you stuck with leia, sitting beside her and listening to her talk about the date she’d gone on the day before. eventually, leia ran off with another guy, and you went to the front porch. two girls were sitting on the front chairs, and you took a cigarette they offered you. you weren’t a smoker, but you didn’t have anything else to do. you recognized the one who offered you the cig as bea’s sister- it was crazy how similar they looked. same hair, same nose, same lips, except she was at least five inches shorter than bea. after a while, seungcheol came out to the porch, too. you began to sing happy birthday to him, and the other girls joined in, too. after clapping, he asked you, “what’s up?” “huh?” “i was looking for you, i haven’t seen you this whole time. where were you?” “oh,” you paused, stubbing out your cigarette on the ashtray in between the two girls. “i was hanging out with leia, then i came here. i didn’t wanna be in your way, it’s your party.” “we’ve been friends six years, come on. you can’t be serious.” he moved away to another corner, out of earshot from the other girls. “come on,” he whispered. you followed him. “you’re friends with everyone else here, too. it’s kinda weird to just stick to your side the whole time. i don’t wanna seem like that kinda person.” “okay, fair, but i don’t think the people here think you’re like that. they all know you.” “okay, okay.” you said, holding his hand. “let’s go back, then.”

it was on the ninth, while you were at his house, eating leftover pizza and watching youtube, when he put his hand on your thigh. he was talking to you about a game he’d started playing, putting his pizza down so he could really tell you about it, and when the conversation drifted off into something else, his hand was still there. you knew if you did anything even slightly implying you were uncomfortable, he’d move it- seungcheol was always looking out for you. you let his hand rest there for a while until he had to get up to grab something. while he was gone, you thought to yourself about it. by the time he was back, you’d made up an excuse for everything- including an excuse for why you gently moved his hand back to the same spot it was before.

august eleventh, he came over. he was sitting on your floor, head resting against your bed, which you were lying down on. “you’re sure about tomorrow?” he asked. looking up at you. “yeah. why wouldn’t i be?” “i just wanna make sure.” he smiled. “no pressure at all.”

and then it was nine p.m., august twelfth. your parents were conveniently gone for the night, to a family friend’s house to celebrate something or other. you didn’t know and, honestly, you were so nervous that you didn’t really care. he knocked at your door and you nearly fell on your way there. “hi,” “hi.” he leaned against the doorframe slightly, smiling. “you’re sure?” “yeah.” you both made your way to your room, your face hot. “i’m sorry, i have no idea what to do… i thought we could watch a movie or something?” “yeah, of course.” he sat down on your bed. “don’t worry about it, really.” you sat down beside him, grabbing your laptop and opening up netflix. after you settled on a movie to watch, you both got comfortable and you hesitantly rest your head on his shoulder. to say it was awkward would be an understatement. it was petrifying. your palms were sweaty and your heart was racing and this was all before he even touched you. it was an hour into the movie when he put his hand on your thigh again. it was summer, so you were in shorts, which made the sensation all the more incredible, you felt his hand move up slowly until he was toying with the hem of your shorts. “can i take them off?” he whispered in your ear. “yeah,” you put the laptop down on the far edge of your bed, and he slid your shorts off, holding up your legs just slightly. you turned to look at him, and there was his face. maybe it was the adrenaline rush or maybe it was something more, but you closed your eyes and soon found your lips on his. you’d had your first kiss already, but this time it was different. you found yourself melting into the kiss, your hands in his hair his hands cupping your face, before you felt his hands moving and you shifted on top of him. he pulled away. “is this okay?” he asked. “yes,” you whispered, pulling him back into the kiss and letting him put his hands under your shirt. the sensation of his hands on your breasts left you feeling even more horny, grinding down onto his crotch. eventually, you pulled away, standing up on your knees and slowly sliding his jeans off of him. he took the opportunity to gently push you onto your back, getting on top of you. he kissed you one more time before slowly leaving kisses all over your body, moving from your face to behind your ear to your neck, sucking on your breast. “you’re gorgeous,” he whispered, his voice deeper than usual. he moved back to kissing you, and you felt his hands go under your underwear hem. you found yourself moaning into his kisses as he rubbed your clit, then slowly put one finger into you, his palm still on your clit as he inserted another. “you’re… really good,” you moaned, after a little while, he took his fingers out, and you still found your walls closing around nothing, “is it okay if i put it in?” he asked, his voice still low and husky. “mhm,” you looked up at him. maybe you were caught up in the moment, maybe it was the moonlight peeking from the sheer curtains on your bedroom window, or maybe it was something else entirely, something that wouldn’t go away when the sun came back up, but just the sight of him in the darkness, his long black hair just slightly obscuring his face as he looked up at you through his long lashes, made your eyes almost water. at that moment, all that you could think about was how lucky you were, how grateful you were to be in this situation, and how happy you were. “are you okay?” he breathed, snapping you back to reality. his brows furrowed, the lust in his eyes being replaced with concern. “y-yeah, i’m great.” you smiled, looking up at him. “just making sure.” he reached into the pockets of his now discarded pants, closing your laptop before grabbing a condom out of the pocket, opening the packaging, and putting it on. he held your hand as he positioned himself in between your legs, slowly sliding into you. “let me know if you’re uncomfortable.” he whispered. you closed your eyes, and the stretch of your walls hurt at first- but soon the pain turned into pleasure, the most pleasure you'd ever experienced.

you moaned as you leaned up to kiss him, using your free hand to bring him closer to you. he shifted a bit, suddenly thrusting into you at the perfect angle and leaving you a mess, moaning his name and when you weren’t, you could hear him moaning yours. it was such an intimate moment and the way he was fucking you was so perfect that you found yourself forgetting that he was your best friend. you were whispering praises to him, telling him how good he was and how big his cock was and all these things you would never have expected you’d be saying to choi seungcheol, but here you were. his thrusts got more sloppy and his kisses became more messy and passionate and you knew he was about to come. soon, you did too, and the sensation left your head blank. you felt him pull out of you and lay down beside you. “you want me to run you a bath?” he asked. “yeah,” you looked over at him. “thank you, cheol. that was…” “amazing? life-changing?” he joked. “mhm,” you kissed him. “i’m really glad we did that.” “yeah. come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”

he left after making sure you were all good, kissing you one more time before going. you didn’t think much of anything that night, but when you woke up your mind was racing- that was after you were able to confirm that the night you just had wasn’t a dream. you assumed seungcheol’s mind was racing, too, because aside from sending you some tiktoks and occasionally talking to you about something or other, it was radio silence from him. you were torn about it- on one hand, you were massively grateful. you knew it’d be awkward to talk to him after everything. but on the other hand, you were almost hurt. it was definitely irrational, and you knew that, but you almost felt like he didn’t talk to you because he didn’t like you after the two of you had sex or, worse, he had just been using you. then he called you, three days after everything. “hello?” “hey,” he said. “sorry for not talking to you for a while.” “yeah,” “i needed some time to think about things. it’s not like you did anything wrong though. i still need time, i’m calling to tell you that this has nothing to do with you,” he paused. “really, you were incredible, and that was one of the best moments of my life. and i don’t want to stop talking to you. i just need some time to myself for a bit.” “thank you,” you blushed. “but… yeah, that’s fine. don’t worry about it. but don’t take all the time you need. i leave in, like, five days.” you laughed, though there wasn’t anything funny. “yeah,” he replied, his voice somewhat… sad? you couldn’t really pinpoint what it was. “you gotta promise me that we’ll hang out at least once before then, ‘kay?” “okay,” he paused. “i gotta go, though.” “bye,” “see you,” he said before hanging up.

the phone call left you frustrated for the next few days, which only worsened how sad you felt to be leaving your home and your town. rosie and leia were constantly coming over, but, as much as you loved them, it wasn't the same as hanging out with seungcheol.

you'd been invited to leia's house on the nineteenth, to watch a movie or something. she drove you there, suspiciously giddy with excitement, and once you arrived at her house, you realized there was something more going on. she opened the door for you, and instead of being greeted by her parents and nobody else, you were greeted by a whole crowd of people. somehow, leia and rosie had managed to gather everybody for a surprise going-away party- even your cousin was there. you made your way through the crowd, talking to everybody, so happy from seeing all these people you loved and had spent your teenage years with that you forgot about everything with seungcheol entirely. in fact, you forgot about everything with him throughout most of the night. but then you found him, sitting alone and playing some game on his phone, and he looked up and saw you, and you immediately knew something was up. "can i talk to you?"

he took you to a bedroom and closed the door behind you. "i wanted to tell you something." he said. the two of you sat side by side on the edge of the bed. "i know it's really late to tell you this, but i figured because you're leaving tomorrow this is… my last chance to tell you." he paused. "i don't think it was just because of that night and i don't want you to think that, either. it's also not because of kim, even though the timing would make you think that… i was really thinking about this, and i think… i don't know how to say this, but…" you looked at him and he looked at you and suddenly it all clicked in your head. every little thing you made some stupid excuse for, like how you could only think about him when you touched yourself, or how you couldn't pull your eyes away from his crazy huge arms, or how your heart fluttered when you both made eye contact. it all made sense to you know. "i love you too, cheol."

#seventeen smut #seventeen x reader #seungcheol smut #scoups smut #seungcheol x reader #svt smut #mdni #scoups x reader

1K notes · View notes

voidbeomgyu · 9 months

Text

ALONE (Teaser)

In which you meet your bias in the worst circumstances.

PAIRING Idol Jake Sim x Fan Fem Reader

GENRE Zombie Apocalypse, Angst, Slow Burn, Romance/Strangers to Lovers, Suggestive (Maybe smut, not sure yet.), some fluff

WARNINGS 18+ MDNI, Descriptions of violence, death, blood, etc., All members except Jake died so keep that in mind (I'm sorry), Cursing, Crimes, Mental health talk and experiences, Death, Sickness (Throwing up), Making out, Smut(?), It's an apocalypse!au idk how else to warn about that LOL

SUMMARY The group Enhypen get on a plane to the US and when landing are met with the worst. Jake makes it out alive... but alone. Since the dead are attracted to areas where the population is saturated, your best bet is to stay low in the areas usually considered dangerous (alleyways, abandoned buildings, etc). He made his way into the country and found a nice cabin alongside a lake. His further inspection led him to believe it was abandoned for whatever reason, maybe it was a vacation home? Little did he know his inference was correct, and soon he was met face to face with a member of the family who owned it. How would she react to seeing her favorite artist rummaging through the cupboards of her new--hopefully permanent--home? And how would he be able to explain to a loyal fan of his that he was the only member left?

TEASER WORD COUNT 1,625

RELEASE DATE To be determined.

TAGLIST Comment on this post or send an ask to be added. (Have your age on your profile or you will not be tagged)

Endless walking while trying to find a suitable place to stay was slowly driving Jake insane. The exhaustion from travelling, fear of death, and anguish from the scene at the airport was weighing down on him heavier and heavier every second. Having watched his best friends, his brothers, his family all being taken away from him without being able to do anything but listen to the oldest’s words, “Run”.

Jake had not yet cried, there was no time for it. It’s been almost thirty six hours since then, he’d stolen a bike around a mile away from the airport. It’s helped him a lot on his journey to safety. He never stole, he wasn’t like that, not that type of person. But in the moment he didn’t have the time nor energy to feel guilty about it.

Jake didn’t know exactly what he was looking for, but he wanted quiet. Not knowing wether or not it’ll be safer in the city or the country side, he chose the latter. Cities are crowded with people, meaning they must be crowded with the dead by now, right? No matter; either way he knew he’d feel much better being in the middle of nowhere, or at least in the middle of what looked like nowhere. All alone in an abandoned farm house, maybe a lake house, any house on the country side would do. He was being too optimistic, he knew, but he couldn’t help it. Finding a safe home to live in alone with no one around for miles sounded comforting.

The Jake from two days ago would’ve shivered at the thought of being completely alone. Though no extrovert, he needed people. He needed that connection, that interaction. His reasons to smile and laugh were mostly based around the people around him or the entertainment he consumed. Entertainment was out of the question now, and it seemed like people were too. Most dead, and others probably too violent to give Jake a chance due to the circumstances.

All he held on him was his and Sunghoon’s carry-on bag from the flight. Note to self, don’t try to save your friend by holding onto their bag. Thoughts like this crossed his mind every few minutes, tragedies sentenced as jokes but he wasn’t laughing. What’s wrong with me? How could I think something like that? Maybe it was the dehydration, starvation, overall fatigue? He hadn’t eaten anything since the flight and was savoring the small amount of water he had on him. Either way, thinking of his beloved friends didn’t do much to help his mood. Trying to think of the good times? Those good times will never happen again, they’re gone forever and I’ll never get them back.

More days passed like this. With a stop at a gas station probably being the reason he’s even alive right now. It was abandoned, for the most part. It was the early morning, and he was literally starving now. The cashier was still there, but his neck was chained so tightly to the wall that it was on the edge of ripping his head clean off. Oh, he was a living corpse too. Jake could tell that much by just looking at him, muffled grunts and groans coming from the pale body every minute. Luckily, he didn’t seem to care much of Jake’s criminal activities there. Stuffing whatever foods and drinks he could into the bags he had on him. They were even heavier now, but he couldn’t feel anything. He was numb to all feeling, mentally and physically.

At day four he had started keeping track of how many days passed with a calendar he found on the wall of the gas station that morning. He didn’t stay there though, he didn’t have it in him to kill the cashier, and he knew that if he somehow got loose while he was sleeping it would all be over. The past few days he hadn’t slept or rested much at all actually. Napping for at most an hour at a time, waking up to the slightest noises and scurries of nearby wildlife. He knows he’s incredibly lucky to not have encountered any of the dead, besides the one at the gas station, but it’s a little stressful to not have seen any either. Where could they all be? He had made it out of the city, the once bustling streets on day two, he knew many people weren’t out here to begin with. But knowing there are creatures that could kill him in seconds lurking while having no idea where they are was terrifying.

It’s been six days. His legs started feeling numb just hours after finding his bike due to the frantic pedaling, now he felt like his legs were asleep all the time. The feeling of pins and needles covered his lower body as they worked on auto pilot to keep him going. His back felt horrible, slouched from his broken spirit. Endless cramping and soreness of his hands and fingers from gripping the bikes handles for hours at a time. His knuckles were white, and now so was his once tanned and alive skin.

His lack of proper meals, sleep, and rest was now obvious. Jake hasn’t seen himself since that day in the airport, but from looking at his now thinner, paler, vein visible arms, he could take a guess at what his face looked like. Hell, he could feel the bags under his eyes whenever he blinked now.

It’s been quiet and empty for a few miles. Nothing but grass, and a dirt trail he’s been following in sight. How long is this damn trail? he thought. Jake started following the trail at the sunset of day five; he remembers because of his calendar. It was coming to the end of day six, the sun starting to set in the distance behind him. He found a flashlight at the gas station and used it to find himself a place to “rest” for the nights he faced, it neared the time to find a spot to sleep.

Trees were all around him now, the area looked more alive here, not dried out and dead like the miles before. He must be getting close to some sort of building, forest trails usually have a building as a starting point, right? Unless this trail wasn’t made for hikers, in that case he was hoping in vain.

It was almost completely dark now. Jake had usually found somewhere to stay by this time, but something was telling him to keep going. Using the flashlight to illuminate the shadowed forest, he heard his friends voices cheering him on over and over again.

“Keep going Jake!”

“Just a little longer!”

“You’ll be okay!”

Tears were unconsciously streaming down his face now, though he still didn’t feel anything. His body just gave up on the effort of keeping them in.

Jake pedaled faster. He couldn’t hear anything but his heavy panting, it felt like someone had covered his ears with their hands and muted the sound of everything around him. He saw something in the distance, the roof of a building; he padaled faster. A house, the roof made of wood, looked like a cabin; he padaled faster. He could hear the muffled sound of streaming water; he pedaled faster.

Face to face with a cabin, going so fast he couldn’t stop himself from crashing into the wet grass below him. Still struck with adrenaline, he pulled himself up quickly and dragged his bike to the front door. His broken and unused voice sounded through his pants as he tried frantically to open the damned door.

The door handle had a key hole but was locked with a rusty padlock. He could turn the handle and wriggle the door, that padlock was what he needed to remove. He pulled a hammer out of his bag; he grabbed it from the gas station floor, it was covered in dried blood. Obviously used by someone prior to leaving it there. Jake slammed the hammer into the padlock, over and over again. The loud bangs from striking the lock were null to Jake’s ears, his desperation coating over all his sense.

Smash. The padlocks body is broken away from its handle and the door is free from it’s hold on the wooden frame.

Jake shoves his way inside, throwing the bike onto the hard floor of the entry way before turning to lock the door. It was locked from the outside but had a perfectly working lock on the inside, though he didn’t care to question it. He made it, he was safe, he felt like he could faint.

He had no time to think, let alone find a good source of light before he threw up. Keeling on the once clean floor, liquid from his stomach poured out from him. His throat burned and ached at the feeling, like his throat was made of sandpaper. Falling back he sat on the floor, staring at the door and the mess he made on the ground. He laid back and let his eyes rest for the first time in nineteen hours. Jake fell asleep there on the hard floor, knee propped up on the backside of a couch.

If he was thinking clearly, he would’ve checked the entire cabin, then scavenged for any foods that may be there. But he was broken, body and mind. Luck had been on his side since the beginning though. The home was completely vacant before he entered, and when he wakes up he’ll have found himself a place to live in safely. Away from the corpses living in the surrounding cities, and away from any still living people, all alone.

(A/N: Hello friends! I'm finally writing LOL I've had this wip since December and I'm finally going to finish it. This post is just to see if people would even be interested lol. The total fic word count I don't know yet because I haven't finished it, but I am close! I won't give y'all any hints but I will apologize in advance for the angst I'm about to put y'all thru<3 sorry love you guys muah. Don't know exactly when I will publish the full fic, maybe right when I finish it, maybe a month after I finish it IDK I haven't written seriously in months so I'm not too confident anymore but I am excited. Hope y'all are as excited as I am :D )

744 notes · View notes

schoopsahoy · 1 year

Text

the wrong side of the tracks

steve harrington x fem!reader {18.8k} you and steve had never seen eye to eye, to put it lightly. but when you have to work together at family video, you start to realise you might not hate him as much as you once thought. enemies to lovers, no use of y/n. 18+ mdni

You could pinpoint the exact moment that your personal vendetta against Steve Harrington had started. Not that it was hard to remember. You’d just moved to Hawkins, back to your parents home town and away from the warm air of the West Coast, forced to face Hawkins middle school before you’d even got your bearings of the trailer park you’d shacked up in.

It was your second day there, maybe your third. (Maybe your memory wasn’t that great, but the specific day didn’t matter). You were sat alone in the cafeteria picking at the sad meal in front of you, your head down in an attempt to ignore the lunchtime chaos around you.

“You’re new here, right?” A voice pulled your head up away from your tray as a group of kids joined you at your lonely table. You didn’t really know people’s names yet, you definitely recognised them though. Seen them around the yard, an air of importance around them that was only ever found in schools.

You’d kept your lips pressed shut, a small nod the only response you were willing to give. You could tell where this was going by the grins and the giggles and already had no interest in entertaining it.

“‘Course she is, what a stupid question.” One of the girls snipped back to the boy who’d asked the question, elbow digging into his side.

“Heard you live in the trailer park. Moved all this way just to live in a tin can.” The comment earned a laugh from the rest of the group, all far too amused by the snide comment.

You could feel your skin heating up, some sort of mix of shame and anger and anxiety, and you begged your body to not let your skin flush and give away your emotions.

“It’s rough out there. Must suck, being born on the wrong side of the tracks.” The same boy continued on his attack, clearly made up with himself and the responses he was getting from his friends.

You just stared at him for a moment, eyes blank and brows furrowed, letting the laughs around you trail off in anticipation of your response.

But you didn’t give one, instead picking up your backpack up off the floor and getting up to walk away from the table. Your barely touched food left behind as you stormed out of the canteen and those same cruel giggles followed you even with the distance put between you and the group.

And that was it. A dislike started before you even knew their names. Not that you stayed oblivious to who they were, after a few weeks you had settled in enough to put names to faces. Which meant you could confidently say you wanted absolutely nothing to do with Steve Harrington.

—

You need a job. Well, another job. Your hours at the diner have dropped over summer since people are busy vacationing and generally getting themselves out of Hawkin’s, which leaves you with little leftover each week to put in your savings pot - that coincidentally exists with the aim of getting yourself out of Hawkin’s too.

You do, however, find yourself questioning how much you need another job when you turn up to your Family Video interview only to be greeted by Steve Harrington.

Robin had told you about the job opening, and sure you know they work together. Robin has long since dealt with your disbelief at their friendship, your comments a little less frequent now but you still respond to any mention of him with a groan and overly dramatic eye roll.

But she’d assured you, absolutely promised hand-on-heart, that she would be there when you come in for your interview. But as you stand in the doorway, bathed in the red glow of the fluorescent light, you lock eye contact with Steve and realise that you really should know better by now than to trust Robin to know her schedule.

“Oh for fucks sake.” You grumble, brows pinched together a little as you step up to the counter, the boy behind it watching your annoyance with a smug smile.

“Now that’s no way to get a job.” His tone is condescending, and if you had even an ounce less of self control you think you’d be tempted to smack the grin right off his face. It wouldn’t be the first time, but these things are a bit more acceptable in middle school.

“My bad, Harrington, didn’t realise you owned the store.” You feign shock, hands raised to your side as you gaze around at the shelves stacked with tapes.

“I can’t believe Robin told you to apply.” He scoffs, arms folding across his chest.

“Don’t be stupid, we were friends before you were.” It’s childish, stupid bickering that you really should be above by now. And you are, with anyone else. But not with Steve.

“Oh, real mature.” He draws out his vowels as he rolls his eyes at you, every little movement further lighting that angry fire in your chest. “She can have other friends, better friends.”

It takes everything in you to not take his bait, every nerve in your body pulsing with frustration and rage and you have to take a deep breath in to keep yourself at least somewhat calm.

“You’re a real piece of work, Harrington.” You exhale your words out, eyes closed as you shake your head at him. “Where’s Keith?” You never thought you’d see the day where Keith was the better option in terms of company.

“In the back.” He juts his head in the direction of the office door at the side of the store. “Better hurry up, you’re late.” He taps his fingers against his watch, and you realise that thanks to your petty arguing you’re now late to your interview.

You flip him off as you walk towards the office, feet striding quickly across the store. You can’t believe Steve Harrington was still ruining your life, even after graduation. Maybe you’re being dramatic, but you think your dramatics are allowed given the circumstances. If there was anyone you allowed yourself to be a little bit childish over, it was him.

Turns out it’s pretty easy to secure a job at Family Video if you’re a pretty girl who can hold a semi-decent conversation, the interview pretty much consists of Keith scanning over your CV, asking the usual boring questions of why do you want this job? and what would you bring to the store? and after a whopping ten minutes you’re walking out the office with your new FV vest in hand.

You wave it at Steve as you walk out, a smirk on your lips as he glares at you. “See you next week, Harrington.” You sing, not stopping to hear whatever smart response you’re sure he has cooking up and head back out into the parking lot.

—

You’ve worked four shifts at Family Video now, and three of those you got lucky and only had to work with Robin. But today luck isn’t on your side, it’s just you and Steve alone all day. It’s pretty easy work, but with easy also comes boring, and with that comes plenty of time for Steve to try and rile you up.

You’ve spent the past hour trying to put away the ever growing pile of returns, sat cross-legged on the floor as you slot each tape into its rightful place on the shelf.

Except every time you seem to make progress, Steve comes along to move the tapes around, feigning interest in each one before he puts it back somewhere it doesn’t belong.

“Oh now this, this is meant to be good.” Steve picks up Back to The Future, waving the tape at you as he studies the case in fake intrigue.

“Everyone’s seen Back to The Future, Harrington. It’s not some hidden gem.” You huff as you shuffle on the carpeted floor, legs going numb and the rough fabric leaving indents into your bare calves from where they’re pressing into the ground.

“Hm, yeah, maybe.” He puts it back, in the completely wrong spot, before picking up another video case with the same false fascination. “What about this? Y’seen this?” He holds the copy of The Breakfast Club directly in front of your face, your hand quickly swatting it out of the way.

The impact of your knuckles on the plastic stings and you quickly pull your hand away, blowing on the skin to attempt to sooth it. “Yeah, I’ve seen it.” Your voice is blunt, unimpressed at his antics. “D’you not have work to do? Instead of, you know, disrupting mine?”

“What? I’m trying to help.” He acts shocked at your annoyance, bottom lip jutted out in a puppy dog pout as you let out a dramatic sigh.

“You’re a fuckin’ headache, you know that?” You pinch the skin between your eyes, at the point of exasperation with him and his determination to ruin your day.

“C’mon, why don’t you want my company?” His voice is thick with sarcasm, his arms crossed over his chest as he peers down at you on the carpet. It makes you feel small, enough to have you standing up to lessen the height difference between you - though you still have to crane your neck to stare at his face.

“I will never want your company, Harrington.” You narrow your eyes, huffing a little as you pick up the box of returned tapes and make your way to start on another shelf as far away from him as you can get.

But of course, he follows you. This time hanging back so he can lean against the counter and watch as you go on your tiptoes to place the tapes on the top shelf.

“They’re gonna fall.” He nods towards to tapes teetering on the edge of the shelf, and you know he’s probably right, but you’re not going to admit that.

“Whatever.” You grumble, continuing on with your stacking and trying your hardest to block out the boy's presence behind you.

“Look at them, they’re wobbling, if they fall on you you’re gonna get a concussion.”

“Can’t be worse than this.” Your voice is sickly sweet and entirely fake, and you turn to flash him your best sarcastic smile.

You turn back to carry on organising the shelf, maybe being a little too rough with how you’re shoving the tapes on there, lips twisted up into a frown as you feel Steve’s eyes watching your every move.

“You need to-“ Steve steps up behind you, his words halted as a hand goes above you to catch a tape before it can come tumbling down off the top shelf and most likely fall directly onto the top of your head “- chill out.” He pushes the tape back onto the shelf, now positioned safely there away from the edge.

Your body feels tense with how close he is, chest practically pressing into your back as he crowds over you, you think this must be what fight or flight feels like. All the nerves in your body on high alert, chest thumping and skin suddenly feeling too warm even with the AC pumping through the store.

“Whatever.” You repeat, but your words seem to hold a little less bite now. Steve seems to notice, a shallow chuckle coming from behind you before he finally moves away and settles behind the desk.

You find yourself letting out a deep breath you didn’t even know you were holding, shaking your head to yourself before carrying on with your work as best you can whilst ignoring his presence.

You’ve told Eddie to pick you up when you finish at 5, the promise of a takeout and 4 pack of his choice enough to bribe him into being your chauffeur for the night. You already planned to buy those things anyway, but if it got you a ride home too then who are you to complain.

He’s usually late, nearly always in fact, so you take your time getting your belongings from the staff room. Vest tucked back into your bag, hair pulled out of the knot you’d tied it in to keep it out of your face as you work.

The rest of your shift with Steve had been spent in awkward silence. He’d stopped bothering you after he’d stopped the tape from tumbling down onto you, instead busying himself with other tasks which conveniently kept him at a distance from you. If you did ever have to cross paths with each other there’d be an awkward shuffle past one another or a detour taken around one of the shelves. You weren’t complaining, you’d take uncomfortable tension over him actively annoying you any day.

After dawdling for a few minutes in the back, re-tying your laces and fiddling with how your shirt was tucked into your skirt, you push the staff room door open and step back out into the store. When you see Steve standing at the desk talking to Eddie, laughing about something and seemingly getting along, you feel your lips turn into a frown. Surely they weren’t friends? Surely this wasn’t another part of your life Steve Harrington had managed to wiggle his way into.

You stride over, brows pinched as you appear next to Eddie who stops his laughter to look down at you, face a little puzzled at your clearly irritated expression. “Hey kiddo, you good?”

“Don’t call me kiddo.” You huff, the feeling of Steve’s gaze boring into you and you can feel the blood rush to your cheeks with embarrassment. It’s only made worse when he laughs at Eddie’s greeting, and you suddenly feel about 2 feet tall. “Can we go?”

“Yeah, was just waiting for you.” Eddie shrugs, his eyes still studying you as you shuffle your feet on the carpet clearly eager to leave. “I’ll see you around, Harrington.” He gives the other boy a casual salute, nodding to him as he backs towards the door.

“Later, Munson.” Steve nods back, before turning back to you, your knuckles turning white as you grip the strap of your bag tightly and wring the fabric to try and get out some of your frustration. “See ya, kiddo.” His voice is teasing and his smirk doesn’t falter as you scowl at him, eyes narrowed and stare pointed, mumbling something under your breath before you pass Eddie by and storm out.

“Woah, slow down.” Eddie calls after you, door swinging shut behind him as you stride across the parking lot to his van.

“Since when were you two friends?.” You frown, looking a bit too much like an upset child to try and dispute his nickname for you.

Eddie shrugs, looking back to the video store and then to you. “He’s not so bad, the kids love him.”

“He’s a dick.”

“You two just don’t get on, he’s chilled out since he graduated.” Eddie tries to reason with you, the same point you’ve heard a million times before from Robin.

Maybe he has changed, dropped his stupid high school persona and become a nice guy, for everyone but you. But the grudge you both hold for each other runs too deep to be glazed over with his change of heart, too much said (or maybe unsaid, in terms of apologies) for you to truly buy it.

“He thinks he’s so much better than us, y’know? Because he lives in some big house with all that money and we live in the trailer park?” You lean against the van behind you, metal hot against your skin in the evening sun.

“He’s not like that anymore. It’s not even his money, he works the same shitty minimum wage job you do.” Eddie's hands are shoved into his pockets, and you do feel bad for putting him on the spot with all this, but your anger is bubbling up in your stomach and it’s like it’s consuming your every thought.

“Whatever. If you wanna ignore the fact he’s some rich dickhead, be my guest.”

It makes it worse, in a way, that him and Eddie get along. Because Eddie was one of your first friends when you’d moved to Hawkin’s, looking out for you in the trailer park and school in the same way an older brother would. You had the same lifestyle, grew up with the same struggles but for some reason Steve wasn’t giving him grief. Apparently it was just you. You wish it didn’t bother you, wish you could wring the thoughts out of your brain onto the tarmac below.

“C’mon, don’t let it ruin our night, yeah?” Eddie smiles at you, a sympathetic look because he can see how riled up you are. “I’ll even pay for the beer.”

“You can’t bribe me, Munson.” You huff, but the whisper of a smile appears on your lips and Eddie knows that in five minutes all will be forgotten. Once you’re a good distance away from Steve. “I know you don’t have the money for it.”

“Yeah, you’re right. You caught me.” He holds his hands up in faux defeat. “But the thought was there.”

“I appreciate the theoretical generosity.”

Your eyes flick back to Family Video before you climb into the passenger seat of Eddie's van. You don’t know why you do it, torturing yourself with one last reminder of your infuriating co-worker before you close the door and shut the day out of your mind.

—

You should’ve known it was going to rain. Maybe you did, and had chosen to ignore it. The air this morning had that close, sticky heat to it, the kind that comes when the clouds are hanging low in the sky and you can almost smell the deluge that’s just waiting to be spilled.

But the sun had still been high when you’d set off to your shift at the diner this morning, too hot to even consider a jacket and your bag was already full with a change of clothes for your shift at Family Video this afternoon.

You watched the sky open up and douse Hawkin’s in a long needed rainfall from the windows of the diner, eyes darting to the clock because you needed to set off in what, twenty minutes? You found yourself saying a silent prayer to whoever was listening for rain to let up for just long enough for your walk across town.

Unsurprisingly, your prayers went unanswered.

You keep your head down, chin tucked into your chest and eyes focused on the pavement beneath you, as you storm your way downtown. Your bag tucked tightly into your side, as if that will stop the unrelenting downpour from seeping through the canvas and onto your clothes. Your clothes stick to your skin uncomfortably, the fabric of your diner uniform rough and irritating and you really regret selling your car now.

The walk to Family Video was 20 minutes on a good day, but today isn’t a good day and you’re practically jogging as the rain smacks across your face almost painfully so you manage to get there in just under 15. You push the door to the store hard and almost trip over the welcome mat as you bound across the threshold.

Your hair is dripping onto your clothes and into your eyes, eyelashes catching the droplets and blinking them away before they can render you blind, and you’re suddenly aware of the fact you’re probably leaving little puddles of rainwater with each step and Steve is sat at the desk watching you and you genuinely wish the ground would swallow you whole.

“Don’t even fuckin’ start, Harrington.” You hiss as you storm from the door towards the staff room, eyes still focused on your feet because if you make eye contact with him you’re sure the embarrassment and anger will kill you on the spot. You sling your bag onto the floor as soon as your in there, the contents of it soaked only slightly less than the clothes on your back, and you have to blink hard to fight off the sting of tears that threaten to spill.

Because the truth of it all, at the core of all the pettiness and bickering and childish comments, was you felt ashamed. Steve had made you feel ashamed for who you were, where you were from and the way that you lived all those years ago. The fiery anger that came in response was the only way you knew to counter that horrible, achy feeling that sat in the pit of your stomach.

You fumble with the buttons on your shirt, fingers slipping against their plastic as you try to change out of the sodden material. Everything feels so difficult, like you’re having to exert so much energy just to change out of your uniform and you have to remind yourself to just take a deep breath, your hands shaking with the slurry of emotions that are twisting in your gut.

You don’t bother trying to pack your clothes away neatly, deciding they’re a lost cause and just tossing them to the floor next to your bag. There’s no way they’ll dry off before you need to walk home anyway. Your cotton t-shirt clings to you, only slightly less suffocating than the button down you’ve changed out of, and you’re really regretting choosing jeans right now because the damp denim is stiff and unyielding as you try to pull them up your legs.

Everything feels too close, too tight on your skin like your circulation is being cut off everywhere the fabric touches. You pull the bobble off your wrist and scrape your hair up into a ponytail, trying to find some relief from the way it’s sticking to your neck.

You linger by the door for a moment, swaying back and forth a little on your feet as you psych yourself up to walk back into the store. You don’t want to look at your reflection in the mirror, mascara probably smudged onto your cheeks and cheeks flushed to a bright pink, so you take a deep breath and stride out into the fluorescents. They make your eyes squint a little, the bright cold light painful compared to the dullness of the staff room. You walk to the desk, Steve watching you with an eyebrow raised but for once he doesn’t look like he’s going to come at you with some snide comment.

“I need the key.” You hold your hand out, words short as you avoid eye contact. “For the bathroom.”

Steve just nods at you, hands reaching below the counter and pulling out the oversized key ring that identifies the bathroom key.

You mutter a thank you, the words barely audible as you grab the keys off him and hurry towards the employee bathroom. Your hands are still shaky, and the obnoxious key ring only makes it harder for you to get the key into the lock. After a few tries you manage to get the door open, pulling it with such panicked force that it almost makes you trip over your own feet as you tuck yourself away inside.

The hand dryer mounted to the wall is shoddy and barely warm, but you sit yourself on the cold lino floor and wave your hands under the sensors so the weak stream of air can blow over your head. It only lasts about 30 seconds each time, so you have to keep holding your hands above your head to trigger it again in a vain attempt to dry yourself off.

You’re not sure how long you’ve been sitting under the dryer for, losing count of how many times you have to reactivate it as you stare at the tiled wall opposite you. You’re a little zoned out, the loud hum of the machine above you sending you into a bit of a trance, so when the door of the bathroom opens it jolts you back to reality and has your heart beating faster.

“I really don’t wanna hear it right now.” You mumble, not having to even look to know it’s Steve standing in the doorway. You brace yourself for some snide comment, knowing you’re too drained to give anything back.

“Wasn’t gonna say anything.” It’s probably the first time he’s spoken to you without some snark in his voice. You wouldn’t say he sounded warm right now, not by a long shot, but you could probably settle for genuine. “Was just gonna give y’this.” He’s tripping over his words, forcing them out as he holds out a yellow jumper to you from his spot in the door.

You look up at him now, nose scrunched up in confusion as your eyes move between the jumper and him trying to discern any ulterior motive in his expression. But it’s not there, he’s just blinking at you, big brown eyes filled with something close to sympathy. You hesitate at first, clenching and unclenching your hand as you weigh up your decision, eventually reaching out and taking the jumper off him.

“I won’t tell Keith you bunked off for, like, twenty minutes either.” And then he almost smiles, a twitch of his lips that could be put down to a trick of the light. But it’s there, and you catch it, and for once it’s not laced with sarcasm.

You nod in place of a thank you, words caught in your throat because this is probably the first time Steve Harrington has been nice to you and you still don’t know whether to trust it. He leaves you there in the bathroom again, a few more minutes to yourself to try and gather your thoughts before you have to go out there and actually start your shift.

You debate not putting the jumper on, too proud to give Steve the satisfaction of helping you. He’ll probably hold it over your head for however long, until he needs something from you and can bring up the fact you owe him one. But the dampness of your clothes is making you shiver, and you don’t think you can face working an entire shift answering questions from customers about why you’re so damp.

So you bite the bullet, swallow your pride, and pull it over your head. It’s too big for you, swamping your frame and hanging down to your thighs, but it’s soft and warm and dry, and you hate to admit it but it smells great. Some spicy cedar cologne that Steve has obviously doused himself in, the fact you actually like it makes you shudder. It’s almost enough to make you take it off. Not quite though.

You don’t say anything to Steve when you finally step onto the shop floor, heading straight to the desk to see what needs doing. You have to push the sleeves of the jumper up your arms to stop them falling over your hands as you flick through paperwork, not really taking in the words and having to re-read them a couple of times for them to actually register.

It’s amazing how much time you can pass fronting shelves, especially when you’re spending all your energy on blocking out your surroundings. A couple of customers ask you to help them find movies, and you have to blink yourself back to reality so you can actually think about where they’re stocked.

The computer system is clunky and slow and you have to stop yourself huffing as you wait for it to load up the customers details. You don’t mean to be short with anyone, but god you’re ready for the day to just be over. The screen finally lights up and you slide the tape across the counter to the woman in front of you, she gives you a sorry smile - clearly you’ve not fully dried off yet and must look a little worse for wear - before picking the video up and leaving the store.

“You’re gonna scare the customers off if you keep talking to ‘em like that.” Steve’s voice comes from behind you, making you jump as you turn around to face him.

You furrow your brow. “Can you not be a dick for like, one single day?”

You expect some shitty response back, but instead Steve seems to drop the subject.

“Why’d you walk here anyway? Thought you could drive?” He looks down at you, standing in your damp clothes save for his dry jumper, his voice genuinely curious rather than the usual questioning tone you’ve come to expect.

“I can drive, I sold my car.” Your nose is still sniffly from the downpour and it scrunches up with the ticklish feeling, small lines spreading across the bridge.

“Why’d you sell your car?” He’s leaning back against the counter now, hands behind him holding his weight.

“Jeez what is this, twenty questions?” You grumble, pulling the sleeves of Steve’s jumper down over your hands. He just looks at you expectantly, eyebrows raised in place of an answer. “I’m saving up, to move.”

“You gonna get your own place?”

“No, like, move. Away, I wanna go back west.” You shrug, eyes focused on your hands as they twist in the jumpers cuffs.

“Oh, yeah, I forget you’re not actually from Hawkin’s.”

His words almost make you wince, because of course he forgot. There’s no reason for him to remember, not that you moved here from out of state or that he hounded you about it the moment you did.

You let out a dry laugh, a small shake of your head as you keep your eyes away from him. “Yeah, right.”

There’s a weird silence that hangs in the air then, one that’s normally filled by more spatting or sly smirks but instead it just sits there. Heavy and unaddressed, the pair of you stood waiting for something that didn't come. Steve eventually stalks off, busying himself away from you as you hang around by the desk assisting any other customers that come in that evening.

You occasionally make eye contact with one another, each caught glancing from across the store and quick to turn away. The shift is pretty dead, midweek evenings never drawing that much of a crowd, but you manage to make it to the end without having to say anything more to Steve.

It’s still raining when you venture outside after locking up, bag clutched close to your side as you brace yourself for another walk through the torrential conditions.

You debate using your diner shirt as a makeshift hood, but quickly decide against it. It’d probably just piss you off, and you’d end up soaked either way.

You take a deep breath before you step out into the rain, trying to walk as fast as you can across the parking lot but it’s dark out now and you have to squint to stop the rain getting into your eyes and your feet just won’t carry you as quick as you’d like.

“Hey!” Steve calls out after you, still standing under the shelter of the store. You debate ignoring him, ploughing on through the rain and not looking back, but something inside you makes you turn around. “You want a ride?” He nods towards his car.

You stand for a second, processing what he just said. Surely you misheard, because Steve Harrington offering you a ride home must be a sign you’ve lost the plot or the end of the world is actually here.

“Seriously?” Your hand is across your brow, shielding your eyes as you peer back at him.

“Well, yeah.” He acts like he’s stating the obvious. You’d be mad if he wasn’t offering you a lifeline, or at least a dry journey home.

You chew on the inside of your cheek before nodding. “Okay, thanks.” Your voice is barely audible over the sound of the rain hammering against the tarmac, but you start walking back towards Steve’s car so he can assume you’ve taken him up on the offer.

He waits for you to get into the passenger seat before he gets in himself, the noise of the storm outside muffled by the car's metal shell. It smells surprisingly clean inside; not that you didn’t expect it to, or that you’d given it any thought at all. But the air freshener that swung from the mirror had a pine fresh scent and there was a lack of rubbish inside considering the amount of kids he ferries around.

“You still live in Forest Hills?” Steve isn’t looking at you as he turns the key in the ignition, checking his rear view mirror before he pulls out of his parking spot even though the lot is pretty much empty.

“Yep, still there.” You had your bag on your lap, holding it to your chest as if it was some sort of shield, something to hide behind.

The creak of windscreen wipers along with the hum of the radio fills the car, though it’s barely loud enough to make out what songs are actually playing. You wish Steve would turn it up, let the music slice through the silence that sits between you as he drives.

It’s a nice car, sleek and with leather interiors all in tact. It makes you almost glad you don’t still have your car, which would look like a beaten up tin can next to Steve’s. But it would also mean you weren’t having to accept a ride off him, so maybe you shouldn’t write it off so quickly.

“It’s purely selfish, y’know? Me giving you a ride. Just don’t want my jumper to get ruined.” His voice seems to hold less bite than usual.

You’ve been picking at your nail polish, eyes focused on the flaking red paint as a little pile of it collects on top of your bag. You glance at Steve through your lashes when he speaks, eyebrows raised slightly. “Is this you trying to make conversation?”

“No, just wanted to let you know.” Steve doesn’t take his eyes off the road, and you move your attention back to your nails without giving him a response.

That same unsettling silence fills the car again, you debate turning the radio up yourself but decide against it. You think it’d be rude, which is strange because normally that’d only encourage you around Steve.

“Why’d you hate me so much?”

The question makes you stop scratching at your nail polish. Steve’s looking at you when you glance up this time, only for a split second before diverting his eyes back to the windscreen.

“Are you being serious?” You almost laugh, tongue pressed into your cheek to stop yourself saying anymore.

“Yeah, I mean, I know I kinda sucked in school but-“ He pauses, trying to find the right words. “I d’know.” He can’t.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” It almost comes out as a question. Your head tips back to lean against the headrest as you stare up at the car's fabriced ceiling. When Steve doesn’t say anything, just looks at you again as if waiting for you to continue, you press on. “I’d been here less than a week before you and your dickhead friends decided to rip into me for living in the trailer park. Y’all thought it was so funny, couldn’t get enough of the jokes.”

You see Steve press his lips together, out the corner of your eyes. “Pretty sure you gave me shit too.” His voice is quiet, unsure if he really has a leg to stand on.

“Yeah, because I didn’t wanna be a fuckin’ doormat.”

“I mean, I’m not friends with ‘em anymore.” He shrugs, fingers drumming on the steering wheel at a nervous tempo. “Plus, I tried apologising to you and you told me to ‘get fucked, Harrington’.” He mimics your voice, but it doesn’t seem so spiteful this time. It might make you laugh if you didn’t have your guard up so high.

“Look, I’m real glad you’ve done the 12 steps of assholes anonymous or whatever it is that made you sort your shit out.” Steve laughs and you narrow your eyes at him. “What? What now?”

“Assholes anonymous, was pretty funny.” For the second time that day you think you catch him smiling at you.

His comment throws you off a little. “Yeah, well, I’m a pretty funny person I guess.” You sigh, brows pinching as you try to regain your train of thought. “All I’m saying is if you keep being a dick after you apologise, it kinda defeats the object.”

Steve hums, a small nod because you are right. As much as it pains him to admit it. “In my defence, you also kept being a dick.”

He’s right this time. “Guess I’m pretty stubborn, too.” You don’t notice that you’re almost at the trailer park, rolling up towards the Forest Hills sign that’s distorted by the rain through the windscreen. “You can just drop me at the entrance, don’t wanna traumatise you by making you drive through.” You almost sound like you’re joking, a lilt to your voice that Steve’s never heard before.

“Shut up.” He shakes his head, a small huff of a laugh coming from his nose. “It’s still pouring down, looking out for the jumper, remember?”

“Right, course.” You draw your words out, a smile twitching at the corners of your lips. “If you turn left when you go in, then take the second right.”

Steve nods, his car slowing as he turns into the park and follows your directions. You preemptively hold the straps of your bag, like you’re ready to bolt the second the car lulls to a stop. You don’t though, instead fumbling with your seatbelt and shuffling in your seat as you debate on what to say.

“Thanks for the ride.” It feels a bit weak after the conversation you’ve had during the journey. Like you should be coming out with something more profound or resolving. You have no idea what that’d be, though. “I’ll, uh, wash the jumper and bring it to work.”

“No rush,” Steve waves your words off. “Got plenty of others.”

“Right, checks out.” Steve thinks you don’t sound as short as you usually do, you think so too. “See y’around, Harrington.” You nod at him before finally getting out of the car. The smell of petrichor coming from the ground hits you as soon as you step out, the cold air washing over you as you hurry to your door through the rain.

You look back once before you step inside, and you know that Steve hasn’t left yet because you would’ve heard it but it still shocks you a little to see him waiting for you to get inside. He gives you a nod, barely there especially through the rain, but you return the gesture before you push open your door and cross into the warmth of your home.

You hear Steve’s car start up, stood still by your front door in a confused trance about the last ten minutes until your moms voice snaps you out of it.

—

“Since when did you wear glasses?”

You look up from the computer to Steve who’s just walked in for his shift, the glasses in question slipping down your nose bridge as you do. “I d’know, a few years? I normally wear contacts.” You shrug.

Steve stares at your face, eyes scanning over your features and the round metal frames that circle your eyes. You can’t read his expression, his eyes lingering a little too long and making you feel like you’re under a microscope.

“Jeez Harrington, quit gawping.” Your brow furrows and you can’t hold his stare. You hate having to wear your glasses, but you ran out of contacts this morning and had no other option. You can feel your blood rising to your cheeks and hope the pink glow of the neon Family Video logo is disguising the flush.

“Can I try ‘em on?” There’s a playful smirk on his lips, one that makes you only furrow your brow more as you huff out an annoyed noise.

“Get fucked, no way.”

“Oh c’mon sweetheart, just for a minute.” The pet name is laced in fake sweetness but not in the sarcastic way you’re used to, you hate that you don’t hate it.

“No. Way.” You repeat, arms crossed over your chest like a stubborn child.

But Steve doesn’t care for your answer, leaning over the counter and plucking the frames off your face despite the way you swat at his hands and try to move your head away from his grabbing hands. He puts them on, blinking a couple of times as his eyes adjust to your prescription. “What d’you think? Do I look good?”

“No, you look dumb. Now give them back.” You try to lean over the counter and grab them back but Steve quickly steps out of your reach.

“Don’t be cruel.” He pouts at you and you just roll your eyes. “You really are fuckin’ blind though.” He cracks a grin at you and you know he’s not being mean, just trying to poke and prod at you for some other reason.

“Yeah, so give them back.” You round the counter so you’re in front of Steve now, reaching up to try and get your frames back from the boy's face but he sees that coming from a mile off. Before your fingers can even graze the metal he’s pulled them off his face and held them up over his head. That lopsided grin that you’ve seen an awful lot lately spreads across his lips as you sigh in frustration, all dramatics and not much action to back it up.

You’ve got no hope of getting them back as he holds them over his head, even as you’re toe to toe with him and craning up as much as you can. You tug on his arm, fingers curled over his bicep as you try to pull them towards you but his hand braces your waist to try and hold you off and the heat from his palm has you distracted. You can feel each of his fingers pressing against your skin, so hyper aware of each spot he’s touching.

“You can do better than that.” Steve teases, his hand tightening its grip each time you push up on your toes to try and get closer to the frames. It’s childish and stupid and definitely a waste of both of your time but you can feel it in your cheeks.

“Can you two actually do some work instead of flirting?” You’re too caught up in your mission to get your glasses back to notice Keith coming out of the office, stood near the door looking less than impressed at the two of you.

Steve’s mouth drops into a small ‘o’ at the sound, his eyes finally pulling from yours and his hand brought down to his side. “We’re not-“

“I don’t care, do some work.” Keith huffs, pointing between the two of you and fixing you with a firm glare before stalking back into the office.

You take the opportunity to finally grab your frames back, Steve still distracted by the interruption so it’s easy to pull them from his fingers.

“Nice going, Harrington.” You push the frames back onto your face, tone dripping with soft sarcasm and you flash him a small grin before you return to the computer so you can pick up where you left off.

“S’your fault.” He mutters, lingering near the counter and watching as you scroll through the screen looking.

“Do some work.” You don’t look away from the computer, your hand grabbing the sheet that has all the recent returns written on it that need putting away. “Stop causing trouble.”

“You love it.” You can see him grinning out of the corner of your eye, corners of his lips curled up in confidence even when you scoff at his remark.

You wouldn’t go as far to say you love it, not by a long shot, but you definitely don’t mind his antics as much as you used to. The teasing no longer holding that same bitter weight it used to, instead replaced with something softer that chips away at that grudge that sits deep in your stomach. Uncurling it’s way out and leaving the space empty, waiting to be replaced with something else.

—

You’re going to be late. It’s ten minutes past when your shift at Family Video was supposed to finish and twenty minutes before your shift at the diner is due to start, and Steve isn’t here to take you off, and you’re going to be late.

Your bag is already stored under the desk, you didn’t bother putting it in the staff room today because you knew you’d have to leave quickly. But you can’t leave, because Steve’s not here. You might actually kill him.

You drum your pen on the counter, an antsy beat that reflects your current mood because you need to leave and the clock keeps ticking and you’re still here and you suppose this is what you get for putting your strict time schedule in the hands of Steve Harrington.

The second you hear the bell above the door ring and see Steve bundle in looking a little flustered and pink in the cheeks, you grab your bag up from underneath the counter and swing it over your shoulder.

“Hey, sorry, I know I’m late I-“ Steve’s still catching his breath, but you don’t have time to listen to whatever excuse he has.

“No time, gonna be late.” You hurry round the counter, almost tripping over your own feet with how quickly you’re trying to get out of here.

“No, hey, wait a minute.” He reaches out to grab your wrist as you pass, but decides against it at the last second instead hovering his hand over your arm.

You look between his hand and his face, almost amused by how he’s holding it there without actually committing to the act. “What? Make it quick.” You huff.

“Well, I’m having a movie night tonight with, like, everyone. Real big group, lots of us. And some of the group, not naming names because I respect their anonymity-“ His hands are flailing as he rambles on, dramatic and completely avoiding the point of what he’s trying to say.

“Spit it out, Harrington. I needed to be outta here like, 10 minutes ago.” He’s standing between you and the door, and you’re not quite cruel enough to just walk out in the middle of this clearly very challenging monologue.

“Right, sorry.” He nods, brows pinched a little in seriousness. “Some of us, them, wanted to invite you. To movie night. With everyone.” Every time you think he’s done, he keeps on adding to his sentence.

You pull your bottom lip under your teeth, a little taken aback by his offer. Sure, things had been a little calmer between the two of you since he gave you a ride home. Less bite to your words, the occasional smile at something the other said. Nothing crazy though, certainly not enough to expect an invite to his place - even if the invite was technically from an anonymous party.

“I mean, I have work, at the diner.” You glance at the door, eyes darting around everywhere but Steve’s because you’re on the spot and maybe you feel a little flustered with the shock but you’ll be damned if you let him know.

“That’s fine, you can turn up whenever.” He shrugs, hands shoved into his pockets because he wants to fidget and can feel them getting a little clammy from asking you what is really a pretty simple question. He puts it down to the fact he’s not used to being so nice to you, that’s definitely it.

“And it’s at your place?” You know that by asking all these questions you’re only delaying your exit, getting yourself in deeper trouble when you’re inevitably late, but the whole thing is so bizarre you can’t bring yourself to leave.

“Yeah, but it’s not just my thing, it’s the -“

“The group, yeah, got it.” You interrupt. “I guess I’ll see when I finish, how I’m feeling y’know.”

“Yeah, course, no pressure, I’ll let them down easy if you don’t turn up.” He nods, face still serious but there’s a lightness in his voice now, a bit teasing but nothing like it usually is - or used to be, you suppose.

“Anything else?” You start to make a move towards the door, you’re probably going to have to run to work now through the summer heat and blinding sun but somehow you’re less mad than when Steve first turned up.

“No, no, that’s it, you’re free to go.” He holds his hands up and steps back from the door.

“Great, thanks for the permission.” You roll your eyes but there’s a curl to your lips which gives you away, a tiny silent notion that maybe you’re not so mad at him anymore.

“I’ll see you tonight, think of the group.” He calls after you as you head out, and you turn to give him a brief wave of your hand to acknowledge his words. You have to turn away quickly because you can feel a proper grin trying to work its way onto your face and you’re not ready to deal with why it’s there or what that means. It’s easier to just cast your eyes down at the tarmac that’s glowing from the sun and focus on your feet as you put one in front of the other as quickly as you can without breaking into a sweat.

You spend the entirety of your shift debating on if you should go tonight. You try your hardest to focus, you really do, but taking orders and pouring coffee isn’t exactly complicated work and the customers ask the same questions every day so you don’t even need to think about your answers anymore.

You’re standing behind the counter, elbow resting on the cold surface and your head resting in your hand so you can comfortably stare into space. You must look pretty out of it, chewing on your pen and eyes focused loosely on one of the big windows that looks into the diner, because it’s enough for your boss, an older woman called Eileen, to clock you.

Normally you’re a hard worker, chatting up a storm and always busying yourself with something to pass the time but today you’ve been a little clunky, not particularly bad but noticeably distracted. So when she comes to stand beside you, a finger poking into your side that makes you jump and straighten up, you think you’re about to get a scolding. You were also ten minutes late today, through no fault of your own.

“You got somewhere better to be?” She asks, for a moment you panic but once you look at her and see the knowing smile on her face you know you’re not in trouble.

“Sorry, it’s just,” you weigh up what you’re going to say, because you’re still a bit muddled over it all anyway, “a friends having a movie night, and they invited me and I d’know, guess I’m thinkin’ about going if I’m not out of here too late.”

“A friend, huh?” She raises her eyebrows at you, because since you started working here you’ve never been so distracted by a simple invite from a friend.

“Yeah, well, a group of ‘em really.” You put your now chewed up pen back into your apron pocket, swaying on your feet a little as you avoid eye contact with your boss because you don’t like that questioning tone in her voice. She knows you too well for you to try and bluff.

“Tell you what, you get all that cutlery back there polished up and make sure the stations are tidy enough and you can finish early.”

Your nose scrunches at her offer, because she’s not the sort to lie but you’ve never gotten cut early and you’ve barely said anything at all. Maybe you really were out of it today and she just wanted you out of the diner. “Seriously? Like, actually finish and go?”

She laughs, a warm sound followed by a gentle squeeze on your shoulder. “Yeah, kid, get it done and get yourself out of here.”

“I will, holy shit - sorry, I mean thank you.” You blurt out, pressing your lips together to try to fight off the dumb smile that’s really on your face. For no other reason than you’ve got a Friday night off, of course.

“Y’make sure your friend knows that this is a one time thing though, alright?”

The way she says friend and the quirk of her eyebrow has you scurrying away back into the kitchen. “For sure, I will, thank you.” Your voice carries through the pass, and you start to make your way through the mountain of cutlery that’s piled up throughout the shift.

It’s close to 8 o’clock by the time you finish, the sun starting to settle lower in the sky and covered by a haze of clouds. There’s a pink tint to everything outside, a nip in the air that warns of the end of summer though you pay no attention to it. You’d quickly changed out of your uniform back into the same t-shirt and pair of shorts you’d been wearing earlier, clothes being pulled out and shoved into your bag without much care as you hurried yourself out of the diner before your boss could change her mind. Though she did send you off with about half a cherry pie in a to-go box, which she only ever did when she was in a really good mood.

It’s not too far of a walk from Main Street down to Steve’s house, or maybe it is but you’re grateful for the time alone to actually decide on whether to turn up or not. You could easily just go home, take the night off and just relax. Plus, it seemed pretty out there for an invite to suddenly be extended to you. You’ve heard Robin talk about their big movie nights before, although you can’t say you paid much attention to what she said after she mentioned the fact that Steve hosts them.

You have to physically shake your head to yourself, shake off this weird doubt that if you turn up it’s all going to be one big joke that you’re the punchline of. You’re too old for that sort of stuff now, surely.

That cold breeze that you’re so determined to ignore seems to pick up once you start getting more into the suburbs of Hawkin’s, your bare arms and legs nipped at by the first signs of autumn. You know you have Steve’s jumper in your bag, the plan had been to give it to him before you left your shift at Family Video but his late arrival had meant it completely slipped your mind. But you can’t turn up to his house in his jumper, can you? You’ve barely buried the hatchet, the figurative soil still fresh. But you are cold, and it’s that or your shitty work vest which holds about as much warmth as tissue paper, so maybe it’s okay to just put it on for now. Just til you get inside.

It’s not until you’re standing there on the doorstep of the Harrington house that you realise you might’ve actually gone a little bit mad. This should be your worst nightmare, the sheer thought of it should have you turning on your heels and sprinting home. But you’re not, you’re knocking on the door and standing there waiting for someone to answer and you have definitely gone mad.

You can hear a muddle of voices inside, they pick up when you knock and it has you suddenly feeling a little overwhelmed. Maybe you should’ve just gone home. But before you can think anymore about whether you’ve made the right choice by coming the doors being pulled open and Steve’s stood there and he almost looks happy to see you. “Hey, you came.” His eyes scan over you, specifically his jumper, and there’s a smug smile on his face that is definitely less antagonistic than usual. “Nice jumper.”

“Yeah, got an early finish at work.” You tuck your chin to your chest to look down at your torso “Sorry, I was meant to give it to you at work but I had to rush out and then it’s kinda cold out tonight.” You can feel yourself rambling, quickly cutting yourself off. “I brought pie.” You hold up the plastic bag that holds your to-go container.

Steve waves off your apology, or explanation, or whatever it actually is. “It’s cool, keep it as long as you want.” He steps aside so you can cross the threshold into the house. You’ve never been before, but it seems like everyone knows where Steve lives purely from the amount of parties that were held here throughout high school. “You’ll be popular, gonna be invited every week if you keep bringin’ pie.”

“Using someone for their access to pie is pretty morally skewed.” You quirk an eyebrow at him, voice deadpan but you’re not being serious. It takes Steve a moment to register that, so used to the constant tension between the two of you.

“You’re right, I’ll be sure to tell everyone to not be so shallow.”

You breathe out a laugh, and it’s small and barely there but it’s genuine. You and Steve both catch it, eyes locking for a brief moment before you’re both quickly looking away. You’re still not sure what’s changed, but you’re not going to question it right now.

“Go through, get yourself comfortable.” Steve gestures towards his living room, you can hear hushed voices now that you’ve stopped talking but you try to push any urges to run out of your mind. You toe your shoes off before padding through the house, aware of the fact they’re probably filthy and the house looks pristine. Like it’s barely lived in, it could be one of those model homes.

“You’re here!” Robin practically shouts when she sees you, a grin on her face that quickly turns to a look of confusion when she realises you’re standing there in one of Steve’s jumpers. “And you’re wearing one of Ste-“

“I brought pie.” You cut her off rather than yourself this time, placing the bag onto the coffee table that already holds a ridiculous amount of food. It looks like a kids been let loose in a candy store, but then again maybe they have.

“Oh I love your job!” Robin’s quickly distracted by the gift from your work, and you silently thank your boss for unknowingly giving you a way out of what would surely be an interrogation otherwise.

The room is filled with faces that you recognise, some from school like Robin and her girlfriend Vickie, and you sort of know Nancy Wheeler who’s here with her boyfriend Jonathan. The rest are all the kids that frequent Family Video, coming in usually just to pester Steve rather than actually rent anything. They’re all squished up on the biggest couch, shoulder to shoulder as they all cram in so they fit there.

You give a small wave, a quiet hello and smile to everyone - who don’t seem all that surprised to see you there.

You settle yourself onto the floor, onto the pile of cushions and blankets that’ve been laid there as more makeshift seats. You feel out of place, in the house you’ve never been in before with people you don’t really know other than Robin. You plant your hands either side of you as you sit cross-legged, palms pressing down into the plush fabric as some sort of grounding point. It gets a little easier to not think about how you’re the odd one out once the film starts playing, conversations hushed as the opening to The Goonies starts playing.

You keep your eyes trained on the TV when Steve sits down next to you, his knees almost knocking into your own. You know there’s room on one of the couches, but maybe this is him attempting to be polite.

“Didn’t think you’d come.” He leans into your side as he speaks and you can smell the same cologne that lingered on his jumper.

“Neither did I.” You shrug, lifting your chin to the side slightly so you can look at him. The TV screen is lighting you both up, the light changing with each frame and changing the way the contours of your face are hit by shadows.

“Bit strange, you just know where I live.” He teases, and you knock your elbow into his side but it’s kind of soft and doesn’t hold any real anger to it.

“Everyone knows where you live, Harrington. You might as well have written it on the walls of the school.”

“What can I say? I’m a brilliant host.”

You roll your eyes at him, your stare through your lashes kind of soft in the low light. “Wouldn’t know.”

“You do now.” His voice is a little quieter, words spoken low like they’re supposed to stay hidden.

You ignore the way your stomach is twisting up, not in the same way it used to. “Maybe, jury’s still out.”

His bottom lip juts out, all faux upset and big brown puppy dog eyes. “Even after all my hard work? I slaved for hours over the stove.” He gestures to the table piled high with snacks, hands moving lazily and brushing against your knee. His hands are warm, or maybe you’re still cold from the walk over.

“Can you two shut up? Some of us are trying to watch this y’know?” The curly haired boy, you’re pretty sure his name is Dustin, shushes you from the couch.

“You’ve seen this like, twenty times Henderson.” Steve whispers back, like he’s suddenly conscious of keeping his voice hushed.

“Yeah, and I want to see it again. If you wanna flirt, take it elsewhere.”

You can feel the heat rise to your cheeks, a pink flush spreading across the skin and you’re grateful that Steve’s distracted by the boy because you don’t think you’d ever live this down.

“It’s my house, and I’m not -“

“Shut up.”

“Dickhead.” Steve mumbles, but he keeps quiet after that. You’re not sure if he can feel the weird tension that sits in the air between you, you hope he can’t.

There’s a big debate on what to watch next when The Goonies finally finishes, mostly involving the kids who can’t seem to decide on what they want to watch. It’s sweet to watch, if a little bizarre. This is the last sort of thing you imagined to be going on in Steve Harrington's house on a Friday night. After a good twenty minutes of arguing, the red haired girl eventually gets up with a huff and just puts Back to the Future in the VCR. She gives you a small lopsided smile as she sits back down and you recognise her from the trailer park then. She’d not long moved there, just her and her Mom. You smile back, making a mental note to say hi the next time you see her around.

“Y’seen this one before?” Steve whispers to you, cautious to not get another earful from Dustin. There’s a cheeky smile on his face when you turn to him, and it makes you smile too.

“Everyone’s seen Back to the Future.” You mumble, tongue pressed into the side of your cheek to stop yourself grinning too much. Your hands suddenly feel clammy against the blankets, so you shuffle a little so you can hold them in your lap instead.

You can feel Steve’s gaze on you throughout the movie, just for a moment or two before he’s looking back at the screen. You try not to turn your head when you realise, hoping if you keep your eyes on the screen he won’t know that you know.

You look up over to Robin at one point, who’s cuddled up close to Vickie under another blanket and she nods at you. You’re not sure if it’s a nod of approval, or more of a “I told you you’d get along”, or she could just be entirely confused by whatever was happening. It’d make sense, you’re pretty confused yourself.

Jonathan and Steve are both in charge of getting all the kids home at the end of the night, the group split between the two cars. You’re helping tidy up before you leave, grabbing any rubbish you can whilst the kids bicker about who’s going to sit where in the car.

“You have so much explaining to do.” Robin tugs at your arm as you reach down to grab a candy wrapper, Vickie standing off to the side to at least pretend to not be listening.

“I promise there’s really not much to explain.” You shrug, your hands now filled with bright coloured plastic.

“You’re kidding, right? You two hated each other for years and now you’re at his house in his jumper? Get talking.” She pokes your ribs, and you try to wriggle away from her touch.

“I mean, I was told it was an invite from the group.”

“First I’ve heard of it.”

Your mouth hangs open a little, taking a small inhale as you try to process what your friends just said. But you can’t, because then Steve calls your name from his hallway and Robins fixes you with a look and your heads feeling a bit fuzzy as you excuse yourself from the interrogation.

“You want a ride home?” Steve has his car keys dangling from his forefinger as he’s leaning against the frame of his front door.

“It’s cool, I can walk.” You look down to the colourful rubbish in your hands and then back up to Steve. “I do need a bin though.”

“I’ll sort that.” Steve takes the rubbish from you, walking into his kitchen as he continues talking. “It’s dark out, you’re not walking.”

“I walk home all the time.” You pull the sleeves of your, or Steve’s, jumper down over your hands.

“Good for you, not tonight though.” His voice is sarcastic and you narrow your eyes at him once he’s standing back in front of you but it feels different to how it used to, a lot less like a standoff.

“It‘s out of the way, I’m fine to walk.”

“I’m dropping Max off, you live in the same place.”

You huff, eyes locked with Steve’s as he raises his eyebrows at you because he knows he’s won. “Fine, but only ‘cause you’re already going there.”

Robin and Vickie both give you the same look as they pass you on the way to the car, their eyebrows raised and a grin that says you’ve been caught red handed. You’d try to argue a defence but you wouldn’t even know where to begin.

After all the arguing the kids went through to decide who gets shotgun, Steve ends up kicking Dustin out the passenger seat so you can sit there. The boy grumbles something you can’t hear as he clambers into the backseat, but Steve fixes him with a glare and he seems to quiet down pretty fast.

You don’t say much during the drive home, mostly just listen in to the silly arguments Steve, Dustin and Max have. You never pinned Steve as the type to babysit, and maybe this wasn’t quite babysitting, but it was clear how much he cared about them despite all their bickering. It was miles apart from how you two bicker, or used to anyway.

Dustin is the first out, and he actually says goodbye to you as he climbs out, clearly no grudge held over you stealing his spot up front. Once you get to Forest Hills you realise Max’s trailer is opposite Eddie’s as Steve pulls up in front of it, waiting until she’s inside before he starts his car back up.

“I can just get out here if it’s easier.” You gesture out of the window with your thumb.

“It’s fine, you get door to door service with me.” It’s dark in the car, the inky black of the night seeping into the enclosed space but you can tell Steve has some cheesy grin on his face just from the sound of his voice.

It’s only about two minutes before you’re outside your own trailer, the bedside lamp in your room left on for you and emitting a glow through the slatted blinds over your window.

“Y’know, Robin said she didn’t know anything about inviting me tonight.” You don’t know why you say it, wanting to push the words back inside as soon as they come out.

Steve exhales out a laugh, a little awkward because he didn’t really think about the fact you would definitely speak to Robin. “I mean, I did say it was anonymous, so could’ve been anyone else.”

“Right, yeah, I’m sure Nancy Wheeler was really rooting for my presence there.” You raise a fist alongside your words, fake enthusiasm quilted by a genuine smile.

“You can’t get me to reveal anything more, I’ve already said too much.” Steve shakes his head at you and you can’t help but let out a laugh. It’s a proper laugh and it surprises you a little when it comes out, Steve thinks it’s one of the nicest sounds he’s ever heard.

“Wouldn’t want to get you in trouble.” You nod your head, closing your eyes as if this were a serious issue. “Thanks for the ride, again. Better be careful or I’ll get used to it and start expecting ‘em.” You tease, finally lifting your bag out the footwell and you’re already halfway out the car before Steve can reply and tell you that he wouldn’t really mind that. It’s probably for the best that he keeps that to himself anyway.

You turn to give him a wave, a small flick of your wrist and a small smile that’s barely visible in the dark but it’s definitely there. You almost begrudge yourself for letting your guard down so much, seemingly so easy to just forget how much you really disliked Steve Harrington. You try to tell yourself you still find him annoying, maybe not to the level of hatred as before but he’s not off the hook. Your arguments with yourself become less convincing by the day.

—

By the end of summer, the rain that so often frequents Hawkins in the fall has already started to pour. Most days there’s at least a shower, and if you’re lucky it’s when you’re tucked away in work. But some days it’s like the heavens have opened and weep for the whole day, no relief or break in the clouds, just a solid slate of grey across the sky.

You know to bring a waterproof with you every time you leave the house, so your clothes can at least stay dry as you march across town to your shifts. But the cold of the rain has you sniffling, nose permanently a little pink along with your cheeks even when you’re out of the cold.

It’s also become somewhat of a routine for Steve to drive you home if you’re both working that day, the same argument each time of you insisting that you’re fine to walk or you can call a cab and him being adamant that he’s giving you a ride and that’s that. He’ll even come back to pick you up a couple of times when he’s finished a few hours earlier than you, waiting in his car in the parking lot as you wrestle with the keys to lock up. He’ll try to say he was passing by anyway, you think that he’s lying but you choose not to say.

You’re wiping down the last few tables of the diner, the sun set a good few hours ago now and the harsh fluorescents are making your temples pulse with the threat of a headache after being here all day. Your feet ache, you’ve barely been off them for the last twelve hours and even though you’re used to it, it doesn’t make the pain any less irritating. The venues empty now, at least, so you can focus on speeding through the last of the close and finally return to your bed.

The bell above the door jingles, an indicator that someone pushed it open and you try to stifle the groan that wants to spill from your mouth. You’re too tired to deal with some disgruntled customer who’s about to be told they can’t get a burger.

You toss your cleaning rag onto the still damp table, a little dramatic with it as you smooth out your apron and head to the host desk. “Sorry, but we’re all closed up now.” You call through before you even reach it, hoping they might turn round and leave before you have to face them.

“Damn, can’t even get a coke?”

You peer round the curve of the diner to see Steve standing at the host desk, hands shoved into the front pockets of his jeans and he gives you a stupid grin and you bite your bottom lip to stop yourself grinning back. “Nope, not even a coke.” You’re at the desk now, still behind it so it serves as a divider between you and Steve.

“Oh, that’s a shame. Was really craving one.” He shrugs his shoulders,

“Why’re you really here, Harrington?” You ask even though you’re pretty sure you know the answer.

“Told you, I was craving a coke. But seen as I’m here, and you’re nearly done, I can give you a ride home.” He says it so casually, like it’s just a coincidence and definitely not because he knew you were closing tonight and for some reason he really doesn’t like the thought of you walking home alone in the dark.

“Y’gonna give me a say in that?” You look up at him through your mascara coated lashes, a little smudged under your eyes after your long day.

“Probably not, no.” He shrugs again.

You sigh, all false dramatics and Steve knows it. “Fine, you’re gonna have to wait around for me to finish though.” You gesture to the booths that line the front windows.

He sets himself down in one of the garishly red booths, the leather worn and stitching frayed and still a little damp from where you’ve wiped them down.

You disappear back into the restaurant, just for a couple of minutes, only to return with a glass filled with coke and you set it down wordlessly in front of him. You don’t wait for him to respond, instead moving straight back out of his eyeline to finish up your close. You don’t want him to think it means more than it does, or maybe you don’t want to think about what it means. It’s one of the two.

It doesn’t take you long to finish up your jobs, you’re so used to doing them that you could probably get them done blindfolded or in your sleep. You say a quick goodbye to your manager, gathering up your coat and bag that you’d tossed into the office when you’d arrived and bundling them up into your arms.

When you get back to Steve he’s still sipping on his coke, eyes watching you pad over with your belongings clutched to your chest.

“You need me to pay for this before we go?” He asks, straw resting on his lips so he can go back to drinking it as soon as he’s spoken.

“Nah, you’re good.” You shuffle your bag in your arms when you feel it slipping from your grasp. “Just don’t tell on me.”

Steve mimes zipping his mouth shut, and holds out the now empty glass to you. You raise an eyebrow at him, your arms full and he retracts the glass when he realises there’s no way you’re grabbing it.

“Just put it on the bar.” You turn your body to look back to the bar, and Steve shuffles himself out the booth so he can place the glass on the end of the counter.

“C’mon then, trouble.” His smile grows when you roll your eyes at his nickname, a scoff falling from your lips that holds no real weight.

“Don’t call me that, asshole.” You grumble, walking ahead of Steve and out of the diner, the bell ringing out as you pull it open to leave.

“Don’t call me asshole, asshole.” He mimics your voice, and you turn to shoot him a half hearted glare.

“You’re a nightmare, givin’ me a headache.” You wait at the passenger door, looking over the roof to him and the amused look on his face.

“You don’t mean it.” He hums, eyes fixed on you as he unlocks the car.

“Totally do.” You hold his stare just for a moment before fumbling with the door handle amongst your belongings, huffing a little as you struggle to pry the door open. You manage it, though, with a little stubbornness.

As soon as you’re in the car you toss your stuff in the footwell, your bag has spent an increasing amount of time there to the point where there’s probably various things that have fallen out rolling around there. Pens and hair elastics and maybe a lip gloss, all littered on the floor waiting to be found.

“You got any decent music yet?” You root through his glove box, even though you know he’s definitely not bought anything new since you last looked through his cassettes.

“They’re all decent.” Steve counters, hands circling the wheel as he reverses out the parking spot and onto the road. “You’re just uncultured.”

“Yeah, you’re right, I’m sorry I ever insulted Bon Jovi.” You pull the tape out and tap it against your hand, the hard plastic leaving your palm a little red.

“Well, that one’s not mine.”

“Don’t lie to me, Harrington.”

“It’s not.” He sulks, and you let out a small laugh as you push it back into its place and close the glove box.

“It’s okay, I’m not judging.” You tip your head back against the seats headrest, twisting so you can look at Steve. He glances at you out the side of his eyes, a look of I know you are in the quick stare. “Someone’s gotta like them Steve, it’s good you’re taking one for the team.”

Steve turns to look at you properly, brows pinched together a little and he looks almost confused.

“What? Oh come on, I was just teasin’.”

“You called me Steve.”

“Well, yeah, that’s your name?” Your brows furrow now, your faces mirroring each other.

“You never call me Steve, it’s always Harrington or some stupid insulting nickname.” He chuckles over the last part, face softening slightly.

“Oh. Right.” You pause, mouth twisting up a little as you think about what he’s just said. “I guess you’re right.” You can feel Steve still looking at you as both sit in silence, your eyes flicking between him and the dashboard. “Stop staring at me, you’re makin’ it weird.”

“It is weird.” He laughs, and you huff, sinking further into your seat with your arms crossed across your body. It’s like you’re trying to make yourself smaller, shrink yourself down to stop him staring at you.

“You’re weird.” You grumble, but there’s nothing really behind your words.

“Y’know you used to be a lot better at comebacks.” He teases, and you rack your brain to try to come up with some witty response but everything feels a little jumbled and the words won’t pull together in a way that makes sense.

“Yeah, well, I’m tired. You tire me out with tryna navigate your shitty music selection.”

“Oh do I?”

“Yeah, you do.”

Steve laughs and you can feel the heat rising to your cheeks, blood pumping harder and flushing your skin and you’re grateful that the streetlights don’t offer much clarity because you don’t want him picking up on your blush too.

You stay silent until you reach the trailer park, words all caught up in your throat that won’t come out even if you want them too. Steve doesn’t seem to mind though, just keeps glancing at you with a smug smile on his face because he knows you’re flustered, as much as you try to play it off. You caught yourself off guard, and so did he, and now you’re too busy in your own head to actually say anything.

The car pulling to a stop eventually brings you out of your head, back to reality and to the front seat of Steve’s car. You look out the window to your trailer as it sits empty in the dark, no lights left on so it's almost completely enveloped by the night sky, the faintest outline of it visible through the inky black.

You reach for your belongings in the footwell, wringing the straps of your bag in your hands as you press your lips together trying to come up with the words you want to say. Or any words at all at this point.

“Nobody home?” Steve nods his head towards your unlit trailer, and you look over at him with wide eyes, blinking a little as the words process that he’s talking about your home and not about the fact you’ve sat in silence for the last five minutes.

“Oh, no, my parents are travelling for a couple weeks.” You stumble over your words, like your brain has forgotten how to communicate with your voice box properly. You let them sit in the air for a moment, mouth still slightly agape like you’re not quite done. “Do you wanna come in? I’ve got a couple joints rolled, if that’s your sorta thing.” You can’t meet his eyes, instead staring past him into the night beyond the window.

“Depends.” Steve draws the word out, and you have to look at him to try and read his expression despite the fact it’s probably the last thing you want to do right now. “You got any Bon Jovi?”

You roll your eyes at him. “Shut up, absolutely not.”

“I suppose I’ll cope.” He sighs, all over dramatic as he pulls the keys out the ignition and holds them in his palm. “C’mon then, lead the way.”

You push yourself out the passenger door, stumbling a little over your own feet in the dark as you try to dig through your coat pocket for your keys. It probably doesn’t take you that long to find them, but in the dark it feels like time drags on and there’s a million eyes on you watching your every move because what on earth were you doing bringing Steve Harrington into your home out of choice? Maybe it was a moment of temporary insanity, maybe it’ll wear off soon.

You have to kick the bottom left corner of your front door to get it open, some internal part of it sticking and you curse yourself for never actually sorting it because the world around you is as good as silent and the sound of the impact of your shoes on the plastic seems to ricochet around you.

Everything feels a bit less strange once you knock the lights on, the buttery yellow glow over the familiar surfaces seeming to settle your mind. You stand aside to let Steve in, closing the door behind him and cutting off the cold night breeze that was leaking in.

“Stay here, I’m gonna go get changed.” Your hands are still full so you have to jutt your head towards your bedroom, Steve only nodding in response as he gazes around the room.

Your parents have a habit of collecting nic nacs and trinkets from their travels, and they litter every possible surface they can around the living room. It makes for an interesting space to look at, you suppose. Although it could also be bordering on just looking cluttered.

Your room feels a lot calmer, and emptier, in comparison. Most of the decorations are taped to your walls, old tour posters your parents had held on to mixed in with photos of you and your friends. You have a little clutter on your desk, but it’s mostly a mix of pens and pencils and various makeup products you’ve been too lazy to put away. It looks lived in, really. Homely and an accumulation of yourself, everything with its own place despite the mess.

You sling your bag and coat to the corner that’ll be covered by your door once it’s open, your diner uniform swiftly following onto the now growing pile. You pull on a pair of grey sweatpants, that you’re fairly sure used to be Eddies given how you have to pull the waist tight and roll it down in order for them to fit, and a vest top that skims your midriff and leaves a band of skin showing across your stomach. You’re too tired to really care about how you look, contacts removed and glasses replacing them as you glimpse at yourself in the mirror. It’s fine, really. You’re in your space, after all.

With a pair of well worn slippers replacing your trainers, you pad out your room and back to Steve, who doesn’t look like he’s moved an inch since you left him there. “When I said stay here I didn’t mean, like, that specific spot.”

“Oh, yeah, I know, I was just lookin’ at… everything.” Steve nods, eyes moving from one of the many ceramic plates lined up on a windowsill over to you. “The glasses are back.” He grins at you, and you feel your nose scrunch up as you set him with a stare.

“Hands off them this time.” You point at him, his hands raising to his side in defence. “We can smoke in my room, just ignore the mess.”

“S’cool, I don’t mind mess.” He shrugs, and you quickly turn on your heel to walk back to your room.

“Sit.” You gesture over to your bed whilst you scour through one of your desk drawers for the little tin you keep your joints in. You pull various notepads and loose papers out, piling them up on top messily until you feel the cool metal brush your fingers and pull it out. You know there’s a lighter somewhere on the top, amidst the now larger pile of junk. You shove the papers back in, the crisp noise covering the sound of you humming to yourself as you roll pencils and make up tubes around to reveal the well worn lighter. The print worn off where you’ve held it over the course of the last few months.

The joint hangs from your lips when you turn around, snorting a laugh at the sight of Steve perched on the edge of your bed. “You can sit normally, y'know?” The words are muffled into the roach as you flop yourself onto your bed, pulling an empty can off your bedside table that’s been functioning as an ashtray. You cross your legs so it can lean against your shins as you light up, taking a deep inhale as Steve adjusts himself to be sitting a little more comfortably, less like he’s waiting in the doctor's office.

“Your rooms nice, suits you.” He looks around the space before landing on you, joint still between your lips as a smokey haze starts to fill the room.

“Cheers, Harrington.” You hold the joint out to him after taking one last drag, poised between your pointer and middle finger, your equivalent to an olive branch. “M’sure the room appreciates it.”

As soon as Steve inhales he can feel the warmth of the smoke hit his chest, flowing down his throat and spreading across him. “You like living here? In the trailer park, I mean.” His question strikes up some sort of response in you, a panic that you thought you’d moved past but your face must show it because he’s quick to clarify. “I didn’t mean it like that, like, in a bad way or anything. I was just asking, probably a stupid question.”

You shrug, and you can feel yourself cooling a little, shoulders relaxing and breathing deeper. “I guess, it’s just the norm for me though. Always lived in a trailer park.” Steve passes the joint back to you and you’re grateful for the buzz it’s giving your mind.

“It’s cosy, feels like a proper home. Like, real people actually live here.” Steve realises he probably sounds like he’s already high, and maybe it is hitting him a little quickly but it’s mostly the fact he’s just not good with his words.

“As opposed to fake people?” You hand the joint back to him.

“No, well, kind of.” He flicks the joint off into the can, hand brushing your leg as he reaches over. “My house is usually empty, other than me, it doesn’t really feel like a home y’know?”

You press your lips together, corners pulling down into a small frown at his words. “Sounds pretty shitty.”

“I’m used to it.” He shrugs. “I forget it’s not like that for everyone ‘til I’m somewhere like this.”

You never really think about the fact you’re actually lucky to have a good relationship with your parents, a close knit family unit even if it is contained in the small trailer. You must be zoning out a little because Steve knocks his hand against yours to pass you the end of the joint. You take it off him, fingers almost tangling together in the lazy movements of your hands. “At least you’ve got a good group of friends, you guys all seem really close.” You smile at him, taking one last toke of the joint before dropping into the can where it fizzles against the last of the soda in there.

“Yeah, we are, s’nice.” The haze of smoke fills your small room now, and Steve’s words are slow and soft because his heads a little fuzzy and you’d be lying if you said yours wasn’t as well.

You push yourself off your bed, feet sliding across the ground more than stepping as you mooch over to your cassette player, finger tracing over the tapes as you read over the titles you’ve seen a million times. “Any requests?” You call over your shoulder, Steve watching you from your bed with a slack smile.

“I can go get the Bon Jovi from my car?”

“Fuck off.” You shake your head at him, turning back to the player but not before he catches a glimpse of your smile. You settle on a Fleetwood Mac tape, slotting it in and turning the volume down low so it’s more of a background hum as Second Hand News starts playing. You grab a bottle of nail polish off your desk on your way back, returning to your cross legged position opposite Steve as you start painting them, tongue peaking out a little as you focus on the small brush.

You can feel your glasses slipping down your nose, a careful finger pushing them up whilst trying to keep the wet polish intact. Your eyes squint slightly in focus, lids feeling a little heavy from the smoke and your body wants to move a lot slower than you’d like it to so your strokes are a little messy as you apply the black lacquer on the last couple of nails. Carefully twisting the cap back on the bottle, you place it on your bedside table and hold your hands up to admire your work, though there’s arguably not much to admire with the specks of polish that dot the skin next to your nails. “What d’you think? Are they a total mess?” You hold your hands out to Steve, wiggling your fingers a little so the sheen of the paint catches the light from overhead.

“Nah, they look great, a real masterpiece.” Steve glances at them briefly, but even when you’re focused on your nails you can feel his eyes on you.

“What? Did I get some on my face?” You run the pad of your forefinger across your nose and the apples of your cheeks to try and feel for any stray polish, though if it was there you’ve probably just made it worse.

“No, no. Jus’ looking at you.” He pauses, lips pressed together as he takes a deep inhale through his nose. “You’re really pretty, y’know?”

Your brows pinch together, a little confused and your brains a bit too foggy to really process the fact that Steve’s just complimented you. “You’re high, Harrington.”

“A little, yeah. But you are, always thought you were.” He shrugs, leaning back on his palms and head a little crooked as he looks at you through his heavy lashes.

“Oh, really? That why you were so mean to me in school?” You ask, but you don’t sound accusing, maybe it’s the weed making everything a little softer. “What’s next? Pulling my hair in the playground?” Your lips pull into a smirk, a little too sweet for your words to hold any venom.

“Hey, you can’t blame me for thirteen year old Steve’s behaviour. S’not like that’d be my method of choice now.” Something about the way he’s speaking has your heart beating a little quicker, chest suddenly feeling heavy because it feels like he’s saying something more and you can’t deny that you want to know what that is.

“Oh yeah? What’re these methods then, hotshot?” You sit up a little, shifting in your spot because you can feel a tension in the room. It’s like you’re teetering on a ledge, and any tiny movement will send you plummeting into something entirely unknown.

“I can show you, if y’want.” Steve’s almost whispering, voice so soft that you’re not sure you heard him correctly. But the way he’s looking at you, eyelids a little heavy and pupils blown, confirms that you did.

You pull your bottom lip under your teeth, eyes scanning over his face to try and discern any sign of a laugh, trying to wait him out and see if he cracks but the seconds pass and he’s still looking at you like you’re the only other person on the planet right now. “Yeah, you can show me.”

The words have barely left your mouth before he’s moving into you, big hand cupping your cheek and thumb grazing over the trail of freckles that spread across the high point there. You feel the breath hitch in your chest at the contact, reminding yourself to keep breathing as Steve brings his face to yours. His nose nudges yours, a gentle movement that has you tilting your head to the side a little. He follows your movement, lips hovering over yours for a moment and your eyes are squeezed shut because you’re still not entirely sure this isn’t a joke and you’d rather not open your eyes and find out.

But then his lips are on yours. Your eyes are still closed and you’re still telling yourself to breathe and Steve Harrington is kissing you in your bedroom.

It’s soft at first, gentle and barely there, but then you lean forward to bring yourself closer to him and reciprocate his movements and it’s like a switch has flipped in both of you.

Your hands move from their place in your lap to behind his neck, arms draped over his shoulders and fingers brushing into the hair at the nape of his neck. The light touches have Steve kissing you with more urgency, lips parting a little more and tongues brushing against one another and then you sigh and it sends Steve’s head spiralling because you sound so pretty and it’s him who pulled that sound from you.

He keeps a hand pressed against your cheek, guiding you as he licks into your mouth and nips at your bottom lip a little, and the other sits on your waist. His fingers brush the bare skin at your waist and it has your entire body feeling like it’s being electrified, each slight movement of his hand sending another current through your veins.

He pulls away slightly, lips still so close to your own that you feel them move as he speaks. “”Are they workin’?”

You can feel the smile on his lips, and your breath fans against his lips as you exhale a small laugh. “Yeah, think so.”

Then he’s back on you, lips peppering kisses on your mouth and cheeks and jaw, trailing down your neck and sucking on that sensitive spot by your collarbone. You inhale sharp, biting down on your lip that’s a little swollen from kissing to try and stop yourself whining as he leaves purple marks along your throat. It doesn’t work very well, the noise coming out like a whimper and his grip on your waist only tightens when he hears it.

“God, y’sound so pretty.” He murmurs into your neck, kissing over the spattering of pretty lilac bruises that he’s left behind.

“Steve.” You’re definitely whining now, voice all desperate and fingers pulling at his shirt to try bring him back to your lips again.

He obeys your tugging, planting soft kisses on your mouth and pulling back to look at your face in between them. You're looking up at him through your lashes, eyes all bright and needy and probably the softest he’s ever seen them look.

“Can I touch you? Is that okay?” He punctuates his questions with more kisses, loose strands of hair falling down into his face and brushing against your skin.

Your heart feels like it’s rattling around inside your chest, desperate to break out of its confines because it feels so constrained having to stay inside there. You nod at Steve, mouth still parted a little as your chest rises and falls with your heavy breathing.

“C’mon, use your words. Normally got so much to say to me, honey.” There’s a smirk on his lips and a teasing to his voice but the way he’s looking at you gives him away, shows you he wants it as bad as you do.

“Don’t be a dick, Harrington.” You breathe, a smirk matching his spreading over your face. You lean up to kiss him again, his bottom lip pulled between your own as you move away again. “Y’can touch me, want you to.” You whisper the words, just loud enough for Steve to hear, and he’s already moving you so you’re lay beneath him with a hand beside your head holding him above you.

“Back to surnames already? Seems cruel.” He pouts, a finger running along the waistband of your sweatpants and the sensation makes you feel a little dizzy.

You shift up onto your elbows, just slightly so you can brush your nose against his and hold his gaze. “If y’want me to say your name, you’re gonna have to make me.”

Steve almost feels his heart stop at your words, the way you speak softly has his mind running a million miles an hour and his head spinning out. “Oh, I plan to.”

His hand moves slowly past your waistband, movements calculated and teasing but you keep your composure as he trails his fingers closer to your core. His pace is agonising, pulling back each time he edges closer so when his fingers finally brush over the growing wet spot on your panties you can’t help but let a small moan slip from your mouth.

“Fuck, y’already wet, huh? That all for me? Got you all riled up?” His words are smug but you can see how his chest is rising and falling quickly and his pupils are blown out as he gazes down at you.

“You ever stop runnin’ your mouth?” Your words come out breathy, little piques in your tone as he grazes over your covered clit.

He chuckles, fingers finally pushing aside your underwear after what felt like an age of teasing. “Maybe if you ask nicely.”

“In your dreams.” You barely get your words out before your breath gets stuck in your chest from Steve’s fingers rubbing circles against your clit, eyes closed and head tilting back from the sensation that’s travelling up over your whole body. “Fucking hell, Steve.”

One of your hands holds your weight, still sat up off the bed so you can bring your lips to Steve’s between your moans, and the other grips at his shoulders. Nails digging through the material of his shirt as you try to find purchase as his fingers continue their steady motions across your clit.

When he finally slides a finger inside you, your slick meaning he can slip in easily after he’s riled you up, you let your body drop against your bed. Your grip on his shoulders pulls him down with you, his other hand holding him above you. You tug at his shirt, wordlessly urging him to pull it over his head as you pant beneath him. He only stops his motions to remove it, tossing it aside to the floor of your room and you follow suit with your own which leaves your chest completely bare.

“Jesus, you’re so hot.” It’s more like he’s talking to himself than you, eyes scanning over your body and then back to your face as he returns his hand to its place between your thighs.

“Shut up.” You murmur, smile tugging at your lips and you can feel the blood running to your cheeks.

“You are, y’so beautiful.” He kisses you on your cheek, the corner of your lips, trailing them down onto your chest as he pumps his fingers inside of you.

You trail a hand up his bare arm, over his shoulder and to the nape of his neck so you can thread your fingers into his hair. Tugging a little when he finally slips another finger inside, stretching you out and pulling more moans from you as the coil inside your stomach winds itself tighter and tighter.

“Oh my god, Steve, please.” You find yourself begging, everything all too much yet not enough at the same time. Your hips buck against his hand, desperately trying to chase your high as you reach a hand between the two of you so you can palm at Steve’s crotch. Even through the denim you can feel how hard he is, straining against the confines of the fabric and you barely even have to touch him before he’s groaning into your skin in between kisses.

“What d’you want, jus’ tell me and I’ll give it to you.” His voice is strained as you continue to grope him through his jeans, pressing himself harder into your hand as he speeds up the motions of his fingers inside you.

“Want you to fuck me.” Your practically whining at this point, and you can feel your walls clenching around Steve’s fingers as he works you closer to the edge.

“Fuck, yeah, I want that too.” You don’t think you’ve ever heard him sound so needy. “You got a condom?”

“I’m on the pill.” Your words send Steve’s head a little dizzy, a deep exhale coming from his mouth and you take it as disappointment. “S’fine if you don’t want to, though.”

“Are you kidding?” Steve locks his eyes with your own, both still a little hazy from smoking and the intensity of the moment. “I want to.”

With his words your already fiddling with the button of his jeans, tugging at the denim and he pulls his fingers out of you so he can tug them down along with his boxers and discard them onto the ever growing pile of clothes on the floor. You can see how hard he is now, tip already leaking as he helps you out of your own sweatpants so you’re left in only your panties.

You wiggle your body a little as you slowly pull them off, suddenly feeling a little too exposed despite all that's already happened tonight. But the way Steve’s staring at you, like you’re a work of art, something made just for him, makes you feel a little less self conscious.

“You sure you want to do this? We don’t have to.” His voice is soft and you know that you could turn him down now and it’d be fine, whatever grudge that was held between you is now buried no matter what you say. But you do want it, not even 24 hours ago it might’ve killed you to admit it but not now. Not here, in your room with Steve looking down at you like you’re the only girl in the world.

“I want it, want you, Steve.” You lean up and kiss him softly, a break from the teasing and intensity of your touches. Something more gentle, in place of an apology or explanation, something that says I don’t just want you now, I want you for good. Steve kisses you back like he understands.

Steve pushes into you slowly, gradually hitting deeper inside you with each thrust and it has you squeezing your eyes shut tight and practically seeing stars. When he finally bottoms out, he stays there for a moment, the pair of you breathing in sync. He can feel your walls squeezing him, and he has to take a moment to collect himself to stop himself finishing then and there.

Your arms hang over his shoulders, one hand running through his hair and the other tracing lines on his back. You almost feel bad for how your nails dig into his skin when he starts moving again, but when he moans in your ear you don’t feel so guilty anymore.

“Feels so good, wanted this for so long y’know? Think it would’ve solved all our problems.” Steve’s rambling on, a little drunk on how good you feel and how you look underneath him. “Don’t think m’gonna last long, keep clenching around me and it’s driving me crazy.”

Your bedroom is filled with the sounds of your moans, bed creaking and it’s all a little dirty but you’re too fucked out to care. The knot in your stomach is still tugging tighter from when Steve had his fingers inside you, and it’s only getting more intense now his cock is nudging that spot inside you that you can never reach on your own. “I’m close too, y’feel so good Steve.” Your voice is sickly sweet and only pushes Steve closer to the edge.

“Jesus, fuck.” Steve runs a thumb across your cheek, eyes locked with yours as he pounds into you harder and the sounds you’re making are bordering on pornographic - you’d be embarrassed if he wasn’t so clearly into it, kissing you hard and a little messy and you can feel that coil in your stomach about to snap.

“M’gonna cum.” You can barely force your words out, especially when Steve moves a hand back to your clit and begins rubbing circles around the bundle of nerves. It only takes a few more thrusts for you to go tumbling over the edge, walls clenching around him tight as you grip his shoulders and leave little crescent marks as a reminder of the night.

You can tell Steve’s close too, the way he’s moaning your name and his pupils are blown as he watches you unravel. His thrusts get a little sloppy, quicker but his rhythm is messy and when you drag your nails down his back it’s the final push for him. You can feel it as he cums inside you, warm ropes filling you up and he keeps thrusting into you slowly even after he’s finished. His breathing is heavy as he looks down at you, bodies tangled and a little sweaty but he still thinks you look beautiful.

You feel empty when he finally pulls out of you, like your body had gotten used to him being there. You whine a little at the feeling, but Steve’s quick to kiss away the noise as he strokes your hair.

“This mean we’re friends now?” You ask, a little teasing as you smile at him.

Steve shifts his body from its place over you, looking through the mess of clothes on the floor to find his boxers amongst them. He hands you his t-shirt, and you’re not oblivious to the fact he’s giving you his clothes to wear instead of your own. He looks over to your light switch and then back to you, going to flick it off when you respond with a nod. “You do this with all your friends?”

“Well, no. But y’gotta at least ask me on a date before you get to pass that point.” You pull his shirt over your head, the smell of his cologne a comfort as you settle into it.

“What, you wanna be wined and dined, huh?” He’s grinning at you, and you shuffle up to let him lay next to you in your bed.

“Obviously, Harrington. Get with the program.”

“C’mon, surely I’m past the surname point now.” His finger traces along your jaw as he lays facing you, following the curves of your face and nudging it closer to his.

“Maybe, I’ll think about it.” You’re still grinning as you kiss him, just for a moment but even after you pull away you keep your face close to his.

His arm rests over your waist as you cuddle into him, a soothing weight that helps to lull you quickly into a sleep. You slot into his body easily, head on his chest and his chin resting atop of it, falling into a position that feels almost too natural, like it’s something you should’ve been doing for a long time before.

You’re not sure what time it is when you get woken by a knock at your door. Though a knock is probably too gentle a word, it was more like a repetitive slap against the plastic that has you grumbling as you try to wriggle out of Steve’s grip and out of bed. You pull your joggers on, eyes still a little fuzzy from sleep as you make your way out your room and to whoever was pounding on your door.

“Alright, alright.” You’re mumbling so whoever’s out there definitely didn’t hear you. You pull the door open the door to see Eddie standing there, stupid smug grin on his face as you stand there still half asleep. “Jesus, Eddie, what is it?”

“Harringtons here, isn’t he?” He sounds almost giddy with it, because he knows he’s right. He looks behind him to Steve’s car, then back to you as you stand there in Steve’s shirt. And then he notices the spattering of purple bruises along your neck, and that’s enough to send him over the edge with laughter. “Oh my god, I knew it! I knew this would happen!”

You stand there, blinking the sleep out your eyes because you’re still way too tired to be dealing with Eddie and his apparent victory. “D’you actually want something? Or is this it?” You point down to him, the boy still grinning wide and you’re half tempted to just slam the door in his face.

“This is it.” He shrugs. “Just needed proof, and those-“ He wiggles his finger towards your neck “-are proof.”

“Fantastic, thanks so much for waking me up for this Eds.” You huff, hand already on the door ready to shut him out. “Now get lost.” There’s nothing cruel to your voice, Eddie knows you too well to take any offence.

“See y’later, you little harlot.” That’s enough for you to slam the door in his face.

You pad back into your bedroom, Steve groaning as you clamber over him to try and get back into place but inevitably disturb him as you do so.

“What was that?” His voice is thick with sleep, a little gruff and you tuck your face back into his chest with a sigh.

“Jus’ Eddie. Gloating ‘cause he got proof.” Your voice is muffled, lips brushing against his skin as you speak.

“Proof of what?” Steve’s hand trails lazily up your spine, a barely there touch that could easily lull you back to sleep.

“This, us, I guess.”

“Oh, well, that’s not so bad, is it?”

“Nah, I don’t mind.” You move your head away so you can look at Steve, eyes fighting to stay open and a sleepy smile on your face. “D’you?

Steve shakes his head, eyes all doting on you even in his tired state. “I don’t mind at all.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x female reader #steve harrington x y/n smut #steve harrington x fem

2K notes · View notes

devilishchaos · 7 months

Text

Wildin', on a boat on an island | Rúben Dias Imagine

Rating / genre: M (18+); smut, fluff

Pairings: Reader x Rúben Dias

Summary: Y/N and Rúben go on vacation..again.

Warnings: Explicit smut, explicit talk, oral (f receiving), unprotected vaginal penetration (don't do it!!! stay safe!), hair grabbing, use of pet names "baby", "babe", "princesa"

AN: manifesting this photos energy <3 enjoy x

Word Count: 5 871 words

This is a work of fiction. The story, names, characters and incidents either are product or the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Your eyes narrowed slightly as you analyzed the shirtless brunette standing in front of you, your arms were crossed firmly across your chest. His eyebrows were raised as he awaited your answer, his back pressed against the kitchen island.

“You are suggesting we don’t sleep together for the vacation..why?” you questioned, waiting for a decent explanation.

“Because..my parents room is literally 30 centimeters from ours.” he explained quickly as he shrugged his shoulders with ease “AND I didn’t say that we can’t sleep in the same room! Just no funny business while in it..”

For more context, Rúben had asked you to accompany him on a little trip, on this beautiful boat on his family vacation. And has decided that now - an hour till you guys go on the boat - is the perfect time to let you know he didn’t want to have sex with you.

“It’s not like that has stopped you before?!?” you questioned him, with some suspicion still.

“Babe..in the house is different. It’s a big house. Practically no one can hear us.” he answered with obviousness, it was a simple but logical answer “Listen, I’m going to go upstairs to bring your luggage down and put it in the car, while you cool off a bit, yeah?”

You already knew it was probably one of the worst ideas he'd ever had and considering it's impulsive, spontaneous Rúben we're talking about..it was indeed terrible.

"No." you replied simply, with no further explanation or motives as to why.

Rúben looked actually taken aback by your answer, not being used to getting a ‘no’, not even from you. Though, he knew the only reason you'd said ‘no’ was to contradict him, and you, having no apparent reason to refuse, was an open invitation for Rúben to keep insisting.

“Come on, it'll only be three days out.” Rúben insisted, using the nicest voice he could “Out there in the nice sea, with perfect weather, with food, drinks and a nice AC system... yeah? Plus - the boat has a double jacuzzi! Yeah?” he questioned you with a raised eyebrow, and at that, you shut your mouth.

“I-”

“Uh huh, exactly.”

“I can live without it!”

“Oh, come on Y/N..” Rúben sighed heavily, closing his eyes for a few seconds, as if recharging his patience before adding “I'll give you whatever you want, whatever it is, I'll get it for you..after those three days. The only condition is - no sex on the boat."

That really got you thinking.

“I can’t believe you. You sound really confident in yourself right now! Why do you think it is going to be me that is going to initiate something with you first? But you’re lucky that I love João, Bernardete and Ivan and would love to spend time with them. Have a great day Mr. Dias.” and with that you went inside the house to get your luggage because you are an independent young lady, who is not going to let things play out like her boyfriend wants to.

In no time at all, the five of you were out. Rúben told you it would take a couple of hours to reach the perfect spot and if everything went well the fun on the boat could start in the early hours of the next day.

It didn't seem like a bad plan, so you saw no reason to complain, it seemed fair. And if it wasn't so many days together you could easily ignore him.

Rúben had kept his word about the ship's commodities, there were all kinds of snacks, drinks, and he had brought other kinds of substances. It was actually very comfortable and a part of you was glad you'd accepted to join them. But you still weren’t able to relax knowing your man didn’t wanna sleep with you.

To say you were pissed at him was an understatement, but you were at that point of anger where you didn't even bother to show it, you immediately resorted to ignoring Rúben, which was very hard to do considering the fact that he was walking basically naked around you, only wearing his stupid short shorts that you wanted to rip off of him so bad.

You had had your doubts about it at first, but now you were more than grateful that you had packed your swimsuits. Since you were giving Rúben the cold shoulder, you would have to find another way to entertain yourself; and being that you were in the sea and the weather is so nice, the most logical and comfortable thing to do would be to lie down on your towel, put on your sunglasses on and at least get a good tan out of it.

Rúben, on the other hand, was annoyed with himself. He knew it was among the possibilities that you would get mad at him and do just what you are doing now, which is ignoring him completely.

He hadn't seen you since last night, when you two had an argument during dinner about sleeping in separate rooms, which you insisted on. Since he didn’t wanna have sex with you - you didn’t want to tempt him..yet.

Rúben felt his heart almost leap out of his chest as soon as he saw you come out of the booth, in your red swimsuit, the one that accentuated every curve of your body. You'd worn it around him before, and the last time you did, he fucked you in the pool.

You seemed not to have seen him, or if you had, then you did a very good job of pretending he wasn't there. Once you knew you were within his range of view and he could see you perfectly well, you bent over to lay your towel on the floor of the boat, feeling the fabric of your bathing suit slide slightly over your butt. It wasn't much, but just enough.

Rúben’s jaw tightened so bad he feared his teeth would crack, to keep from letting out a groan at the sight, he closed his eyes shut and gripped the edge of the table until his knuckles turned white; focusing on what Ivan was telling him, trying to get the image of you, bent over a few feet in front of him in nothing but your bathing suit, out of his mind.

Rúben knew you were doing it on purpose, you knew how much he liked that bathing suit on you. But today? Right now? You were playing very dirty games with his head.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't take his eyes off you. The way your skin glowed under the sun, how well your swimsuit fit and the fact that you were doing this to provoke him, caused his shorts to feel too tight all of a sudden.

Rúben didn't even know what to do with himself, so he decided to go take a cold bath; he wouldn't give you the satisfaction of messing with his head like that.

He excused himself and exited the small cabin, leaving Ivan, and you lifted your head to see him walk away. Rúben looked a little uncomfortable and you noticed how he slightly tugged the front of his shorts as he walked.

"What, do I make you nervous, Rúbes?" you teased in a loud voice, causing him to turn around and flip you off. Without saying anything else, Rúben entered another door and slammed it shut.

And with that, a little victory smile appeared on your lips.

Eventually, tanning got boring. You looked down at your own body and lifted the edge of your swimsuit slightly, the tan lines were just the way you liked them, on point. Full of satisfaction, you gathered your things and decided to go back inside, maybe to take a bath and eat something.

You entered quietly, not wanting to attract anybody's attention. You walked down the hallway to the bathroom. Just as you grabbed the bathroom doorknob to open it - the door opened. Out of the bathroom came Rúben, with nothing but a towel tied around his hips. You stopped dead in your tracks in the hallway at the sight, which you couldn't deny was very good. The towel was wrapped around Rúben’s hips so low that his prominent V-line was visible to a rather dangerous point, one you didn't want to let your eyes get to.

He was shirtless obviously, so you had a perfect view of his defined torso and muscular arms, some water droplets still rolled down his body, making a path from his chest, down his abdomen and getting lost under his towel.

His hair was still wet, framing his face perfectly. His dark eyes were fixed on you, and you realized, too late already, there was a little smile on his lips, prompted by the way you were eyefucking him.

“What, do I make you nervous, princesa?” Rúben questioned you, using the same condescending tone and smirk you had earlier, as he took a step closer to you.

You genuinely felt your knees weaken at his voice and the way he looked, but you were too proud to let him know that, so you simply shrugged.

“Come closer and maybe I'll tell you.” you teased with a low tone, letting your eyes travel down his body.

Rúben’s smirk only grew and you thought that finally you two were on the same page, thinking about the same thing, and more importantly, that it would happen. He took a confident step towards you, so this way he was towering over you, his chest barely inches away from yours, his lips basically hovering over yours.

You placed both hands on his body, letting them travel from his abs all the way to his chest, causing him to bite his lip at the feeling. Rúben leant down even more, his lips grazing with yours, breaths mixing and skin touching.

And then..

You pushed him out of the way and locked yourself in the bathroom. By doing that, provoking Rúben in that way and then putting a door between the two of you - you had started a silent game, in which you were provoking each other in an obvious way, waiting to see who is going to give in first. And you were determined it is not going to be you.

After hours of playing tease, any slight contact or brush from Rúben’s skin against yours had you biting your lip to silence a sound and any look you gave Rúben with your bedroom eyes had him on the verge of jumping your bones.

The staring game got a little too heavy for Rúben, so he stood up from the booth and walked to the kitchen, pulling out a cold bottle of water to refresh himself. You knew you couldn't let him get away with it, at least not without trying, so you stood up and walked to the kitchen as well, if he asked, then being dinner time would be a perfect excuse.

Rúben heard you walk into the kitchen, but paid no mind, deciding to focus solely on his water, placing a hand on the kitchen island and letting his head hang low. Funny enough, the drawer where pans are kept is right where Rúben is, by his left hand, and sure as hell you wouldn't ask anything from him. Which left you with only one choice.

You walked to where he stood, which he noticed as he turned his head sideways to look at you, and right when he took a step back, you found the perfect opportunity to slip right between him and the kitchen island, your body grinding on him, in all the right places.

The sound of Rúben’s breathing picking up gave you a sense of victory, as you remained in front of him and bent slightly to take out the pan you needed, only to walk away right when you felt him harden behind you and the ghost of his hand over your hip.

He really thought he had you. Again.

Your smile of victory didn't disappear, not even when the stove wouldn't turn on and you had to resort to chopping fruit and hoping that was enough to rid your hunger. Now is when Rúben found the perfect opportunity to tease you back, seeing as you were completely distracted while cutting fruit. He slowly walked back into the kitchen, making sure you couldn't hear him. You were completely clueless to his presence, even when he stood right behind you.

However, as soon as Rúben took another step closer, you did become aware of his presence. Very.

“Oh, don't mind me.” he mumbled in your ear.

“Rúben, what are you doing?” you asked, pretending to be completely unbothered, while the reality is that you're screaming on the inside. His chest was pressed to your back, one of his hands had found its way to your hips, and his breath tingled in your ear.

And right there was when he reached out to grab a glass, which was on the cabinet above your head. The reality is that he didn't have to stretch to reach the glass, it was just a matter of raising his arm. But where was the fun in that?

As he stretched, his body pressed even closer against yours, you could feel him hard against you, his breath now in your ear. And in an attempt to avoid his lips, you bent over, a move that only served in Rúben’s favor, causing you to bite your lip in an attempt to silence the moan that would come from your lips.

You both were thinking the same thing. Of just how easy it would be for him to take you right there and then.

But you wouldn't give up just yet, no sir, you still had one ace up your sleeve. Which is why you picked up your fruit tray and slid out from the right space between the bar and Rúben’s body.

Normally, you wouldn't care if Rúben decided to just watch you eat instead of eating something himself, but right now it had you on edge.

You and his mother were sitting on the couch in the booth, while Rúben and Ivan were sitting opposite of you, their dad fishing on the other end of the boat. Rúben was sitting on the seat in front of you, his legs spread slightly, his hands on his thighs and his eyes fixed on you. He was basically manspreading, occasionally lifting his hips from the chair to ‘get comfortable’, but you weren't stupid.

“Are you done flexing your muscles?” you asked him boredly, raising an eyebrow at him.

He opened his mouth to say something, but closed again as you stood up, his eyes followed your hand closely, especially when you drove your fingers to your lips and sucked the remaining fruit juice off them. The sight almost made him roll his eyes, but not in annoyance.

“I'm going to the jacuzzi.” you announced, letting your eyes travel over him. “You continue doing that.”

Even though it had not been an open or direct invitation, you knew Rúben had understood the innuendo.

You hurried to the jacuzzi, taking off your clothes as the water heated up, you poured the bubble soap while letting your hair down, knowing that Rúben wouldn't be long in coming, although he wasn't hot on your heels to disguise how desperate he was, you knew he was coming for you.

As you stared at the steaming, bubbly water, a wicked idea found its way to your mind.

Meanwhile, Rúben paced back and forth in the hallway, running his hands through his hair repeatedly, especially when he stopped and had that urge to open the bathroom door where he knew you were.

You're just a door away and what's holding him back is his pride. Knowing that if he opens that door, he's admitting his need for you. Proving that chasing after you is more important than his pride.

He cursed himself for what felt the longest time before giving in and opening the bathroom door. The first thing he saw was steam. Lots of it. It made him squint his eyes while they trailed over the place in search of you.

His eyes fell on the jacuzzi, it was filled with small bubbles, the room smelt like you, white musk scent surrounding you. And there you were, your back pressed against the side of the jacuzzi, arms spread over the edge, the bubbly water covering your body, stopping right below your collarbones, just atop of your chest.

His mind automatically went places, but Rúben kept his thoughts at bay as he took off his shirt without a word. You did nothing but stare at him, your eyes following his every move, from the way he gripped the edge of his shirt, to the way he slid it off his body and his torso came into view.

Rafe took a step closer, but he felt something soft under his foot, so he looked down. And what did he find?

Your swimsuit.

At first he didn't process entirely what it meant, but then his eyes widened.

You were naked.

In the jacuzzi that's just a couple of steps away from him.

And he was just..standing there like an idiot? Rúben was embarrassed of himself.

A soft giggle escaped your lips when you noticed how flustered Rúben suddenly got, he actually struggled while taking off his shorts and if you hadn't been so amused by the view, you would have offered to help.

Eventually he stopped fumbling with its ties and right when he pulled it down his hips, you looked away. Your tongue glided over your teeth as you felt the temptation to look, but you were stronger than that.

“Enjoying the jacuzzi you said you could live without?” Rúben asked in a calm tone as he got in it, sitting by your right side.

“Very much.” you assured, running your hand through the water, moving the bubbles slightly, you really had no intention other than to distract yourself from how nervous you were, still, Rúben tried to see through the bubbles.

He couldn't handle himself anymore, he had denied himself of you for so long that he wanted you now. Told himself he was crazy. But now that he has you in front of him - he will do anything to have you.

And an idea popped up in his mind. He knew this would be pathetic, lame even, but it would work.

As you both did nothing but enjoy the hot tub and tried to ignore each other's bodies, Rúben discreetly slid his hand to the side control panel of the hot tub. Although he would never admit it, he spends so much time in the hot tub that he learned the controls by heart. So he knew exactly which buttons to push to disable two of the hot tub jets, the ones on your side, for that matter.

Your state of relaxation was interrupted as soon as you stopped feeling the hot water flowing on your side of the jacuzzi, the vibrations had stopped and you no longer felt the soft massages on your skin.

You raised your head and opened your eyes, noticing that indeed, the water stopped on your side. “What the..”

“What's wrong?” Rúben asked, his eyes closed as he did his best to hide a little smirk.

“The water just..stopped?” you replied in confusion, not understanding why he was so calm.

“Oh, that's bad. My side is just fine.” he replied simply, opening his eyes.

You rolled your eyes at his disinterested tone. You couldn't believe that you had actually gone out of your way to plan all this and he couldn't even stop getting on your nerves for a second.

Utterly done with his bullshit, you slowly moved to the little steps that led out of the hot tub, the last thing you wanted was to slip and embarrass yourself.

However, before you could even reach them, you felt long fingers wrapping around your wrist, his skin was soft and warm due to the hot bubbly water. You turned to look at him, doing your best to keep your eyes focused on his.

“Come closer.” his voice was calm, his fingers softly tugged your wrist; as if wanting to pull you closer but not quite to make you uncomfortable.

You complied to his request and walked slowly to where he sat, the bubbles doing all the work and covering your body from his. You kept getting closer, Rúben slowly opened his legs, so you could stand between them.

The feeling of the skin of his thighs against yours was your cue to stop, knowing that if you took one step closer, you'd feel him against you.

His eyes bore on yours. The hazel color of his eyes was darkened by the lust running through his body, his pupils were dilated, his lips plump and red. He was one hell of a handsome man.

Your faces were inches away from each other, but neither of you would yield to the temptation.

You bit your lip slightly as soon as you felt Rúben’s large hands resting on your hips, the grip was firm, showing he wasn't hesitating.

Testing the waters, you took a step closer and he let you, the grip on your hips becoming firmer and more secure, you could even say you felt him pulling you into his body slightly.

Keeping eye contact, Rúben’s hand began to slide lightly, brushing your hip with his fingertips. His hand moved down to your thigh, where he caressed your thigh with his fingertips, drawing imaginary circles, which moved closer and closer to the center of your legs.

Knowing exactly what he was doing, you felt fire in the pit of your stomach. You wanted him. And you wanted him now. But you also didn't want to give him the satisfaction. Maybe after all you were as stubborn as he claimed you were.

You motioned to move your leg, and immediately, Rúben took a hold of your thigh, stopping you. A smirk appeared on your lips. Without saying anything, you yielded to his touch and moved even closer, putting your leg over his thigh and quickly bringing the other leg up as well, straddling him.

The direct contact of your skin with Rúben’s, your core brushing against his dick..made him let out an agitated sigh right in your ear.

And you would have teased him about it, but the truth is that the contact of his hard dick against your body almost made you moan. He was right under you, all it took was for you to raise slightly and for him to align himself.

Ignoring how much you wanted to grind on him, you put your arms around his shoulders, wrapping your arms around his neck in the process, moving even closer, your chest pressed against his and your chin resting on his shoulder, wanting to enjoy the warm water a while longer before the inevitable happened.

Rúben’s arms wrapped around your body, your breasts pressed against his chest, your pussy brushing just the right places on his dick. If this is the game you wanted to play, then Rúben would be just as good at it.

He lifted his hips slightly and at that you couldn't help but let out a gasp, which you prayed he hadn't heard, but he did and it only fed his ego.

As his fingertips caressed your spine, Rúben moved your hair from your shoulders to get better access and brought his lips to your neck. He started with innocent kisses, little brushes of his lips against your skin, while his fingertips caressed your skin.

However, he was determined to break you. He brought his lips to the small spot below your ear, where he sucked, receiving an audible moan from you. One of his hands had slid down your back until it ended at your left asscheek, which he squeezed and used to push your body against his, causing you to grind on him.

“Fuck..” you mumbled, throwing your head back out of mere instinct.

He had so many dirty comments to make, but he decided to concentrate on you. Since you had thrown your head back, he had more access to your neck. He brought his lips to your skin again, starting to leave little bites and kisses all over, while one of his hands traveled to your breasts, his fingers taking one of your nipples and giving it a twist.

At this you squirmed slightly on top of him, your hips moving against his, rubbing his dick in such a perfect way that it made him growl against your skin.

“You like that, meu amor?” he murmured against your skin, voice husky “Want me to do it again?”

“Yes.” you mumbled breathlessly.

His fingers moved deftly between your legs, as you grasped his jaw and moved his head to the side, so that you could have access to his neck and an efficient way to quiet the sounds he would elicit from you.

His index finger slipped between your folds, while his thumb searched for your clit until he found it, and began to give circular notions. You accidentally left a little bite on his neck, which was welcomed by Rúben , as he started to speed up his thumb and slid his middle finger inside you.

“Rúbenn..” you murmured, your walls automatically tightening around his finger.

“Does this feel good, princesa?” he murmured in your ear as his thumb accelerated his movements, he slid his ring finger in as well, your walls clenching at his voice "Oh it does, you're already clenching around my fingers."

Now he had two fingers inside you, which he began to move in a come hither motion, hitting your sweet spot instantly, the one he had found in a matter of seconds.

“Oh, fuuuck, Rúb-”

He could feel you, how your walls clenched around his fingers so tightly it was hard for him to move them, your kisses on his neck had become sloppy and wet and your eyes were closed. Just when you felt you would reach the tip of ecstasy, Rúben pulled his fingers out of you.

You were about to yell at him, but he spoke first, taking your jaw with one of his hands, fixing his eyes on yours.

“I want to make you cum on my dick, yeah?”

And you swore you could've come right there. Just by his words.

“Yeah?” he questioned again, making you realize it had been more of a way to get your permission.

“Yeah.” you nodded your head eagerly and that was all he needed.

Rúben wrapped his arms around you and stood up, you instinctively wrapped your legs around his torso, biting your lip in anticipation for what was about to come.

Rúben knew the boat like the back of his hand, so in a matter of no time, both of you were in his room. Rúben placed you down on his bed, not caring in the least that you were wetting it.

He was soon close to you again, his lips on your skin. Your breathing started to become erratic, unable to control yourself in the face of the new sensations. His kisses traveled all over your neck, part of your shoulders and even on your jaw.

Without a word, Rúben grabbed you with moderate force by the jaw and caught your lips with his immediately. You lost yourself in the kiss completely, the sensation of his lips against yours stoking the fire within you even more.

Unable to stay still and wanting to discover your whole body, Rúben began to leave kisses and little bites on your neck. You tried to grab his face to bring him back to your lips, but as soon as you tried, he pulled away from you, took your wrists and put them against the bed, his face was above yours, the room was barely being illuminated by the light that was filtering through the blinds, so you couldn't see much, only the shadow of his features.

“You want me?” he asked over your lips, his voice hoarser than usual and his breathing was rapid.

“I want you. So bad.”

You saw the shadow of a victorious smile on his lips and felt them against yours again, he put both hands holding your wrists above your head, and held both of your wrists with one hand, freeing his other one.

His kisses began to descend again, with a slowness that clearly had the sole purpose of driving you crazy. You lifted your hips off the bed so you could feel some more of him, while Rúben took advantage of this and positioned himself between your legs with ease.

He stopped kissing you momentarily, you could feel his breath on your skin and without warning, he returned his hand in between your thighs and now pushed three fingers inside you, while his thumb returned to your clit, you inevitably ended up letting out a moan, as his fingers had hit the right spot again. Having located the spot already, he began to move his fingers faster and deeper, curving them from time to time, accelerating the speed of his thumb as well.

His lips went lower and lower, until his head was between your thighs and your hand was lost in his hair. His lips concentrated on your clit, sucking and circling it with his tongue, making you let out an erotic moan that you were ashamed of, because of how loud it had been.

His hand kept up that incredible rhythm, but what made you almost climax was the feeling after he sucked on your clit and bit down lightly.

“Rú- Rúben..I'm gonna-”

That was all he needed to know to remove his hand, he would keep up with his word. As soon as he moved his hand away from your pussy, you immediately felt the emptiness, but you were too busy getting back to normal to complain.

Rúben brought his fingers covered with your wetness to his lips and licked them clean, the sight of that, combined with the ‘mmm’ that he let out, was mouth watering.

Rúben pulled you closer to him, so that your legs were over his thighs, he placed his hands on the sides of your head. His dick rubbed against your entrance, which brought gasps to both of your lips.

He leaned over you and you could hear his breathing fast and heavy in your ear, it was almost like he was waiting for something.

“What's wrong?” you asked. “Are you doubt- ”

You didn't get to finish saying the sentence, because he entered you with a quick movement of his hips, making you moan immediately, it took a few seconds to get used to the sensation of having him inside you. It always did. No matter how many times you've slept together, he is just so big.

He stayed still for a few seconds, letting out hoarse mumbles of how good you felt, directly into your ear. Once you felt comfortable, you tightened your walls around him, which made him let out a grunt and start moving his hips against yours.

You brought your hands to his neck and pulled his face to yours, bringing your lips together in a desperate kiss, as his hips moved incessantly, one of your hands tangled in his hair and as if on reflex, he put a hand around your neck, squeezing the sides lightly, something that made you moan into his lips.

“How could you do this to me? All that teasing..I’m not made from steel..” he whispered in your ear.

“Rúben, oh my God..”

“I love you so much.”

His words and the movement of his hips made your eyes roll “Don't stop, babe..please.”

He pulled his face away from yours and placed his weight on the arm he had placed at the side of your head, speeding up his movements. You wrapped your legs around his waist to deepen things.

You noticed that he started to slow down, but his movements still had depth. You knew he was doing it so he wouldn't tire quickly, but maybe you could help. You used a considerable amount of strength to be able to turn you both around, ending up on top of him, while he looked at you with his lower lip between his teeth.

Just to tease him further, you slipped his dick out of you and moved away, your body hovering over his thighs. He sat down on the bed, waiting for you to do something, but you only smirked at him.

Rúben sat there while stroking himself and being done with your attitude, grabbed you by the waist and pulled you back to him, starting to fill your breasts with wet kisses and hickeys, biting your nipples from time to time, while you put your legs around him, slowly positioning yourself on top of him, again.

You knew you wouldn’t last too long, anyway.

“Stop teasing me, princesa.”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

He used the grip he had on your hips and pulled you down, entering you again, a hoarse moan came from his lips. You pushed him down by the chest so he’d lay down and began to move on top of him, in circles and up and down while his hands were on your hips and yours on his chest.

You knew those moves were only satisfying you, as you moved as you needed to, and Rúben was quick to notice that. The grip he had on your hips began to tighten, a sign that he was getting desperate. Until he finally sat down in a rush, and began to move you at the pace he wanted, as the hand he kept on your hip guaranteed him control.

“You're so stubborn, you know that?” he emphasized every word with a hip thrust.

“Fuck, fu- fuck, Rú- Rúb-..” you weren't even able to say his name, or speak at all.

You placed one hand on his shoulder and another on his neck, starting to move faster. He left sloppy kisses on your chest and you scratched his back, sometimes even left bites on his shoulder to stifle moans, especially when he murmured things in your ear, along the lines of ‘you're mine’, ‘this pussy feels so good’, ect.

It didn't take long before you two began to lose rhythm, his movements were erratic and your speed had slowed. Until he finally came inside you, seeing the way his eyes closed tightly, as heavy breaths came from between his pink lips along with the “Fuck, Y/N, you feel like heaven..” he mumbled, was what made you climax too.

While you both came down from your highs, there was nothing but silence, Rúben was still inside you and remained like that, after he turned you over, collapsed on top of you and you wrapped your arms around his body, both of you falling asleep without another word.

#ruben dias #ruben gato dias #ruben dias fic #ruben dias imagine #ruben dias imagines #ruben dias x reader #ruben dias x you #ruben dias x y/n #ruben dias smut #ruben dias fluff #football imagine #football imagines

568 notes · View notes

mysticworks · 22 days

Text

Small moments ~ Lee Know x Reader

... this is my first writing for SKZ and I'm super nervous about it - open completely to making improvements. Hope you all enjoy !

D R A B B L E

Dating an idol is hard. But its the small moments you have together that make all the tough times worth it.

Genre: Pure Fluff

------------------------------------------------------------

Nobody ever said being with an idol was easy.

Finding time, was one of the hardest things. With Lee Know having hefty schedule after schedule, and somehow, during his time off, you'd always be caught up with work.

And that made it all incredibly, incredibly difficult. Difficult to plan vacations, or take restaurant trips. Difficult to even have a day solely in each others' presence.

You’d often go months without date nights, have birthday celebrations over rushed video calls, making do with the spare moments that you had together.

You'd plan little walks in the park, or find an excuse to meet somewhere during work; like that time he was practising late for a music show, and you turned up to his practise room with a basket full of snacks.

Or when he turned up at your office, with a bouquet of flowers to make up for Valentine's day. Except he'd told your manager you were expecting a tiny guest in your family, (your manager didn't need to know this tiny guest was a rescue kitten) - and leaving work early that day became a matter of absolute urgency, which your manager didn't even try contending.

Sometimes he'd be miles and miles away performing to audiences of places you’d only ever dreamed of.

Sometimes he’d be right by your side, too deep in long overdue sleep to be woken up.

And so… every moment was precious to you.

The small comforts and little gestures, all accounted for a world’s worth of love.

And this was one of those moments too.

Lee Know lay in bed beside you, your head resting against his toned chest. He had a lazy hand thrown across your waist, spooning you into his side, the other, lacing through your hair.

His long fingers curled around random strands before loosening again.

You both lay with your eyes half closed, the dewy morning light beginning to seep in through the gap in your curtains as early hours came round once again.

The house was silent, your synched breathing the only known noise; the garden birds chirping, only secondary - background.

“Minho?” He only hummed lazily in response, not fully out of slumber and you felt the vibration from his deep sound run through the entirety of your body.

“I love you.”

You felt his arms tightening around you at your words, as if pulling you further and further into him.

Lee Know clutched at the duvet warming you both, proceeding to turn you on your side.

You faced each other now, though still in his arms - his eyes swept across your face, taking in every small detail - he wanted to memorise each pore, each mole, each and every line etched on your face.

It would be a while before you could do this again.

He placed the smallest of kisses onto your forehead; a faint peck that left your skin tingling.

“Of course you love me, look at me.”

You gave his chest a playful thump, rolling your eyes. “You’re supposed to say ‘I love you too’, dummy.”

He gave you a goofy smile, before pulling you into himself, his lips now brushing against your ear.

In an almost silent whisper, he spoke the words you wanted to hear, “I love you too,” before deciding to add a playful, “sometimes,” at the end.

That earned him another thump, before you both broke out into a fit of sleepy giggles.

#lee know #stray kids #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #skz #skz imagines #skz fluff #lee know fluff #lee minho #skz stay #skz scenarios #lee know x reader #lee know imagines #lee felix #lee know smut #bang chan #chris bang #han jisung

156 notes · View notes

venomous-ragno · 1 year

Text

Ghost and König with a reader who has a big dog

Tags: Ghost x reader, König x reader, gn!reader, domestic, fluff

Warnings: None

König

• Puppy. Big puppy.

• Immediately drops into a baby talking your dog, petting him and asking all kinds of questions.

• Will buy a pack of dog treats and keep in on him at all times; you gotta remind him not to feed it too many treats.

• Your dog will love this man. König has the stamina to spend hours playing and walking the dog.

• Easily picks your dog up and cuddles him like it's nothing. Motivates himself during workouts that he's got to be strong to pick up that cute pupper of yours.

• Genuinely doesn't get how other people can be scared of dogs.

• Will invite the dog to sleep on your shared bed. Pouts when you say no.

• Good luck fighting for space with those two. They're big and will take up enough space to squeeze you to death; on the other hand though it's wonderfully warm in winter, but actual hell in summer.

• Beach trips anyone? König will take you and the dog up to the Nordsee, where he spent many vacations with his family as a kid. There's dog friendly beaches and good ice cream, what's not to love?

• König tries to call and text as much as he can when on deployment. He asks how you're holding up and in the bext breath demands a photo of you and your dog. He'll set is as his phone background.

Ghost

• More cynical than König.

• He's fought his fair share of trained dogs and knows how deadly they can be at the snap of a finger.

• He won't be mean to your dog or anything, but he'll keep a respectable distance until he grows fond of it.

• Dad and the pet he didn't want vibes.

• Very strict in terms of training, playtime or even simple commands.

• Despite that, the water bowl will always have clean, fresh water in it and food will be given right on time.

• The dog has its own resting place. Not on the bed though, never on the bed.

• Okay, maybe he's caved in and let the dog sleep on the bed with him once when you were gone-

• You can babytalk the dog as much as you like, Simon may raise a brow but will remain indifferent to it. But don't you start calling it the nicknames that are reserved for him and him only, you hear?

• Strong advocate of taking the dog with you on vacation. Goes out of his way to make arrangements so it can travel as comfortably as possible, but will grumble when you tease him about it.

• Soon he'll be called into action again. Simon leaves yet again in the name of duty, and it's tough to say goodbye - but he can rest easy now, knowing that you're well protected even when he's gone.

Tag list:

@greenkiki @simli.gul

#call of duty #call of duty fanfic #call of duty headcanons #cod mw2 imagine #call of duty x you #call of duty könig #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader

1K notes · View notes

boldlyvoid · 9 months

Text

Love Story

Spencer Reid x Fem Reader

Summary: About a week into knowing her, Spencer knew he wanted to marry her one day. So, for her birthday, at The Eras Tour, he kneels to the ground and pulls out a ring...

Warnings: allusions to sex, stupid couple fights, Spencer spoiling her, roadtrips, food and drink mention, talks of the future (future kids) proposals.

a/n: this fic is for my best friend in the whole worlds birthday. @reidsbookclub, i love you, i hope you have the best time at your concert tonight <3

Word Count: 6k

Set in the Sweet Nothing Universe

He’s been in Reno for 3 months and dating Y/N for 3 months now, too.

They practically live together now that it’s summer vacation for her. She took on some kids for tutoring, and she sees them a few hours a week whenever they have time. She mostly goes to their houses or meets them at the public library, which is right next door to his work. She brings him in a coffee or a snack whenever she’s in town, they have lunches together and she even stays a little longer in town so she can drive him home afterwards.

It’s been wonderful.

Everyone at work knows her, they call her Mrs. Reid as a joke and she thinks it's cute… Spencer, on the other hand, wishes she was his wife so, so bad. It’s way too early to ask her, even if he knows in his heart that she’s the one for him. So he’s waiting. He’s not sure how long he’ll wait. He doesn’t even know if she wants to get married one day. He still has some things to learn about her.

Her birthday is coming up, soon, he knows that much. He actually learned about her birthday when Penelope was first telling him all about her. August 4th, making her a Leo, the lion sign, even though she’s as gentle as a flower.

They haven’t planned anything for her birthday yet, it's still a couple of weeks away. He knows she’s told her kids that she’ll be busy from the 3rd to the 6th, taking 4 days just to herself, she wasn’t planning on doing anything. Spencer wants to treat her to something so bad. Be it a nice dinner, a gift she wants or a trip somewhere. So he takes those 4 days off too, he books it in advance with his boss, it’s approved and now he just has to plan something.

During one of his lunch breaks that she isn’t sitting in on, he takes out his phone and calls up Penelope. Having known Y/N longer, she’s the perfect person to discuss ideas with.

“Spencer my lovely! What are you doing calling me at 3pm on a weekday?” She answers full of cheer.

“Y/N’s birthday is coming up, I need your expert advice on what to get her,” he heads right into it, skipping all the niceties, he only cares about her.

“Taylor Swift tickets, duh!”

“I tried that months ago, they sold out way too fast,” he complains. “We missed the Vegas show 'cause I obviously didn’t know her in March, all she has left are the Seattle and California shows… but again, they’re all sold out and the resale tickets are insane.”

“Hey, six grand for 2 tickets with the love of your life is so worth it,” Penelope teases. “I might have a connection to the Inglewood show… maybe I can see if they have any last-minute tickets?”

“How do you have a ticket connection?”

“My brother's wife works for Ticketmaster, she said they save some tickets for important people until the last minute and if they’re not taken, they get released to the general public and you can get better deals if you call Ticketmaster instead of going online,” she explains. “I’ll give her a call, I’ll see what she can do.”

“Okay, call me back when you know more?”

“Will do, Spence-roo,” she says before hanging up, making him smile.

—

He goes home to Y/N’s apartment that night, they have a home-cooked meal together and they settle down on the couch to watch something on TV and just relax for the rest of the night.

She’s cuddled into Spencer’s side watching TikTok on her phone. She scrolled and scrolled and scrolled, barely watching anything for more than 30 seconds and then she stops on one. Spencer can hear the music and the cheering, it’s a tour video. He peeks over to it, watching as someone proposed to their girlfriend in the middle of Love Story.

She likes it, opens the comments and congratulated them. The next words out of his mouth are barely in his control. They just tumble out.

“Do you ever think about getting married?”

She smiles up at him, “To you? Absolutely.”

He pulls her in for a kiss. She locks her phone and tosses it to the side so she can climb into his lap and kiss him some more. His hands migrate to her hips, and she runs her fingers through his ever-growing hair. Making out with her on the couch, she lightly grinds against him, he hums into the kiss, breaking it to kiss her jaw along to her ear.

“I’d want to marry you too…”

She cups his face, staring him down, “Ask me whenever you’re ready.”

“It’s not too soon?”

She shakes her head, “No… I mean, people will probably think you knocked me up because of how fast we’ve moved but, it’s been 3 months. We know everything about each other, we sleep beside each other every single night, and I never want to break up with you. The next logical move would be to get married.”

He steals another kiss, “I think,” he kisses her again on her jaw again, making his way down her neck, “You’re right.”

She smiles, letting him go down to her boobs, “about people thinking you got me knocked up?”

He laughs against her, “I mean, we fuck so often—

“No, don’t even joke,” she pulls his attention back to her. “You can’t get me pregnant just randomly, I don’t have enough money to pay for my substitute. You’d have to knock me up so I can have the baby in the summer…”

He laughs, “You’re not serious, right?”

“I’m completely serious. I don’t get maternity leave, I have to have summer babies if I want to keep my job.”

“I have money,” he reminds her. “If we get married it becomes our money, you’d never have to worry about anything ever again.”

She settles slightly, her shoulders drop again and she stares at him so softly, “I’d still worry, you know me.”

He kisses her again, reaching up to brush her hair back, “I’m going to take care of you for the rest of your life… and if we ever had kids, you know I’d do the same for them.”

“Do you want kids, like genuinely?” She asks. “Cause I know you love Henry and you said that you thought about having them with Maeve but—

“I want you to have my babies… whenever you’re ready,” he tosses the phrase back to her.

That does it, she dives back in for another kiss, heating it up tenfold, he cradles her head and back, leaning down against the couch so he can hover over her. Working the button on her jeans open, he starts to tug on them when his phone rings. He wants to just let it ring, but it’s Penelope's ringtone. He hasn’t changed it, no matter how long he hasn’t worked with her, it’s still the same thing.

“Hold on,” he whispers, trying to pull away.

“Leave it,” she tugs him back in. She gets a few more kisses in and then he pulls back further.

“I can’t, I’m sorry, I have to take this,” he reaches out to grab his phone off the coffee table and walks out of the apartment to take the call.

“Hello?”

“Hey, sorry, I know it’s late,” Penelope answers. “But I have good news. We were able to pull some strings and I got you 2 floor tickets for the 4th.”

“No way?” He’s gobsmacked.

“Way!! I gave her your information, the tickets are in your name and they’re being mailed to you so you’ll have physical tickets. You can just pay me back.”

“What was the damage?”

“they were $1800 each…”

“That’s a lot better than the resale price,” he’s so glad. “Thank you, Penny, really, she’s going to love this.”

“Hey, she was my friend first, I’d do anything for her,” Penny teases. “Now go back to hanging out with her, I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“thank you, we love you,” he reminds her.

“I love you too!” And then she’s gone.

He heads back inside and she’s no longer on the couch. The tv is off, all the lights are out, and she’s retreated back to the bedroom. He knocks before he enters, “Hey… sorry about that.”

“It’s fine,” she says, clearly a bit upset. “I get it, works more important that me sometimes.”

“No, no it’s not… and that wasn’t work.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better? Cause it doesn’t.”

He timidly walks towards her, “Hey, hey, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have walked out on you like that. I know. But it was important… it’s for your birthday, that’s all I can say.”

She bites back a smile, looking him dead in the eyes. “Really?”

He nods, “You still have from the 3rd to the 6th off, right?”

She nods, “I do… why?”

“I’ll tell you more when the day gets closer, just, don’t plan anything, I want to make this special. This is our first birthday together, I want to celebrate you.”

“Okay, you’re forgiven,” she gives in, she rushes over to him and tosses her arms around his neck. “But next time it rings and you’re about to go down on me, it can wait.”

“It definitely can,” he agrees, picking her up, he tosses her onto the bed. “Let me make it up to you.”

—

She watches the era’s tour live streams on TikTok every weekend, she favourites outfits that she’d want to wear and she tells Spencer all about the surprise songs that she’d want to hear live one day.

What she doesn’t know is that Spencer has memorized everything she’s said and he’s been using it to his advantage. He’s found her Pinterest board with eras tour dream outfits, and he’s made a playlist of her favourite songs so he’ll be able to sing along no matter what surprise songs happen. And he’s started to buy tour outfits for himself too.

He puts a lot of work into her tour outfit, too. It’s midnights themed, he got her a denim jacket with the back panel cut out and replaced with a starry lace pattern. He bought iron on paper and printed out her favourite lyrics to iron onto the arms and put stars on a pair of dark blue Converse. He’s even been making friendship bracelets while on his lunch break at work. He just hasn’t been able to decide on what to get her to wear under the jacket and with the shoes. Nothing seems to be perfect enough.

He’s walking home from work one night when he passes a window display full of sparkly dresses. He just doesn’t want to get her the wrong size. So he has the bright idea to take one of Y/N's dresses with him to the store to compare sizes. Trying to steal one of her dresses… that’s going to be difficult.

“I have a question for you,” he asks that night at dinner. “But you can’t ask any follow-up questions or anything, okay?”

“Alright..?”

“Can I have one of your dresses to compare to a dress I want to buy you for your birthday?”

She swoons, “Yeah… or you could take my measurements?”

“Either way, I just want to make sure it fits.”

And so that night she gives him one of her favourite dresses. She tells him the size she prefers in different fabrics and he makes a mental note of every single thing she says.

The next day, he brings the dress to work with him, people want to ask questions but they don’t. He makes it through the day, walks out of work with the dress and right into the store he saw yesterday.

The shop owner clocks him right away, noticing the dress, she thinks he’s making a return.

“Hi, how can I help you?”

“I’m surprising my girlfriend with Taylor Swift tickets for her birthday and I’m trying to plan her outfit, too, and the dress in the window is perfect! I brought in one of her other dresses, just to compare sizing so I get it right,” he explains.

“Oh my god, aren’t you the dream boyfriend?” She teases. “Can I see that?”

He places it on the counter for her, she takes a look at the tag and holds it up, “I think I have the window dress in this size… what era are you going for?”

“I made her a jacket in the Midnights aesthetic and her shoes are evermore,” he shares. “The dress in the window is kinda mirrorball-esque, I like it.”

“You know your shit,” she can’t believe it. “Do you have an outfit picked out?”

He shakes his head. “No, I can’t decide if I want to do fearless or lover…”

“You could do both, get a puffy Romeo shirt and some pink pants, that would be cute?”

“Yeah, yeah I like that idea… you know the Lover album cover, the heart she has around her eye? How would I do that?” He asks, he hasn’t had someone to talk to about any of this, so he’s taking a chance and asking everything.

She’s really helpful, she’s able to get him the dress in the right size, show him where he can get adhesive sparkles for the face, helps him plan his own outfit and even get some accessories too. He spends a fair bit of money in her store and he thanks her.

“I’m going to bring her back here after the tour, maybe she can get her engagement party dress here,” he suggests.

“Wait, are you going to ask her to marry you at the show?”

He nods, “During love story.”

“She’s one lucky girl,” the shop owner swoons again. She’s overjoyed for them. “If you bring her back here for that I’ll give you a discount, that’s the sweetest thing in the world. I really hope she says yes.”

“Me too.”

—

He stole a piece of her costume jewelry when she wasn’t looking, a ring she typically wears on her right ring finger and brings it with him to all the jewelry shops he goes to. Finding a ring that feels like Y/N is hard. He wants it to be perfect, he wants it to be big and pretty and something she’ll show off to everyone. He wants it to be a ring that will stay in style for the next 50 years, he wants it to last.

He’s looked at a million styles, every colour and cut imaginable… but nothing seems right. He knows the kind of rings she likes from her Pinterest, but even they don’t seem to fit what he imagines for them. This ring is supposed to symbolize their love and their relationship. It has to be perfect.

He finds the ring on Etsy of all places. It was his last chance to get a ring. There were only 2 weeks until her birthday and he had to make sure the ring was in his possession before they took their trip to LA.

The ring comes in two parts, one ring for the engagement and the other for the wedding. The wedding band perfectly encompasses the engagement ring, making the main ring look like it has little leaves coming out from around it.

He gets them in white gold, the main stone is a man-made, oval-shaped diamond and the stones around it are man-made opal, 4 on each side to be exact, shaped like little diamonds. The wedding band also has man-made stones, in green. Together, they look perfect. He has them expedited, he pays the artist top dollar to make sure they’re at his house by August 1st and he prays they make it.

—

She picks him up after work on July 31st and when they arrive at his house, there’s a package sitting on his front step. Part of him is furious that they just left it, they didn’t leave a drop-off notice and take it back to the UPS store for safekeeping, the rest of him is relieved that it made it. Y/N on the other hand, is nosey. She wants to know what he ordered. She’s curious as to why he didn’t want to open it in front of her, but she doesn’t bring it up again once he hides it in his room.

They’re in the middle of cooking dinner when she wraps her arms around him, stands on her tip-toes and rests her head on his shoulder to watch him stir around the pan. “Can I ask a question about my birthday?” She pries slightly.

“Depends on the question.”

“Do I have to pack a bag or anything?” She asks the first question.

“Yeah… I got us an Airbnb for the few days we’re taking off work,” he explains, not giving away too much.

“Okay, and what should I pack?”

“Underwear, pyjamas, comfy clothes,” he lists off a few things. “Makeup and whatever you want to do with your hair… I’m going to tell you what’s happening the day of, you’ll have a few hours to plan for each event.”

“Each event?” She picks that out.

He just nods, “You’ll find out more later.”

“Fine,” she sighs, resting her chest against his back now, she holds him tighter. “I’m going to go all out for your birthday too, you know.”

“I know… we’re kind of obsessed with each other,” he teases.

“I think it’s called love,” she reminds him.

“You’re right… I do love you a lot,” he says as he spins around in her grip and hugs her close, kissing her neck gently. “I love you so much.”

She hums happily, “I love you too, sneaky man. It’s killing me that I don’t know what’s happening but I trust you.”

“Good,” he pulls back and cups her cheek. “How would you feel leaving late on the 2nd instead of early on the 3rd?”

“We can do that, I know you prefer driving at night,” she knows him well. “We can pack after work and leave once we’re done.”

“I will be packed the day before,” he teases. “I’m not a last-minute man.”

“Oh, I know, you don’t do anything lightly, but I might need help packing,” she reminds him. “You can help me pick out accessories and shoes to match whatever you got me.”

“You think I didn't get you shoes and accessories? Have you seen me?” He teases, that’s one thing she loves about him. He’s always matching.

She just laughs, “Of course you did.”

—

Spencer walks from his apartment to hers with 2 suitcases, one for his own things and one just for their eras tour outfits. He has her second key fob, so he unlocks her car when he arrives and puts his things in the backseat and heads up to her apartment. He knocks once but ultimately lets himself in. “Babe?”

“Bedroom!” She calls back, letting him know where she is.

“Hey…”

“So I’ve played out a bunch of outfits, what ones will be good for what you have planned?”

“Anything is good, I have your outfit for the main event planned, the rests are dinners, brunches and us driving to and from California.”

“We’re going to California?” She can’t believe it… but then she clues in. “Oh my god, Spencer, why are we going to California?”

He shrugs, “I don’t know, you tell me?”

“I’m going to lose my mind if we’re doing what I think we’re doing,” she explains, rushing to his side, she places her hands on his shoulders, “I’m going to go nuts.”

“I have no idea what you’re referring to…”

She can’t believe him, she just hugs him and holds him there, “Oh, you’re so cute when you try to lie to me, I love you so much.”

“I love you,” he hugs her back, kissing the top of her head. “Now, hurry up and pack, we can check into the Airbnb after 10pm tonight, if we leave now we could be there by midnight?”

And so they pack her up, they check the apartment to make sure everything is off and all the widows are closed and they head out. She locks the door, he brings her suitcase down to the car and she lets him drive. He’s a lot more comfortable on the road at night, he takes them out of Reno, down Highway 695 towards Carson City. They see Bridgeport, Willow Springs, Mammoth and Crowley Lake, Big Pine, Independence, Long Pine and then they stop for gas and a snack. He drives from Long Pine to Ridgecrest and then they pass through Mojave around 11:30.

They’re in the home stretch now. She knows exactly what’s happening when they go through Santa Clara. She can see on their GPS that by taking the 405 south they’ll end up in Inglewood in just a few minutes.

He got them a cute little Airbnb just a stone's throw from the stadium, they’d be able to walk to and from if they wanted to. Once he parks outside of it, she turns to him with tears in her eyes. “How did you manage to do this?”

“Penelope,” he says with a smile. “She knows someone at Ticketmaster, they got me really good tickets for the 4th. I bought you an outfit, I made myself one, too… I know how badly you wanted to see her so I made it happen.”

“You really are the man of my dreams,” she swoons. “Thank you.”

“I’d do anything for you,” he reminds her. Meaning every word.

“I know… now let’s get all our shit inside so I can give you a proper thank you.”

—

They spend their first day there just looking around. They have brunch at a cute little spot she’s always wanted to try, they visit the National History Museum and Exposition Park. It’s a lovely day where they just get to hold hands and be together. They order dinner to their Airbnb and eat while watching TV and then they spend another night in bed together. It’s perfect.

When they wake up on the 4th, Spencer smothers her in kisses and wishes her a happy birthday… they don’t leave the bed for a while after that.

He orders her breakfast and while they’re waiting for it, he shows her the outfit he has picked out for her. The dress, her jacket, the shoes, a cute little clear purse for the stadium and a lot of sparkly makeup options for whatever she wants to do.

“Spencer, this is perfect?” She’s amazed by it all. “How did you know?”

“I found your Pinterest,” he shrugs. “and you always show me cute outfits on TikTok, I took a lot of inspiration from what I knew you’d like and your favourite songs to make this… and these,” he pulls out a ziplock bag full of bracelets. All handmade. All perfect.

She spreads all the bracelets out on their bed, and she reads each and every single one. He has sent titles, lyrics and abbreviations, even quotes from Taylor that he’s memorized from how many times she’s watched Miss Americana on her days off. “Spence, how am I going to part with these?”

He shrugs, “Don’t trade your favourites? Maybe leave any special ones here?”

“Yeah, I guess I could do that… I can’t believe you went through all the trouble of making these just for me, seriously, when did you have the time?”

“On my lunch breaks,” he laughs to himself. “I had no idea what I was doing and then Keesha, our undercover girl, showed me how to make them better.”

“Everything is perfect, Spence,” she stands and wraps her arms around him, holding him close. “This is going to be the best night of my life.”

She really had no idea.

“I was thinking we could maybe go get our nails done,” he says as she pulls away. “We don’t have to be at the stadium till 6, I think it would be nice to get some eras nails done? I might even get some colour?”

“Yeah, that sounds amazing!” She agrees, not thinking anything of it.

He really just wants her to think her nails are pretty when he slips the ring onto her finger later tonight.

He already made the appointment with a local nail salon for 1pm, giving them enough time to head back to their Airbnb and get ready for the show and maybe even get something to eat before they go. He’s such a planner. She loved every second of it, it made her less stressed to know that he already knew everything that was going on and he was confident about it too.

He gets his nails done as well. He’s always wanted to but never had the chance to. He gets just basic gel while she goes all out with a shorter acrylic shape, she gets sparkles and stars all in the 10 different album colours and she loves them. She keeps staring at them the whole walk home, she loves how they sparkle in the light and how pretty the shape makes her hand look.

The ring is going to look even better on her hand now.

They shower together back at their place, Spencer watches in awe as she does her hair and her makeup and it’s not until the end that he hands her the adhesive sparkles and asks her to help him put the lover heart around his eye.

“What did you plan for your outfit?” She asks while carefully sticking each sparkle to his face.

“I got some bright pink pants, like, highlighter pink, bright,” he smirks. “I also bought a puffy shirt like Romeo… I wanted to go for Lover Story.”

She laughs, “Oh you’re going to look good.”

“I also bought cowboy boots…”

“You didn’t,” she can’t believe it. “What colour?”

“Pink.”

“Oh my god, Spence… really?”

“well like you said Lover and Midnights go together like they were planned to be back to back and you’re my other half so I wanted us to match… and then I’m partly fearless which came after Evermore which is on your shoes, so, it all matches.”

“I love you,” she cups his face gently, “like it’s insane how much I love you.”

“It’s not insane. It’s the perfect amount,” he teases, pulling her in for a kiss.

—

She doesn’t know they have front-row seats until they’re at the stadium getting their tickets checked. The best part of her reaction at the gate is that she thinks this is the last surprise… she’s so overjoyed with the thought of being that close to Taylor Swift that she can’t even fathom him proposing tonight.

From all the Tiktok's that she’s watched since March, she knows that the best time to go to the merch stands isn’t before the concert. It’s during. So, on their way to their seats, they simply buy some overpriced drinks and trade a couple friendship bracelets before heading towards their seats. She looks around with her mouth agape, amazed at how big the place is and how much of the stage takes up the floor.

At their seats, she shakes her head and lets out an exasperated laugh, “I can’t believe you got these?”

“Only the best for my girl,” he teases, wrapping his arm around her, he brings her in and kisses the top of her head. “I love you, Happy birthday.”

“I love you,” she smiles up at him. “Thank you for this, really. I’m going to thank you a million times.”

“You don’t have to,” he waves it off. “I wanted to come too, you know, she’s a big reason we’re together in the first place.”

“If only we could tell her thank you,” she laughs.

“We should’ve made a sign,” he teases.

“We should’ve…” she agrees. “Maybe I can just put big text on my phone and hold it up to her?”

“That could work.”

So that’s what she does, sitting in her seat, waiting for the opener, she drafts a few things to say while the stadium starts to fill up.

It takes a while before someone behind them actually shows up. Spencer worried there for a moment that the seats behind him didn’t sell and thus part of his plan for tonight would be ruined… but then a couple girls, in their teens, show up just before HIAM comes out to play.

Spencer takes something from his pocket, pretends to reach between their seats to the floor and turns back to one of the girls. “Um, I think you dropped this,” Spencer says to the girls behind them, he hands them a note and a $5 bill. Y/N watches him hand it back to them and then turns right back to watching the openers play.

“Oh thanks,” the girl says with a smile. She opens the note and her eyes widen as she reads it.

‘Can you please record me and my future fiancé during love story? I have an important question to ask her and I want to remember it forever.’ And his number at the bottom.

She looks at Spencer with her eyes full of tears and nods, mouthing “I can do that.”

He gives her a thumbs up and turns back to watching the show. HAIM are a band he’s heard Y/N play before, he’s surprised how many words he knows just from being around her. They’re amazing and he knows that because they’re on the tour now, that means their song with Taylor has been added to the setlist. He really likes that one, even if it is about premeditated murder.

He knows the setlist like the back of his hand. It starts with Lover, the intro is a remix of all her eras names over top of the song Miss Americana and The Heartbreak Prince, the dancers wear these big sheets of fabric, peacocking around the stage and then they cover the middle of the main diamond stage. Once they lift the sheets back up, however, Taylor emerges onto the stage and the crowd goes wild.

He’s seen the show on Tiktok live so many times that he’s okay with missing it in person, instead, he watches her. He watches the way she stares at Taylor like she hung the stars and the moon herself. Like she’s some sort of god and everyone here is blessed to be in her presence. She cries, shaking her head in disbelief, she chants the words back to her and doesn’t even realize Spencer has been staring at her the whole time.

“Look how close she is,” Y/N bumps his shoulder and points. “She’s literally right there.”

“I know,” he smiles, so in love with her he couldn’t even pay attention to Taylor.

When Cruel Summer starts, she screams so loud, Spencer’s sure she’s going to lose her voice tomorrow. He finally starts paying attention to the show now. Singing along, he knows all the words. He actually really loves this song. And the man. He loves everything from Lover simply because he’s so deeply, deeply in love.

Post-lover, Taylor heads in for a costume change and thats when Spencer starts to feel anxious. He’s 2 songs away from his big moment. He checks his pockets, he still has the ring, in its box staying safe, it’s right there and ready to go. He almost blacks out for most of Fearless, he snaps back into it for You Belong With Me and the first note to Love Story gets his heart beat racing a million miles a minute.

He looks back at the girl behind him who has her phone out already she smiles at him, nodding like she’s ready to go and he takes a deep breath. Taylors walking down the catwalk, she’s going to be literally right in front of them when he gets down on one knee… he doesn’t think she’s seen a proposal this close and in person yet on this tour? Maybe she’ll notice them?

He sings along, genuinely loving the song and it steadies him a little. Y/N is singing too, jumping up and down and pointing at Taylor during all the best parts. She’s having the time of her life… she has no idea what’s coming.

The second chorus comes and he reaches into his pocket, he’s holding the box in his hand and his heart is in his throat.

“And I got tired of waiting… wondering if you were ever coming around, my faith in you was fading! When I met you on the outskirts of town!” Y/N sings along. “And I said Romeo save me I’ve been feeling so alone I keep waiting for you but you never come is this in my head I don’t know what to think, he kneels to the ground and pulled out a ring and—

She notices then that he’s dropped to one knee, following the song, he holds open the little black box and she screams. Everyone in their section is screaming. “Marry me, Juliet, you’ll never have to be alone I love you and that’s all I really know!” Spencer sings along to the song.

She’s frozen, can’t believe this is happening and real but she looks at the ring and then at him, her eyes full of tears. “Yes!!! Yes, I’ll marry you!!” She gets down to the ground with him and pulls him into a kiss, he smiles into it, happier than he’s ever been in his whole life.

When she pulls back he takes the ring from the box and slides it onto her ring finger. He helps her back to her feet and all she can do is stare at it. “Holy shit?”

“I love you!” He shouts, loud enough for everyone to hear. “I want to love you forever.”

She pulls him into another hug, not even noticing that Taylor did see it. She pointed at them, she got excited and there was footage of it from a million different angles that she’ll get to see later. She finishes the song, running back to make her mark and then she disappears once again to get ready for Evermore.

Y/N snuggles into his side, her left hand resting on his chest, she keeps pulling her hand back to look at it. There’s just enough quiet between eras that she asks, “Where did you get it? It’s beautiful.”

“Etsy,” he says with a smile. “It was on my doorstep the other day when you came over.”

“No way?” She laughs, “how long have you been planning this?”

“Since I asked you how you felt about getting married one day,” he admits.

She stands on her tiptoes and leans in for another kiss, “I Love you.”

“I love you,” he reminds her. “Forever and always… but I actually mean that.”

She laughs, “god, you really are the number 1 fearless stan, aren’t you?”

He’s about to reply when the girls behind him poke him in the back, “Hey!” They both turn around. “I texted you the video and my friend got the other angle of Taylor's reaction!”

“She saw it?!” Y/N freaks out.

They nod, freaking out with her, “Yeah!! She pointed at you guys and she was so happy!!”

“Holy shit!” Y/N shouts for the second time. “This is the best day of my fucking life, how does it keep getting better?”

“I don’t know man, but congrats!” The girl says. “You guys are so cute together.”

“Thank you,” they say at the same time.

She looks at him this time like he hung the stars. If you told him just 4 months ago that he’d find the love of his life and get engaged to her at a Taylor Swift concert of all places, he would’ve laughed… now he can’t imagine his life going any other way.

This is where he was always supposed to be.

General Taglist

@ncsls0515 @stevesmunsons @reidsbookclub @sweetyyhippyy @manuosorioh @mrs-dr-reid @k-k0129 @squishyturtle @katsukis1wife @babybisexual @marsmunson86 @buckleyhans

#Spencer reid #Spencer reid smut #Spencer reid fanfiction #Spencer reid fanfic #Spencer reid imagine #Spencer reid x reader #Spencer reid x y/n #Spencer reid x you #Spencer reid self insert #Spencer reid request #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine

441 notes · View notes