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candied-cae · 10 months

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And Who Are We At The End Of The World? - Please, Be Gentle with My Breaks - III

Chapter 18/? - - - Read it on AO3

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Word Count: 10,480

Summary: There's a difference between being broken and having a few breaks. But a lot of these kids and been dealt a lot of blows, and not just from physical monsters of the Upside Down. There's still a lot of stuff hidden just under the surface that they haven't been able to show just yet.

TW: Depictions of PTSD - Triggering events and flashbacks

More ST Fics

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Friday morning - the morning Family Video was set to re-open its doors and begin taking business again - had finally come.

It was a sunny morning. The kind that starts with birds chirping from the trees and the smell of coffee drifting from the kitchen. Robin and Steve had made plans to be at the store early, a few hours before opening, to eat breakfast together in the back office and take care of any possible final business that could come up. It was going to be a very good day. They'd decided that much.

Robin was still asleep and a little while away from starting that very good day when a noise that was less pleasant than birdsong rattled through her window.

It had been a week since the morning after the earthquake, and the construction crews had finally made their way to the suburbs near the Buckleys to take care of refortifying, structural concerns, and general repairs. One such house that required their attention, was the neighbor's from right behind them. The one that happened to be closest to the wall of Robin's room.

She was woken up when the racket started.

There was yelling, the workers shouting across distances and making their plans. Her neighbor's house had a lot of worry. She usually wouldn't mind the yelling that much. She could ignore it until Steve arrived to whisk her away. But she had been asleep and would've liked to stay that way. And all the noise outside made it impossible to fall back asleep. So she rolled out of bed and pulled her thin, red curtains closed, trying to block out just a little bit of the early morning sun.

It was about then that the foreman of the crew grunted with displeasure and came to a decision.

“Too much mess here. The whole foundation's got cracks in it, I don't like the way these wooden support beams are splinting, these warps in the flooring don't look good, and that roof damage is only going to get worse with bad weather. Call the homeowners. They can bitch about the facts all they want, but this house is going to be next with the demo team and need a complete reconstruction before anyone moves back in.”

Robin had already finished getting ready. She was washed up and dressed, and finally, the noise softened. Maybe they were done for the day. And she probably had another hour before Steve would be rolling around. So she dove back under her covers and tucked them in around her. Closing her eyes and drifting back off to sleep for just a little bit longer before she'd be taken away from her warm, comfy bed, and would be made to face the daunting trials of customer service.

Maybe forty minutes later, Robin was in that slippery state between sleep and awareness while the heavy machinery of a demolition team rolled down the street. All at once, those titans of force began to unmake the house right behind theirs. So close to where she peacefully slept. And the house did not go down easy.

Robin was startled awake in a red-tinted room, with the impossibly loud sound of destruction erupting from right behind her. The strength of it was rumbling the bed under her body, accompanied by the shriek of over-used and under-cared-for mechanical parts.

And all of it just sent her.

It felt like Thursday night. In the Upside Down. Where the red-tinted sky opened up above her, and the ground shook under her feet so hard she almost fell over. When the groans of an old house moved around her and filled up her ears. Until it all became echoes of screams instead.

Lucas's screams.

“Erica! Call for help!”

She felt it. She felt the fear again. Like it was all occurring to her for the first time.

Max was dead. Lucas was hurt. Eddie was going to die.

Her hands started shaking. She felt the sweat stick to the back of her neck, on her forehead under her bangs. Her arms and legs almost felt numb- or maybe they felt disconnected from her? They didn't feel right. Or useable.

She was frozen. And she tried to reason with herself. Thursday night was Thursday night. It was over a week ago. It all already happened, and she's supposed to be fine. She's in her room.

But as she looked around, none of it seemed familiar. It all looked foreign. Alien. It even started to look like the room was covered in vines, and dust, and cobwebs.

And she was alone. Steve and Nancy weren't there with her. By her side. Helping her run through the terror anyway.

She was alone.

A tear slipped down her cheek, and then one of the neighbor's walls went down. Everything shook even worse. And while she was petrified just a second ago, she was then thrown into urgency. She all but pushed herself out of the bed and backed up under the frame. In the little space between the floorboards and the box spring. She just tried to crawl further and further back, closing herself into something small and hidden.

Nothing bad should be able to find her under there.

She started crying harder.

Somewhere in it, her parents started asking questions. Asking if she wanted any breakfast before she left. Trying to make sure she was still up. Wondering why she wasn't answering. But none of it reached her. She just stared straight forward, trying desperately to cover her ears and make it stop. She just needed it all to stop. But all she felt was the tremble. And all she heard were the screams.

Her dad opened her door. He and her mom poured into her room and kneeled on the floor to find her down there under her bed. They tried talking to her. To figure out what was happening. None of them understood why it was happening.

Max was dead. Lucas was hurt. Erica was in danger. Eddie was going to die. Dustin was limping. Steve was bleeding.

Nothing was okay. And Robin was alone.

Steve's car rolled to a stop in front of the Buckleys. But Robin wasn't sitting, waiting for him on the stoop. She probably just woke up late and needed another minute, or two, to finish getting ready. They were going in early anyway.

Steve wasn't in any rush.

So he just sat in the driveway. Letting the radio play through “You're Much Too Soon” by Hall and Oats. But still, as the song ended and the host announced that The Cars would be playing next, Robin wasn't outside.

Which was starting to seem unusual. He'd never waited very long for her to run out. It's not like she was someone to go to a rager and be hungover the next morning. And there was no way she had something with Vickie that went so late she couldn't wake up. At least no way she wouldn't have mentioned it to him.

He wasn't sure what her deal was, but he still didn't really want to risk getting Mrs. Buckley's stink eye by knocking on the door. A person only makes that mistake once. So he shrugged to himself and honked his horn in two short bursts. To make sure she knew he was there. Not to sound passive-aggressive, but maybe she forgot what time they planned on leaving.

And in that dark space between what was happening and the memory playing over reality, Steve's car broke through.

Robin knew that beep.

From all the times she was already packed into his car after closing, and he was taking too long to lock the door to Family Video, so she'd lean over to the driver's seat and honk at him from his own car. From every time they'd gotten talked into running one or a couple of the kids somewhere, and they were taking their sweet time, so he'd honk at them. From any time someone peeled out past a stop sign in front of them, Steve would curse, ask how much they think his car is worth, and he'd honk at them because he couldn't expect an answer.

Robin knew the sound of Steve's Beemer.

Which meant Steve was there.

That was the only thing she could grasp and hold on to. Steve was there. Somewhere out of sight, but there. Steve was there, so she wasn't alone.

“Steve? STEVE?” she called for him. Past her parents that didn't fit the picture in front of her, she yelled for her best friend to fill in.

Just when Steve was really starting to wonder what was up, he saw Robin's father open the door.

“There's something wrong with her!” he shouted, looking more scared than grown-ups usually let him see.

And Steve didn't even think he'd ever run so fast for anything. Before he could even worry about what specifically could be wrong, before he could worry about the Buckleys not being his biggest fans, before he could worry about not technically having been invited inside their house - he was through the front door and following the sound of Robin's voice down the hallway to her room. Where her mother was crouched on the floor trying to reason with where Robin must've been under her bed.

He just shucked the jacket off his arms and scooted himself under there beside her.

“Hey. Hey, Rob. I'm here. It's me.”

She looked at him. And he made sense. As much as all of it didn't make sense, Steve being there with her while she felt terrified? That made sense.

Robin's fingers released a sweater that had been lost under her bed and instead grabbed onto the short sleeve of Steve's white shirt.

“Steve. Steve, it's- i- it's shaking. Everything is…”

“I know. I know, it is.” He nodded with her,” But, hey, I’m right here with you. Okay?”

There was barely enough room for the width of their bodies under there. But even so, Steve untucked his arm from beside him and pushed it into the space over Robin. He held her tight around her shoulders, her hand still twisted in the fabric of his shirt. She was probably going to stretch it out, but Steve wasn't even a little worried about it then.

“It's so loud…” she whispered, trying to cover up one ear without letting go of Steve.

“That's okay. That's okay, because…” Steve reached over to his discarded jacket. In the pocket was his walkman and one of his mixes he was keeping on him until he made the one specifically for Vecna. He slipped the headphones over her ears with a little difficulty, due to the angle and tight quarters. But after he got it on, he'd quickly sped through the first third of the tape, because ABBA's “Lay All Your Love On Me” should've been the fifth song on it.

He pulled her tighter against him while she listened to the music and spoke right into her hair,“ I’m right here. And I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

She continued to cry.

Robin's parents just looked at the two in shock. They knew that they had gotten close, but they never imagined… Steve was the kid in town with a reputation for getting around. They always assumed there was something there, something he was chasing her for. They weren’t happy about it but figured - maybe just maybe - Steve Harrington got drawn into Robin’s refusal of his advances and it just made a game for him after they worked together at the mall.

But the way he was looking at her, it was love.

And not a romantic or lustful thing. It was just love in its purest form. Like they were two halves of the same person. Destined to link their arms together for the rest of their lives, despite whatever husband and wife they would get tied to down the road. It was something bigger than her parents understood.

But they were starting to.

Robin eventually stopped shaking so badly, and stopped crying so hard. Steve asked them if the construction crew could stop what they were doing. Even for just fifteen minutes. Just long enough to let Robin calm down some and get out from under the mattress and put some distance between them.

And the parents left them to each other. Somehow, they completely trusted that all Steve Harrington wanted to do was help their daughter feel better. When they told the crew that their kid was having something of a nervous breakdown, they were incredibly apologetic and immediately shut off all the equipment. Mrs. Buckley brought out some lemonade for them as a thank-you while they killed a little time.

“You doing better, Rob?” Steve asked when she looked like she was coming back to herself.

The room didn't look so scary anymore. Her mind wasn't covering her floor and walls in leathery tentacles. She couldn't hear kids screaming and crying in her ears. She knew Max was safe in the hospital, and Eddie was right next to her recovering. Lucas, Erica, Dustin, and Steve all made it out with bumps and bruises, but they were fine.

Robin pushed the headphones off of one of her ears and nodded to Steve, wiping off her face,” Yeah. Yeah.”

“Do you wanna get up?” he offered.

She thought about it. But her legs still felt like jello, and she still had an icky feeling making her hair stand up. It didn't look like the Upside Down anymore, but she was still scared it would again as soon as she made it to her feet.

“Not yet? It feels safer down here. Closed in, nothing can surprise me.”

“Okay. We’ll stay down here for a few minutes.”

Robin shook her head. She felt silly. “We’re going to be late to work,” she told him.

“Fuck work.” Steve remarked, and she laughed through a sniffle,” I’m the manager now. I say Family Video can re-open tomorrow.”

But then the worry hit her again,“ But, Steve, if I stay here all day and they start again, I-”

Steve just shrugged against her shoulder,“ We can go wherever. Wherever you want.”

And she relaxed again.

They got her up off the floor, splashed some water on her face, and got packed into the car after Robin hugged her parents. Told them she was going to be fine.

They blared music from his car and stopped back at his house first to grab snacks. She met the Antonovs while Steve stole a boombox and a handful of cassettes from his room. And then they made quick goodbyes and were off again. Steve figured a good place to go, to get away from everything, was that junkyard past the quarry.

They drove up the gravel road, around the big open water, into the break of the trees, and out through the clearing of abandoned cars and scrap.

“So, this is where Dustin took you, huh?”

She'd wondered what kind of place made for a demodog trap and makeshift fortress to hunker down in. Not enough to actually ask for a visit to a place that screamed serial killer central, but she'd wondered about it.

“Yeah. Except we came from the tracks and walked the whole way from town.” Steve told her.

Robin crinkled up her nose at the idea,“ If you're gonna bring me to the edge of the world, I'm not walking there. Only way you're getting me all the way out here is if I'm riding in style.” She leaned back in the seat, popped her feet up on the dash, and closed her eyes. Like she was trying to become the picture of luxury.

Steve just smiled softly and hummed,“ Of course, you are.”

The Beemer was parked and the two climbed out together. Robin's first instinct was to comment on the mess. The broken glass and the dented-up metal. Steve pretended it was all damage from the demodogs. She didn't know any better to push it. But they sat down in an open spot. Dug into the leftovers of Claudia's brownies while they just talked and looked out over the hill.

And then Robin brought the conversation back to something she considered to be of high importance.

“So, what's the plan with Nancy?”

Steve completely turned away from her, echoing her question like that'd make her drop it,“ What's the plan?”

And, as if she didn't even hear the annoyance in his tone, she agreed,“ Yeah. What's the plan? What sort of idea do we have on the docket?”

“Robin. Her boyfriend is sleeping on my couch right now.” Steve reminded her.

“Which is why I want to know the plan. Situation's gotten complicated.” Robin crossed her legs and popped a bit of brownie into her mouth.

But he declared,“ There is no plan.”

And she almost sounded disappointed. "Steve.”

“You guys keep trying to open that door - and maybe you could entertain the idea while Jonathan wasn't around - but it's different now.”

“You guys?” Robin pointed out,” Who else has been talking about you and Nancy?”

Steve muttered,“ Munson might've said something stupid…”

Her eyes widened,“ See! Multiple people-”

“Just the two-”

“Multiple people think there's something there! So why aren't you going for it? We got your confidence back, you're acting like the hot commodity you are again. Don't get why you're wasting time.”

He tried to redirect her,“ Why don't we focus on the Vickie front?”

She argued,“ The Vickie front is fine!”

“Oh? So what are the two of you then?” Steve pressed.

Robin got quiet before eventually saying,” I don't know.”

“That doesn't sound very fine.”

Which thankfully seemed to pull her away from Nancy Wheeler.

“How do I broach that topic then, Steve?” she asked.

“Well, you're gonna wanna get all dressed up, look real nice, lean in close, and then you're going to ask her where this thing is going.”

“And if she doesn't think 'this thing' is going where I want it to go? Then I've just outed myself and started the countdown until I become the town pariah.”

“You just gotta be covert enough it's safe, and direct enough you get a clear answer,” Steve advised. Which sounded like an impossible balance to strike.

And Robin was at least a little bit annoyed he'd even say such a thing. “Oh? Is that all?“

“That's all it takes!”

“Then…” Robin leaned over and got all in Steve's space before she put on a husky voice,“ Where do you think this Nancy thing is going?”

Steve cried out “Shut up!” and shoved her shoulder. They both fell into boisterous laughter while they lay out on the grass. Leaving behind the horrors of that morning and knowing full well that Family Video wasn't opening by 10 am as they planned.

Karen got a phone call that morning from Theresa. Robin's mother mentioned that they'd had a rough morning at their house, and asked if Karen had noticed Nancy going through anything after the earthquake. Seeming like she was reliving it at all, or stuff like night terrors? Karen truthfully told her that she hadn't seen any of that from Nancy, but what she kept to herself was that their kids didn't just face an earthquake. Karen knew they'd seen more than they needed to.

And with her soft heart, knowing that Robin got really shaken up and quickly left with Steve that morning to get away from the ruckus, Karen decided she'd pay the two of them a visit. Offer a little kindness and remind them that - even if they couldn't turn to their own parents for help - she was on their team now. Like what Nancy had said the night she found out what was going on.

So Karen baked a batch of fresh cookies in the oven. Her oldest daughter was pouring over her school work, the new and the old, and paying extra attention to her essays. Karen slid a plate on the dining room table to Nancy as they came out. Still warm and gooey, practically falling apart as Karen warned her to let them cool a minute so she didn't burn herself. And then she headed out the door. Packing herself and her Tupperware container away while she drove over to Steve's place. Where surely the two of them would have gone after Robin's fright.

The oddest thing was, as she came up to the front porch and knocked on the door, it wasn't either of them that answered. Nor was it Hopper or Joyce, or any of the kids. Instead, there was a man she'd never met before. A very attractive man, for the record, wearing a pretty skimpy pair of cut-off jeans that were halfway up his thighs and what probably used to be a tee shirt until the sleeves were snipped off to the shoulder and the bottom cropped until it almost showed skin.

Which was a little out of the usual considering Spring just started and nobody else in Hawkins would be dressing like that for weeks, if not months. Just wasn't warm enough for it yet. But there this mystery man was, looking like he was ready to host a Summer cookout and work on his poolside tan.

He pursed his lips under a crisp mustache and asked, with a strong, deep voice and accent,” Yes?”

“Uh, yes, I- uh- I’m Karen. Wheeler. Mike and Nancy’s mom.” she explained. Remembering herself after a moment and shifting the cookies onto one arm, reaching out with her other hand to shake his. Friendly, polite, and mannerly. Maybe a little more bashful than she should be.

He smiled kindly and shook it with a firm grip,” Dmitri. I am Mikhail’s father.”

“Oh, yes, I’d heard- that, um, that we had someone new coming into town.” she made the connection and thought to herself that she was being silly. Stuttering and sputtering for no reason.

“Ah, yes.” Dmitri nodded,” Once your government sends me some papers, I may move out of this boy’s home. Maybe then we will even be neighbors, yes?”

Karen smiled and agreed,” Yeah, maybe.”

It was quiet for only a moment before he wondered,“ Was there something…?”

“Oh! Yes! Sorry, um, I assumed Steve and Robin would be around. Wanted to drop off a snack for them.” she motioned to the container she held.

“That is very kind of you. They are out, but I can put it in the kitchen.” he offered.

She handed the sweets over with a simple “thank you,” but she didn't exactly want to run back home so quickly. And she thought it was only reasonable to try and get to know him. Being another adult on the end-of-the-world team and all.

“How- how are you and your son adjusting? To Hawkins? I'm sure it must be a big change.”

“It is fine,” he assured her. “Mikhail wishes he were in school. Also wishes he had his own room, but that will change in time. We are fine. Much better away from where we were. And I, myself, am most enjoying all the time free from work and the warm temperature.”

Dmitri remarked on it all with a smile. Pale, blue eyes shining under the midwest sun. Which must've been a stark difference compared to the snow-covered country he'd called home just days before. He really seemed happy to have completely turned his whole life around.

It wasn't like he had much of a choice. By the sound of it from Murray, Hop, and Joyce, he had to leave. There wasn't anything left for him or his son in the Soviet Union after he was imprisoned, escaped, and every person at his workplace - convicts and guards alike - was killed. He was a renegade, no matter what. So he had to pack up his kid and him, board a sketchy helicopter, and come with the people he'd become loose companions with. Chasing “hope of a better life” and “the American dream” as far as it'd take him.

It sounded terrifying for Karen to imagine putting her own family through. But here, the man stood. In the door of a teenage boy's home because it had a spare room to borrow. In a country he didn't know. Without a clue about what exactly was going to happen in the coming days, weeks, months, or years. If they made it that long.

And he smiled under the sunshine. Because he was away from work, and they had nice weather in Hawkins, Indiana. And that was enough to be happy about.

“Really?” she asked him.

“Oh, yes. Certainly. If I could spend the rest of my days like this, though in a home of my own, I would. Waking up early, making food, spending time with Mikhail and sending him off, enjoying this lovely weather… it is all I need.”

Karen had to laugh to herself. It sounded like the life of a housewife this man was wishing for. And she knew it wasn't all sunshine and rainbows. It wasn't as easy or as fulfilling as it seemed like it was when a person summed up in one clean sentence.

“Your son must be better behaved than mine.” she joked.

But Dmitri's eyebrow raised, and he leaned in closer to drop his voice,“ You think too highly of Mikhail. He is still a handful.” He sat back and mentioned,” Though, I suspect I am lucky to just have the one. You manage two.”

“Three, actually.” she corrected,” I have my youngest, Holly, too.”

“Three, then. Miss Wheeler, you are a mother of considerable strength, to do so on your own.”

“Oh, I’m not on my own. My husband, Ted, he-” Karen stumbled for a second. Not exactly sure how much she could speak to her husband's adequacy as a father. Not when it came to the softer parts of childcare. “Well, he supports us. Has a good job and brings home the bacon.”

“But you manage the home and children?” the man restated.

“Uh, yes, I guess, he mostly catches the bills, and I manage the house. And the kids. The day-to-day. If you want to look at it like that.”

“Then that makes you strong,” he argued.

Karen just averted her eyes and brushed her hair off her shoulder. “You’d be the first to think so.”

“Americans do not think their mothers are strong?”

“It’s-” She didn't get very far.

“They should. I believe you are very strong woman, Miss Karen Wheeler.” Dmitri said with full sincerity.

She couldn't help but notice he didn't correct to “Mrs.” even though she brought up her marriage. But it was nice to hear the rest of that sentence too. She was a strong woman. Seriously spoken, because it was no laughing matter.

Karen also couldn't help but ask a question she's wondered a few times by herself.

“Was it easy? To work and take care of your son on your own?”

It seemed a little rude to ask. She'd only known the man for a few minutes, and she only knew he was a widower or some kind of divorcee because it was sort of the elephant in the room. You don't think to grab the kid and not the mom if everything is going well. So he was in the parenting game on his own. And maybe sometimes Karen wondered if she could do something like that.

“Absolutely not.” he answered honestly,” My wife passed many years back. And my job it- it kept me away from home a lot. Only way we got through it was our sweet neighbor watching him when I could not. I only hope I may find way to tend to him more now.”

“You’d want to be a house-husband?” she asked, surprised.

“If I could? Absolutely. Just be a little… little trophy for the Missus to show off while I take care of the home and my boy.” he mused. “Sounds like a fine life to me.”

Karen only let out about half a laugh. “You’re a very interesting man, Dmitri.”

“What? You do not agree?”

“I can see the appeal, from the outside view. I’ve been in the housewife spot for a while now. It can be nice at times, but I definitely miss…” her eyes wandered,” the freedom.”

“I take it you have a passion then? One you put away to take care of your family?” Dmitri leaned against the door frame. His exposed bicep squished against woodgrain, though Karen tried not to notice, and he watched her carefully. Listening.

She admitted to him,“ Yeah, I did. Once upon a time. Many, many years ago.”

“Well, I hope you find it again, Miss Karen.” There it was with the “Miss” again- “Maybe your kids straighten up and give you time to chase it? Or your husband takes over some responsibilities of the house?”

“Oh, that’ll be the day.”

“You think Mr. Wheeler is not strong enough for the job?”

“He does his job.” Karen had to defend her husband. She began to count on her fingers,” Provides the roof over our heads, food on the table-”

But this Dmitri wasn't having it. With one hand, he gently closed his grip around hers. Only enough pressure to stop her, so he could say,“ If your husband leaves you so dissatisfied, then I do not believe he does his job very well.”

And Karen could feel the heat in her cheeks go hotter. He was close. And touching her hands. And serious but not afraid to laugh. And sweet in the way he talked about his kid. And attentive to her in a way no one has been since she and Ted first met.

It swelled something in her chest that scared her.

She smiled politely, and pulled her hands back,“ Sorry to have taken up so much of your time. I wasn't planning on more than a quick drop-off. But I’m happy to hear you’re both settling in. Feel free to help yourselves to the cookies as well.”

“Thank you,” he said, smoothly. No hint of dismay as she backed out. And then he added,” But it was no bother to speak with a beautiful woman on a nice day. Especially if she's brought over her own baking.”

In a moment of bravery, Karen agreed.

“It was no bother speaking to you either. I’ll see you again sometime.”

“Until then, Miss Karen. To your free time and the rise of house-husbandry.”

And Mr. Antonov stayed at the door while Karen returned to her car. He popped open the top and swiped himself a cookie in the wait. Watching as she opened the door and slid into the driver's seat. He only closed the front door of Steve's house once he'd seen the engine turn over fine. Making sure she'd have no problem getting home.

A length of care just beyond what was necessary.

It'd been a long, long time since Karen felt like anyone had extended that attention toward her.

Not that it mattered much. She was a married woman. A housewife. A stay-at-home mom. And Dmitri didn't convey much confidence that she was able to be anything else anymore. Not with three children to look out for. Even if Nancy was going to be off to college soon, Mike still had three years left. Hell- Holly was only six.

She needed to get back home.

Get back to what she knew how to do.

Time passed by in the junkyard. The sun rose up and eventually hung high in the sky overhead. Steve and Robin nearly emptied the last of Claudia's brownies. They were probably ready for some real food soon. And to get back to civilization.

But, for the moment, they just lay out on the ground next to each other.

Trying not to think about all the dirt getting into their hair and rubbing into the back of their clothes.

But Robin finally felt like herself again.

“Thank you,” she said to him. Her best friend. Who sat with her through the whole thing. Even though it snuck up on them out of nowhere, and they've never dealt with anything like it themselves.

“For?” he asked her.

She filled in,“ For being there for me.”

“Rob,” Steve rolled over onto his side to look at her,” I always will be. You know that.”

Robin nodded,“ I know. I just…” she started to explain,” didn’t realize it could get that bad. Nothing ever hit me like that after last summer. Nothing was ever similar enough to what happened that I just- I don’t know. But then I was just in my room, and I looked around, and it was just like Thursday night. Like some amalgamation of my bedroom and the Creel house, and the sounds were just- ”

Steve put his hand on hers where she'd started mindlessly ripping grass up by the roots.

“I know. But we’re fine. We’re fine.” he assured her.

“Yeah. We are.”

“So we’re feeling better now?”

“Yeah. We’re feeling better now.” Robin squeezed his hand.

“All the way better, or is there still something you need to be all the way there?”

She chuckled and smiled up at the bright blue sky. A big toothy smile. The kind her mother would've told her to reign in if they were taking family pictures. But the gentle fondness of Steve Harrington could be funny when he overdid it. Like a mother hen checking on his little chickadees over and over again.

And Steve might've been thinking about cruising by a drive-thru to finish off the comfort, but Robin had another solution in mind to settle any lingering anxiety.

“Well, if you’re offering… you know what my favorite thing ever is…”

And that was all the leading she had to do. Steve's eyes narrowed at her. But he didn't resist much.

“… Fine. Since you had a shitty morning.”

And then Steve went to his cassette player and dropped in “Robin’s Mix.” A tape he'd put together some time ago that always got the most runtime when its namesake was with him. It only took seconds for the sounds of ABBA's “Dancing Queen” to come out through the speakers. The first song on it. Robin stood, dusted herself off, and joined Steve by the hood of his Beemer where he'd propped the player. Fully set on turning the patch of seclusion into their own private dance floor.

And as the Swedish singers came in, Steve was quick to mime a microphone of his own. Directing every single word to his very best friend. Just like they had for her birthday.

“You are the dancing Queen, Young and sweet, Only seventeen! You can dance, You can jive, Having the time of your life, Ooooo~ See that girl, Watch that screen, Digging the Dancing Queen!”

They spun around each other. Robin shook out her hair, dropped her shoulders, and grooved side-to-side. Put her hands up in the air and swept them around in smooth motions. Steve was jumping around, posing, and kneeling to bask up at her. Like she was a real celebrity.

They probably put too much energy into it. If anyone serious was looking at them and compared their moves to the music at hand, they'd probably have said they didn't fit together. But to the two of them, it was how the song was meant to be danced to. It's what was right when everything came down to just Steve and Robin. No one else on the planet was invited.

And just being Steve and Robin was the easiest thing most days.

They made it all the way through the song before Robin nearly collapsed against him in giggles. He put away the phony mic, tossing it somewhere behind him to catch her before they both ended up on their asses. “One Way Or Another” began to fire up, but neither was listening too carefully.

“Thank you,” Robin said, almost out of breath.

“You already said that.” Steve pointed out.

“I know. But seriously,” she grabbed his hand and squeezed it like it was the most tangible lifeline she's ever had,” Thank you. For being my favorite person in the whole world.”

He squeezed her hand back, just as much love expressed in the simple act,” Thank you for being mine.”

Eventually, Robin stood back up on her own two feet. And they decided on that drive-thru meal to offset all the sugar and chocolate they'd had in lieu of a balanced breakfast. And interestingly enough, they also decided on going back to Family Video anyway.

They had no plans to open. More so just get out from under the sun before one of them (Robin) got sunburnt. Maybe even avoid the mosquitoes for the rest of the day. And Robin's Mix played through Steve's stereo the whole drive.

It might've only been Friday, and the nurses might've said they wanted to hold on to Eddie through Tuesday, but he was getting stir-crazy.

He hated, hated, hated just sitting there on that bed. He wasn't supposed to get up and move around too much, lest he desire to face Nurse Tracey's wrath. But it was torture. The tv was no adequate entertainment, and it killed him to know that everyone else had something to do. Some way they were healing or fixing things.

Just “getting better” wasn't a good enough assignment.

Not when there was so much at stake. Not when he was laying down right next to Max, who was stuck where he'd gotten out of. They told him it wasn't the same. But it should've been. They both died, and El brought them both back, and they both got to a hospital. But she wasn't awake.

And it pissed him off so much.

She played decoy, and so did he. And they both did their parts a little too well. But she didn’t get up after.

Wayne dropped in and ate breakfast with him on his way to work. Expressed his sorrow about Eddie's ring. Eddie's mom's ring. His fingertips drifted to his right ring finger where he'd always worn it. Not on the left, because that was the spot dedicated to his own engagement one day.

He missed it. The black gem, cut in too many facets that it caught the light too much. It didn't have the same mystique as domed, smooth onyx that seemed more like a void set in silver than a stone. He'd looked at some in pawn shops and understood the appeal.

But as much as his mom's ring didn't exactly fit the idea of what his aesthetic "should" be, it was better.

And it was gone.

He didn't cry when Wayne mentioned it. Didn't cry when Wayne said he was going to ask around, keep an eye out, and look wherever he could think to. Didn't ruin it for him by saying," I know I wore it into battle. I fucking kissed it before climbing up a twisted version of our trailer and starting my set. So if it's gone, it's gone in another dimension. And, honestly, it was probably eaten by a demobat, given how much they bit at me. So it had to be fucked up for good after sitting in dead monster stomach acid all this time."

No. Eddie just smiled at his uncle. Told him thanks for everything. Said he was going to make it up to him with a spaghetti night when they settled in a new place to call their home again. Wayne smiled and told him not to forget the garlic bread.

"You know that's the best part." he laughed.

Wayne's eyes caught on his watch, and it was time to go. He laid a hand on his boy's shoulder, kissed him on his forehead, and told him to just keep getting better. Try not to worry about anything in the meantime.

Eddie didn't promise him anything.

He finished his re-read of The Hobbit. Sniffled at the end like he always did. He looked over old notes and put together new ones for a campaign. The boys, including Josie and Erica, and even Will, all came by. It was nice.

It wasn't a very complex storyline he'd thought up, but for a one-shot, it would do. The gang of nine players packed around his bed was given the task of sneaking into a masquerade party held in a castle. The queen had received word that her daughter was in danger, but she didn't know who it was. It could've even been a member of their own royal guard. So she'd hired the band of adventurers to make sure the princess would be safe. The hard part was, she'd survived an insane labor of nine. Yup, nonuplets. So there were nine identical princesses to keep an eye on and protect while they tried to find the bad guy. And just as fate would have it, one of them died.

It was only thanks to Will's impeccable notetaking that they figured out it was not actually Daphne in the pale green dress, but Rowena who'd swapped their clothes and taken the place of her sister. A scheme worked up with an assassin she'd fallen in love with to steal the title of "eldest daughter" and have the first claim to the throne. She had been the youngest of nine, after all, she was far down the list before she'd see a crown.

But they solvest the mystery. Earned a good chunk of change from an incredibly distraught royal family who not only lost one child, but a second too. Everyone cheered for each other when they got the confession and defeated the enemies in combat. Tucked away the characters with mentions that it might be nice to dust them off and revisit the theme again another time. Make a regular habit of these Sherlock Holmes-like mysteries dipped in a little bit of fantasy flair and ass-kicking to close it all out.

It was fun. Mostly. But holding the session around his bed, where he felt like he was some weak little thing he didn't think he was… it hurt Eddie in a way he wasn't expecting. It itched against all the other feelings he was holding on to. And he didn't like it.

He was feeling cagey.

So, after they all said their goodbyes, he made a break for it.

Or, more exactly, he told Tracey he had to get out of there and begged for any way to make it happen. She was not happy. Looked at him down her hooked nose, through her thick glasses, from under crumbling mascara that rimmed her eyes. A scornful expression like she was trying to intimidate him into pulling up his covers and saying how much he actually liked it there.

But he stood his ground. And she admitted, him being a legal adult and all, that he could fill out an Against Medical Advice form - meaning he couldn't sue if he fucked himself up for leaving early - and he'd be free. So he asked her, very nicely, to fetch such a document for him. And she did. She still pestered him about calling or coming in the minute he felt bad. To watch himself for a high temperature, upset stomach, sweating or chills, bleeding, puss, or extra sensitivity around the injuries. So he swore up and down he would.

And he made it out.

His car was still at Wayne's hotel, wherever that was exactly, so Eddie just hopped the bus and made it downtown. He didn't have an exact plan, but he was not going to go home. That trailer was practically a fallout zone and wouldn't make for much of a shelter at that point. And he also didn't want to even figure out where Wayne was pitched up at. Because he was bound to go stir crazy there just the same as he had in the hospital.

He ended up on the idea to stop by a certain video store to annoy a certain pair of employees and whatever poor souls decided to shop there on the day Eddie Munson became a truly free man.

“What? Am I not pretty enough for you, Robin?” Steve asked.

His voice dripped with offense, like the discussion at hand was the cruelest thing anyone had ever said to him. They'd been making plans for Robin to ask Vickie on something more obviously a date. To help bridge that gap between girl friends and girlfriends. Robin had suggested something more like what she and Steve do anyway, getting together at someone's house when there are no parents home for a movie. But that also painted what they do as being inherently romantic and she gagged. Now, Steve was on some tirade about being a wonderful date and she should be so lucky.

He leaned against the shop counter and struggled to pop his hip out in a way that could even come close to feminine. But none of the shapes were there, and Robin could only look at him with pity. Not an admission of defeat.

“As much as I love you, Steve…” she tried to soften the blow,” You already know the key thing keeping us apart is my particular interest in…”

”Oh, right.” Steve's tone dropped, and he cupped his hands on his chest as if it was the first time the thought had occurred to him,” Boobies. I don’t have those for you.”

The comment caused Robin to crinkle her nose in a sharp cringe,” Stop calling them that!”

“Why?! It’s what they are! Not my fault you can’t handle the proper word for them!” he pushed.

“ANYWAY!” she tried to take control of the conversation,” I like them a lot, so stop pressing it. It's starting to get really sad.”

“Alright, alright, I'm hearing you, but what if I turned like this.” Steve turned around and arched his back as he shyly looked over his shoulder at Robin. Trying to pull off a more pin-up pose. Like, because she couldn't see his front, she could forget he was missing the pair features they both enjoyed so much. Like it made him girly enough at all.

Robin tried to hold back her snickers at his display. Steve closed his eyes and shook out his hair behind him for effect. He put on a pretend sultry voice before asking her,“ Does this do it for you?”

“What did I just walk in on?” Eddie froze in the open doorway.

As Steve's brain registered that the question didn't come from Robin, he snapped open his eyes and jumped out of the pose. Some kind of less-than-manly shriek flew up from his mouth, and all too quickly he practically tumbled over the countertop and crossed his arms over his chest to cover himself behind it. As if he was even topless in the first place. He wasn't, but he still felt pretty exposed.

“Can't you read the sign?!” Steve griped. A pointer finger shot out to where the “closed” side of the board was clearly facing out the door to any foot traffic on the sidewalk.

Robin was less focused on Steve's cause for concern and complaint. Instead, she joyfully exclaimed,“ Eddie! You’re out of the hospital!”

“Yup, doc declared me as less than ‘healthy as a horse’ but not likely to bleed out at any moment, so I've been released on good behavior for bedrest at my own home while the wounds, you know, do their thing and scar over.”

“If it’s bedrest, shouldn’t you be, ya know… in a bed? Resting?” Steve questioned him. Maybe a little pointedly, but hey, he was allowed to feel a little sour over Eddie walking in on his and Robin's nonsense. That stuff's supposed to be private.

“Didn’t really feel like hitching a ride across town for a quiet hotel room packed with Wayne's and I's stuff while he finishes the rest of his shift.” Eddie excused,” Plus I’d miss out on whatever the hell all this is. So I’ll ask again; what did I just walk in on?”

“Steve’s just really sad that he’s not pretty enough for me.” Robin mused teasingly. Figuring that context was innocuous enough for the present company.

“Oh, man. Tough break, Princess Harrington. My condolences.” Eddie said, putting one hand over his heart and the other on Steve's shoulder like he actually meant to console the man's wounded pride.

Steve swatted away the gesture immediately. And then he decided something new about Eddie being a member of the party.

”You two are insufferable!” he said with a pair of aggressive finger-pointing,” I don't like this duo! I don't need the two of you ganging up on me! It's unfair!”

“Wait till we get Dustin in on the action too. Three on Steve seems like fine odds.” Eddie added just to see the way it made Steve twist up his face. He even started getting a little red!

Through it all, Eddie and Robin found some kind of understanding between the two of them. An understanding of how fun it was to push all of Steve's buttons. And somehow, they still secured invites to his place for dinner. Maybe it was their wicked pair of sad eyes, maybe it was more of that “feeling way too bad for everyone” gene he's got, but Steve let them both pile into his car while he made his way home.

Eddie met their European guests, shook more hands, and made more small talk. And by the end of the meal, Steve would say he narrowly survived the onslaught of teasing. Steve ran Robin back to her place and stayed parked right outside until she buzzed him on the walkie and said she wasn't having a panic attack in her room again and he needed to clear out before someone accused him of stalking. Eddie and Steve laughed, and as the driver wondered where he was sending Eddie off, he admitted he didn't know.

Still hadn't even called his uncle to find out which spot across town he was camped up in.

And somehow… that conversation ended with another invitation to Steve's house. That time, one to spend the night. Eddie was eager to accept. A bustling house of kids and the most random assortment of adults sounded like the exact opposite of falling asleep to the sound of his heartbeat beeping on a machine next to him, and Max's a few feet away.

And thanks to an already stacked dance card - the Byers and Co. on the couch, Joyce and Hop sharing the master, Murray laid claim to the first guest room, the Antonovs in the other - there was really only one place with any spare room without tossing one the injured men to the floorboards.

And that was to partner up and share Steve's bed with him.

It started with Eddie trying to break the ice. Pointing out the grid pattern painted on Steve's walls and hung up on his curtains. Mentioning that it was nothing like how he imagined the King of Hawkins slept. It looked more like a cage than anything else.

Steve shrugged, agreed with the sentiment, and tried to focus on grabbing his own pajama options and getting the night over with. As awkward as it was shaping up to be. But drawing attention to his closet, drew attention to the desk and chair right in front of it. And the denim vest hanging on the back of that chair, which rightfully belonged to Steve's most recent guest.

“There it is!”

Steve turned around and followed Eddie's eyes to the battle vest he'd accidentally borrowed for too long.

“Oh, right! Sorry.” he picked it up from its perch. “Didn't mean to steal it. Just forgot it was there a little.”

“Wow. I let you dress yourself in my battle vest - watching out for your delicate purity so that it might not be besmirched - and you forget about such a deep moment we shared?” Eddie lamented the tragedy. Wondering to himself if it would be too much to try and force a tear.

“I didn't mean I forgot about it like that. Just- I was trying to figure out what to do with it, and I forgot to give it back.” Steve quickly handed it over,” Here.”

Eddie barely looked at the item before he asked,“ What to do with it? That sounds a little spooky. Did you have some kind of black magic spell in mind that you needed it for? You're not gonna steal a lock of my hair after I fall asleep, right?”

“No. Absolutely not. I, just, I was wearing it while I was all gross and sweaty and bleeding, so I figured the same rules as borrowing gym clothes applied, and I should wash it before I gave it back.” Steve tried to explain,” But you have so much stuff on it I didn't want to get ruined, and I wasn't sure how to go about it, and everything has been so insane all the time-”

“I get it. Worry not, Stevie.” Eddie tried to release him from whatever pressure he put on the idea. “Plus you don't really wash a battle vest. It's kinda supposed to go through hell and come out the other side with some authentic grime.”

“But another guy's blood and sweat? That's pretty extreme.” Steve commented. But his face said he leaned more towards 'nasty' than just 'hardcore.'

“You don't understand the culture. That's okay.”

“Alright. Well, then I guess my dilemma turned out for the best.” Steve ducked back into his closet.

Eddie more carefully examined his vest for all the wear and tear it saw. None of the patches or pins looked like they were in danger, but there were some new loose threads he could think about playing with. As he looked it over, he commented with a chuckle,“ Yeah, if you wanna uselessly panic about other stuff and wind up saving the day through inaction, there's the Vecna guy I don't know if you've heard about. I think those magic powers could really speed things along and get us all to summer break in one piece.”

Steve quickly turned out of the hanging garments and urged Eddie,“ Don't let Murray hear you strategize, or he'll barge in and spend an hour actually trying to make a plan out of it.”

He said it so seriously Eddie couldn't even get a response ready while Steve slinked out of the room to go across the hall. To change into the jammies and take care of his nightly routine in the comfort and privacy of his own bathroom. And before Eddie knew it, he was left alone in Steve Harrington's room. Sitting crisscross on the edge of his bed, a pile of denim in his lap, and far too much awareness of how fresh their friendship really was.

The rest of the house had gotten pretty quiet. They'd all turned in for an earlier evening after a long afternoon of work at Hop's cabin and some folks still adjusting their internal clocks to Hawkins time. A big, big house, packed with people, and yet there wasn't much noise.

Steve came back to his room just after a few minutes. He tossed his clothes from the day in a dirty laundry hamper and sat on the other side of the bed. Pushing down the covers before he swung his legs up under them. Eddie followed suit. Standing up to put his vest back on the desk chair for the time being, and climbed into the bed next to his roomie for the night.

And then Eddie and Steve were left to each other. In Steve's bed. Laying still as statues to get some well-deserved rest.

And it was nerve-racking. All of Eddie Munson's nerves were racked. He couldn't help thinking about how the whole situation was so far off the map for him a few weeks ago. On the 22nd of March, Eddie Munson held a broken glass to his neck, and everything's been so strangely on the up and up since. Minus the whole almost-dying part. They'd been forging a bond, a weird one, given such a distinctly separate history. But there they were. Having a sleepover in the famed King's bedroom.

And it wasn't any easier for Steve to deal with. It shouldn’t have been a big deal. It shouldn’t do or mean anything to him. Steve's done this sort of thing with Robin tons of times. Falling asleep next to someone you’re not attracted to should be easy and simple. But it wasn't.

Like, with Robin, they were both allowed to stretch their limbs out in all directions and hug the night away before they tried to kick one another off the bed. But, with Eddie, they were both practically on the edges of the mattress with their backs to each other so they wouldn't accidentally touch or even look at one another. And Steve wasn’t falling asleep. Instead, he felt like he couldn’t move without bothering Eddie.

What if his stitches were still super sore? What if he was lying about the vest and was actually bothered about the condition it was in? What if he was mad about his mom's ring?

And all of a sudden, Eddie started talking.

“You didn’t, by the way.”

Which didn't exactly make any sense as the first thing either of them had said in almost thirty minutes.

“What?”

“Stomp on me.” he clarified.

And it didn't immediately click. But after a second, Steve remembered what he said while Eddie was still in the coma. The part about “I was a bully,” and “I hope I didn't bully you,” but “I wouldn't really remember,” and “Tommy called it stomping on the ants” like that excused any of it. So that was the stomping Eddie was thinking about.

“Oh… so you…“

“Heard that bit?” Eddie finished for him. “Yeah. When our girlie woke me up in my head, some stuff outside started coming through. When there were a lot of you in the room, I couldn’t really follow any of it or understand what you were saying. But you stopped by on your own. Said that bit. It was easy to hear then.”

“Sorry. I honestly didn’t think you’d catch any of it.” Steve tucked his hands in closer to his face. More thankful than anything else that they couldn't see one another for this conversation.

And yet, Eddie joked,“ You planned to waste such a moving monologue on deaf ears? For shame, Harrington, for shame.”

“I just-” he tried again,” I’m sorry-“

But the other wouldn't hear it. “I just said you didn’t do it. Alright? Nothing to waste ‘sorry’ on.”

“But I must have, at some point.” Steve reasoned.

Unsure why his idea was to argue that, no, no, Eddie, actually he did mistreat you, you must be mistaken, think harder. But Eddie didn't waver. His voice was sure and even. And he simply affirmed the fact.

“You didn’t.”

“But-“

“I’ll admit, I convinced myself once or twice that you orchestrated all of it. Sent out your legions of jocks and goons to carry out your dastardly demands for you while keeping your hands clean. But, I know now that I was wrong about that idea.”

And with a pang of guilt that gnawed at his ribs, Steve spoke quietly,“ But I know I’ve said it.”

Freak. He called him The Freak. He knew he did. Hell, he said it just weeks ago when Dustin invited him to the game. He knew that.

But Eddie didn't dwell on it. Didn't deem it the important part.

“Not to me. Not once did you shove my face in it.”

“I’m still sorr-“ but Steve felt a smack on his shoulder. Carefully, he looked over to see that Eddie was laying face up, no longer with his back to Steve. The wall of air between them was gone, in one way or another. So Steve shifted over, joining him in laying back until he was looking up at his ceiling too.

“And do you always do that?” Eddie asked as he tried to get comfortable.

“Do what? Apologiz-”

“Talk through movies?” Eddie interrupted, steering the conversation way out into the left field,” I mean, I was unconscious, but I still heard your whole commentary on Grease. Very strong opinions you have on that one.”

“Okay, Sandy did nothing wrong and shouldn't have had to 'compromise' with Danny at the end just because he lied about their relationship to his guys for points. Had her story been about actually wanting to be less of a goody-two-shoes for her own reasons-”

Eddie stopped him before he really got going,“ That is what I'm talking about. Seriously, dude? And you had something specific to say every minute of it. Was practically watching it with you even with my eyes closed because you'd remind me what beat we were on without fail.”

He bumped into Steve's shoulder with his own. Small laughs bubbled up. And the whole situation didn't feel so awkward and stilted anymore.

“Yeah, I guess.” Steve agreed with a smile,” Rob and I are usually pretty chatty when we watch ‘em together. I think I picked it up from her.”

“Oh, yeah, you’re a real Chatty Cathy, Steve Harrington.”

“That such a bad thing?”

Eddie paused to think on it. But quickly decided otherwise. “Nah. I wouldn’t say so. Felt way less lonely with someone talking.”

Steve felt some pride settle back into himself,“ Then you’re welcome.”

“Oh, great,” he groaned,” Now I went and gave you a big head about it.”

“I think most people would tell you I already had one.” Steve pointed out.

“A big, stupid head.” Eddie took a finger and poked Steve right on the side of his forehead. But before Steve could really say anything else, he tugged the blanket up and rolled over in the bed. His back was up again, but it didn't feel so insurmountable. It was comfortable.

“Go to sleep,” he commanded. As if he wasn't the one that started their discussion in the first place.

Steve rolled onto his own side,” You go to sleep.”

A comeback fit for a first grader. My, how the mighty have fallen. But sometimes falling could be a good thing. Brings a person back down to Earth. Reminds them of all the other people that didn't climb too tall on their high horse.

And that kind of falling, the kind that Steve Harrington did, didn't make him shatter into broken pieces on the ground.

Some parts of a person need to break. Explicitly so they can put themselves back together. And maybe the breaks were always going to be there. But maybe he'd be the better for it. Maybe they all would.

#Totally didn't forget to post this for a while what are you talking about I've never-#Yeah #I did. Sorry Tumblr I need to get back into the habit of checking in on y'all over here. Working on it.#Anyway #I hope this chapter was everything a person could hope for a more?#I really wanted to develop the trauma they're all kind of going through - Robin has some PTSD - Eddie has some survivors guilt - etc #And more importantly than just the pain they are going through is the reality that none of them are alone #Even if they feel alone for a little while. Someone always shows up. And they don't have to sit in it by themselves anymore.#Also some Karen Wheeler X Dmitri Antanov because when I'm not making her sapphic that's my fave guy for her <3 #And I really really really love the scene in season 3 where Karen tells Nancy not to give up on what she wants from this life #And you can kind of see there's a little bit of longing as she says it to her. Pushing away maybe a little bit of regret what she didn't?#And I never see that stuff addressed - so I'm doing it #These characters are so complex goddamn #Also the lil D&D bit was heavily inspired by Drawfee's Drawtectives on YouTube and everyone should watch it #I dm-ed a similar session and it's so fun highly highly highly recommend #And I finally threw two character into an 'and there was only one bed' situation #After all my years of writing fanfiction I'm finally hitting first base #I have a lot of reasons on why I wrote that Steve didn't really bully Eddie in HS - I might make a whole discussion post about it #I know it's a pretty divisive headcanon - but after all the times I've poured over this show - this feels like the most accurate answer #Steve Harrington #Eddie Munson #Steddie #Steveddie #Steve x Eddie #Nancy Wheeler #Robin Buckney #Ronance #Robin x Nancy #The Fruity Four #Stranger Things

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ribbonprincess · 2 months

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⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

"Do a lil twirl for me,yeah...your ass looks so good baby." Rafe chuckles,fixing his pants as they tightened around his crotch,the sight of you in a tiny white mini skirt the reason.

"You like it rafey? I bought It thinking of you" "yeah,no shit- you used my credit card" he chuckles. Moving from his spot on the bed,he walks over you,laying his hands on your hips as he squishes the skin. "You should wear it today while I go golfing,you can look pretty in the cart and if you're good enough daddy will buy you a drink."

He smiles before tilting his head down to press his lips against yours as you whine almost immediately,slapping his chest "my lipgloss! you just smeared it all over,daddy." Turning around to face the mirror as you try to deescalate the situation of your almost ruined makeup,dabbing at the area around your lips with a beauty blender.

"Yeah yeah,'s just lip gloss,it's nothing serious." Gasping dramatically you turn around,hand on your chest as if you've been shot as you point a finger at his chest "'s not just lipgloss.."

Chuckling to himself Rafe presses a kiss against your shoulder "I'm sorry cupcake, daddy's being mean yeah?" Nodding as you run your manicured fingers over his jawline,pressing your chest against his,making your tits more visible as you smile softly- a tragic contrast to your action.

꒦꒷︶°꒷︶°︶₊˚ʚɞ˚₊︶°︶꒦˚︶꒷꒦

As you sit prettily in the golf cart,sipping at your drink while watching rafe play with his friends,you can't help but feel lonely,so you decide to approach as he stands a few feet behind the others. "rayray?"

Turning around almost immediately Rafe's expression softens a bit before turning hard. "What are you doing here,told you to sit in the cart" "Yeah... I know,but I missed you" Emphasizing your words you run a hand over his chest,playing with the button of his slacks.

"Missed me huh?" Looking over his shoulder he shouts a quick "Little lady is feeling sick!" Before dragging you over the Golf cart and driving over a more secluded area of the field,covered by trees and bushes.

"Since you've been missing me sooo much,might as well show it. C'mon get on your knees" Taking one last look around you move to your knees on the moist grass,quickly unbuckling his belt as you pull down his pants and boxer just as much needed. Wrapping a hand around the base of his shaft you kiss the vein that runs on the underside of it, resulting in a harsh tug of your hair. "Don't fucking tease me."

Wrapping your lips around his tip before slowly moving down,twisting your hand around what you couldn't fit "Deeper...I've trained you better than this,kid" Rafe mumble from above you,shoving your head down until you gag harshly,tears already pooling at your lash line. "Yeah,there you go...nice and warm for me." Looking up through your clamped wispy lashes you start to move your head again,twirling your tongue around his length like a popsicle as Rafe groans from above you "Got myself the best girl,right? Sucking my dick like this where everyone can pass by"

Nodding as best as you can,you pull off him with a loud "pop". "Wanna make you feel good,daddy." Smiling to himself, Rafe wipes at your saliva coated lower lip before bringing your mouth back on him with a satisfied moan,brushing some strand of hair that have fallen over your face away. "Fuck,keep doing that and I'm gonna cum. You want daddy to cum in your mouth? Yeah,you do."

Meeting you midway as he thrust into your mouth,giving you no time to react or even understand. "shit- 'm cumming" As his rhythm gets sloppier,you suck around his tip holding onto his thigh as you feel a milky substance flood your mouth. Breathing loudly he pulls you away from him as he smirks "Show me your tongue,angel" showcasing your tongue with a proud smile you look up at him in search of praise. "good girl,what do we say now?" "thank you daddy!"

#first long drabble what do we think?#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #outer banks #outer banks x reader #rafe cameron thoughts #rafe cameron smut #outer banks smut #drew starkey x reader #🎀princess

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neuvistar · 29 days

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Biker! Dan heng, Sunday and aventurine?

Sfw and NSFW

Like I'm brain dead for them

DREAM RIDE. biker! honkai star rail men part one

— featuring ┊aventurine, sunday, (il) dan heng x fem!reader (all separate)

— warnings / content warnings ┊all consensual! sfw + nsfw, feminine terms used (she, girl, etc), cunniligus (aventurine #1 pussy eater strikes again), orgasm denial (sunday), jus a tad bit of subby dan heng, semi-public s3x? (sunday), blowjob (dan heng), use of vibrators (sunday), riding (dan heng) use of nicknames, multiple orgasms, bath s3x (aventurine), sunday is a MENACE here, reader implied 2 be a lil smaller than them, v4ginal fingering (aventurine), more tba! | 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

— a/n ┊NOT PROOFREAD ! might correct tmr if i’m not sleepy! <3 anyways hi guys writers block stopped biting my ass anyways guys i’m SOOO attracted 2 aventurine it’s acc insane he needs to be jailed from how majestic he is.. erm! whoever keeps sending asks abt biker! hsr men god bless u and ur entire family | reblogs r appreciated

⊹ 𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐄

sfw.

⊹ BIKER!AVENTURINE who would take you out for late night rides! he’s a total drama queen, let’s get that out of the way. he loves you, yes, but he’d get so pouty whenever you turn him down for your daily night rides with him, he sulks and sulks.. clinging onto your figure until you finally say yes! jokes aside, aventurine really does enjoy your company, he really does value quality time as he would go as far to even take you out to see the stars, feel the breeze and have some fresh air, or just have a midnight snack!

“come on, baby.. 2am is nothing! just come and ride with me for a bit, i promise i’ll have you back til 3?”

⊹ BIKER!AVENTURINE who always finds himself buying you gifts before visiting you and such! sometimes he’d just be riding around on the road and all of the sudden his hands are full of bags and gifts just for you before he gets to your place! he’s a huge gift giver, spoiling you to the brim.

“would [name] like this one.. no no, maybe this one. hm.. maybe both.”

⊹ BIKER!AVENTURINE who can be insecure at times, sometimes he thinks about whether he’s truly right for you or not. like, usually he wouldn’t give in to these thoughts but there are times where he’s just riding around at night n he suddenly stops n goes.. “what if [name] is bored of me?” even though he might not show it, poor thing needs A LOT and i mean A LOT of reassurance from you, please tell him he’s good enough for you!

“my darling.. are you sure i’m right for you? i mean, you know. i’ve just been.. thinking. you’re not gonna leave, are you.. hm? ‘gonna stay with me, right?”

nsfw.

⊹ BIKER!AVENTURINE absolutely loves having sex while you both take bubble baths, i mean.. it’s essential to have good hygiene, isn’t it? aventurine pumped his fingers within your pussy, circling his thumb over your clit as he licked his lips, nuzzling close against your neck. “mmh.. you like that?” his voice, husky and low as his fingers reached the deepest parts of your cunt, a sharp gasp caught in your throat as he held you firmly against him. watching you struggle to stifle your moans made him feel a combination of pride and surprise. aventurine gripped your waist lightly, offering support and reassurance. "damn, sweetheart.. are my fingers that good?" he murmured, his voice low and steady.

aventurine growled softly, pleasure coursing through him at your reaction. his fingers deeply thrusted in and out of you, feeling your tight walls spasm around his digits. with a lick of his lips, he added another finger within your drenched pussy.. the sound of water splashing against his fingers, his speed rising more and more.. stretching you delicately. "missed this," he groaned, adding more speed to his rhythm. "missed the way your body responds to me, my darling girl..” his eyes locked onto yours, seeing the desire mirrored back at him. he wanted to make you cum, that was his goal for the night.. to hear you scream his name again. the roughness of his fingers grew, the sounds of water splashing against his hand was enough to embarrass you, aeons.. he was going fast alright. “c’mon, sweetheart.. it’s been ages since i made you squirt. mmh.. these fingers are good enough to make you squirt, right?”

⊹ BIKER!AVENTURINE who would eat you out almost all the time, whether it’s on his motorcycle seat while he holds your body, or maybe his table filled with tools, or just a plain old bed. aventurine is willing to eat you out literally anywhere, his tongue piercing made it even better. aventurine savoured every second of this, allowing his senses to be consumed by your intoxicating flavour. your body trembled above him, carefully laid on the seat of his motorcycle as he chuckled against your pussy.. your hands buried in his hair as he delved deeper into your depths. the blonde’s tongue danced expertly, exploring every hidden crevice while his fingers played with your swollen bud. “you taste divine," he murmured against your sex, causing you to arch your back sharply. "just like the finest wine, only better." his words hung heavy in the air between them, fuelling your rising passion.

aventurine attacked your cunt hungrily, devouring your folds with complete vigor. aeons, he was obsessed with your pussy, and your taste. the way your wetness spilled out onto his tongue, mixing with the warm atmosphere surrounding the both of you drove him crazy. his large hands held you firmly against the seat of his motorcycle, hands roamed freely over your body, tweaking one of your nipples roughly while diving deeper inside your drenched pussy. your boyfriend groaned into your folds, feeling your walls tremble around him. “good darling.. such a good girl taking my tongue so well.” “.. ‘turine.. you’re gonna make me fall on here.. j—just eat me out on the desk..” you murmured, wincing when you felt a slap on your pussy. “whoops, sorry angel,” ugh.. this tease. “mm.. no-can-do, sweetheart. i like seeing you like this. just imagine, my cum leaking out of your pussy and right onto my bike.” he licked a single stripe on your cunt, chuckling when he noticed your legs quivering. “oh how fascinating would that be.”

⊹ 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐘

sfw.

⊹ BIKER!SUNDAY who has a habit of grabbing onto your waist, or just snaking his arm around it! i mean, he does this for many reasons.. one, to show you’re taken, and two, mm.. he just feels like it! sunday would do it on random occasions, whether he’s talking with his biker friends, at the cashier, anywhere! he loves grabbing your waist and he makes that very clear, maybe if he’s in the mood.. he’d slide his hand beneath your shirt as well wink wink

sunday glanced at your form, a small smile forming on his face when he saw you examining your surroundings. he snaked an arm around your waist, pulling your body firmly against his.

⊹ BIKER!SUNDAY who’s jealousy is intense. sunday would get angry at you, give you the silent treatment, or just bluntly ignore you if you were found talking and laughing with another guy other than him. he refuses to believe that you can be happy with other guys other than him. he would glare at other people he catches staring at what’s his, he was.. possessive. and whenever you catch sight of it, he would try and manipulate you to thinking he’s doing it for your own good! because all those men that were staring at you were bad! (wow, he’s a bastard) saying this, he’s a huge manipulator.. it can be a handful dating him.

“trust me, my love. can’t you see how those men were staring at you?” his voice was soft, dangerously soft. the malicious glint in his eyes didn’t hide anything. “they’re after you, angel. they’re after what’s mine. i’m only trying to protect you. why are you so doubtful of me, hm? do you not love me anymore? are you perhaps.. bored of me?”

⊹ BIKER!SUNDAY who loves being in control, this can be taken in a sexual or non sexual sense <3 sunday is assertive, and he knows what’s right for you. (most of the time!) he can be a bit controlling at times, but he means no harm! he just wants to keep you safe, promise! sometimes sunday would give you that look whenever you would try n defy him, he means business.. trust me. because of this, he can be cold and stubborn towards you at times without even knowing, geez.. he really needs to work on that.

nsfw.

⊹ BIKER!SUNDAY loves being in control, as i’ve mentioned.. but especially in bed. besides that, he’s so damn mean.. he doesn’t let you cum unless he tells you to, kissing your tears away with his lips. “ah ah ah, darling.. what did i say about cumming?” his eyes devoured your small frame, taking in every curve and angle of your body. sunday couldn't help but feel a surge of dominance and control over you, chuckling lowly. you was his, every fiber of your being was his, and he'd take care of you properly. his thrusts were hard to take in, his size and speed.. aeons. the way his cock slides in so easily had him biting his lip, he’s so mean and strict whenever you both make love, spanking you a few times whenever he sees you dozing off!

his eyes never left yours, even when he would immediately pull out when you were on the verge of orgasming, earning a sweet whine from your lips. “please.. please let me cum! sunday, baby please.. i can’t hold it anymore!” oh, how if only you knew how much he loves it when you beg. “oh baby.. i love it when you beg like that.” sunday groaned deeply from pleasure, landing another smack to your ass.. grinning at the sight of you swirling beneath him, “it only makes me wanna do this more.. it makes me wanna keep you here, stop you from cumming all over my cock. do you want that?” “n—no please.. please let me cum, sunday.. i need it—“ “keep begging, my angel. maybe i’ll let you cum if you keep begging and whining for me. come now, speak up.”

⊹ BIKER!SUNDAY who absolutely loves using vibrators on you whenever you both go out together, it’s amusing to him! (stupid bastard) he would increase it’s speed at random times to catch you off guard.. for his own amusement. listen, you really love your boyfriend but sometimes you just wanna slap that stupid smile off his face. you were casually picking out some candy in the candy aisle, a soft smile on your face before you felt that same old sensation within you.. causing a gasp to leave your pretty lips. “mm.. what are you looking at here, my love?” sunday murmured softly, chuckling at your vulnerable state. “sunday.. lower the speed please..” you begged, aeons! you were stupid to even think he’d decrease it’s speed!

your boyfriend smirked, the vibrator’s speed only grew more by the second as you could feel the wetness of your pussy seep through your panties, filling you with humiliation and embarrassment as you could barely walk, holding your hand over your mouth. “fuck.. sunday please..” you knew begging wasn’t gonna get you anywhere.. you knew you would have to have that stupid thing inside you for hours on end, overstimulating your pussy and entire body while your boyfriend watched and held you with pure amusement. to your bewilderment, there were times where sunday would go as far to fingering you by a nearby alleyway, his hands drenched in your juices. this man.. you wanted to be mad at him but you couldn’t bring yourself to be. sunday’s pretty fingers dug deep into your drenched pussy, knuckles deep while he had that same stupid sadistic smile on his face. “i should put that thing in you more.. look how wet your pussy is. it’s practically drooling for me, angel.”

⊹ 𝐈𝐋 𝐃𝐀𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐆

sfw.

⊹ BIKER!DANHENG who is more of a private relationship typa guy, he prefers to keep his relationships private! despite this, he still shows his love for you in many other ways, it’s easy to say that some people are even surprised he was dating you, because of how reserved he is when it came to personal matters <3 he values his and yours’ privacy, you can trust me on that!

⊹ BIKER!DANHENG who struggles putting on his helmet because of his horns (lol), you find it really cute! whenever he leaves your house, sometimes he takes 10 minutes trying to figure out how to wear a helmet because of his horns. he found this so annoying to the point he probably had a custom helmet made for him and his horns!

you nearly let out a giggle when you gazed at him, struggling to wear his helmet over his head. dan heng’s tail swished against his leg, glancing up at you with a slight frown. “[name], it’s not funny.”

⊹ BIKER!DANHENG who would teach you how to ride a motorcycle so you and him can ride around together, i mean.. you can’t blame him! he doesn’t show it much, but he really does hope to spend more time with you, and he thinks this is effective and efficient! dan heng would guide you through it slowly, keeping his hands on your waist while he helped your practice with the brakes and all you needed to know! to be honest, this was really just an excuse to touch you, but can you blame him? his large hands would brush against your hips, helping you adjust and sit properly, it’s a good thing these things take awhile to learn!

“mhm, i got you.” his thumb rubbed circles on your hips, humming. “you’re a fast learner, [name]. you never fail to surprise me.”

nsfw.

⊹ BIKER!DANHENG who just loves having your pretty mouth wrapped around his cock after an exhausting day of biking all day and night. soft gasps and whimpers left his lips as he showed a completely different side of him that night, full of pure desperation and need. “am i.. doing this right?” your voice was muffled against his dick, sending vibrations to his nerves as his hand was carefully placed atop of your head, body aching for release. “yes.. keep sucking me off like that..” with a grunt, he closed his eyes briefly while savouring the warmth of your tongue tracing circles around the sensitive slit.

"more please, baby..“ dan heng begged, arching his back slightly as your warm, wet tongue caressed the head of his cock, teasing him mercilessly before sliding down its veiny shaft. the sensation was foreign yet familiar, sending waves of pleasure coursing through his body. unable to resist any longer, he reached down, gripping your hair tightly as he thrusts his hips upward, pushing deeper into your waiting mouth.his breathing became heavier, the sound of each labored gasp echoing in the otherwise silent room, punctuated by the sloppy sounds of your mouth working him over. your tongue swirls around the base of his cock, teasing the sensitive area underneath his balls before returning to suck and stroke him feverishly. “you’re so good to me.. s.. so good to me..”

⊹ BIKER!DANHENG who would let you ride him just like how he lets you ride his motorcycles! he just wants to put your pleasure first, really. dan heng’s mind raced as he watched you ride him. he was going to lose it, he knew it very well. the sight of you bouncing on his cock, your pussy coating his cock with pure white juices, the sound of your gasps, and the feeling of your breasts against his chest created a whirlwind of emotions. he watched you struggle to stifle your moans while gripping your waist lightly, offering support and reassurance. "you’re doing great, love. fuck.. take your time and do what feels good," he encouraged, his voice low and steady.

he hoped his presence provided comfort, guiding his precious girlfriend to enjoy the sensations without feeling pressure to perform. their bodies moved in harmony together, lust fuelled by the thrill of victory as dan heng’s breaths grew ragged. his face flushed at the sight of your breasts bouncing, biting his lip at how overwhelming this was.. the sound of skin slapping against each other was all that came through, their moans punctuated the intensity of their shared moment. your hands grabbed everywhere.. his biceps, his chest, and oh.. even his horns. he was absolutely losing it. “sh—shit.. use my cock, use my cock for your own pleasure, beloved.. you’re doing so well..”

@ NEUVISTAR. do not plagiarize, claim my work as your own, translate or share my posts on any platform outside of tumblr.

#ᖭི༏ᖫྀ maryse’s diary ૮꒰˶˃̵ ^ ˂̵˵꒱ა #ᖭི༏ᖫྀ maryse answers ૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა #aventurine <33 #sunday <33 #il dan heng <33 #honkai star rail #hsr smut #hsr x reader #sunday x reader #aventurine smut #honkai star rail smut #dan heng x reader #hsr x you #sunday smut #sunday x you #aventurine x reader #dan heng smut #dan heng x you #aventurine x you

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ghoulphile · 8 days

Text

sticky fingers | c.h./the ghoul

➥ pairing | cooper howard/the ghoul x f!reader ➥ word count | 4.5k ➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; mildly dubious consent, dirty talk, degradation kink, fingering, squirting, rough sex, size kink, standing doggystyle, overstimulation, teasing, choking, dacryphilia, cooper howard is his own warning (he nasty y'all), canon compliant - takes place around ep 7, a grab bag mix of the show and the games ➥ summary | “Lil girls should know it’s rude ta steal.” ➥ notes | i love my men like i love my beef jerky 🫠 i wrote this over 16 fevered hours after finishing the finale. hope you enjoy~ minor edits 4/22/24 | x posted to ao3 | masterlist | feedback is always appreciated ❤️ feel free to send in thots, questions, requests!

It begins, as most things in the Southwest Commonwealth do, with a fight for survival.

City life is tough to be sure, but here on the outskirts of pocket civilizations where there’s nothing but long stretches of desolate wasteland - arid, sunbaked earth and scorched shrubbery - for miles around?

Well, if the ferals, fiends, and super mutants don’t get you in the night, then the desert itself will. During the day the sun burns overhead so nuclear hot, heat glimmers on the horizon in dancing waves.

Unforgiving, relentless as blink-and-you-miss-it mirages are swallowed by ever shifting sands.

It’s easy to get lost.

Even easier to boil alive in your armor if you’re unprepared.

Far too many travelers from the Eastern Commonwealths have met their demise here, where shade is sparse, and water even moreso. The rain - if it does blow in over the mountains - brings rad sickness.

If you’re lucky enough to still be alive, the only reprieve from the heat is in the stooped bones of bombed buildings and ramshackle shacks... where you're just as likely to catch a knife in the back from a chem fried addict as you are relief.

Because here, in the Wastes, danger lurks in sand and shadow alike.

You don’t trek out into the flats half-cocked: a fact all locals know. And if you do decide to? Well, you learn one way or another.

No, only the truly ignorant - or the desperate - dare to tempt man and nature.

Consequently, as you dust off the crumbs from the last half of a Fancy Lads Snack Cake and suck a melted smear of icing from your thumb, you're of the latter half.

You tried holding off for as long as you could. But once the shakes started, you knew you couldn’t put off eating lest you pass out and wake up in a slaver camp.

Well, shit, you think as you rattle a dented canister of purified water. This fucking sucks.

Almost going cross-eyed, your tongue hovers under the rim as you watch the last lazy drop fall free. You catch it with a grimace, smacking your lips. The water tastes metal warm in your sour mouth, barely enough to wet your whistle - let alone your thirst.

You began rationing the last of your supplies days ago, and it’s been a battle against light-headedness ever since. Pretty soon you won’t have the strength to defend yourself, scavving be damned.

Come on. Think - gotta think. What can I scrap for caps?

Not only is Filly more than half a day away, Ma June isn’t one for charity cases. The fact she offered twenty extra caps last time for some burnt books and bent bobby pins was as close as you were ever going to get to a Wasteland miracle.

Sunken cheeks and pleading eyes can only get you so far; everyone’s gotta eat.

"Fuck..." The palms of your hands grind into your eye sockets until you see stars. "FUCK!"

There are two unspoken laws in this otherwise lawless land: steal or starve, live or die. A grim reminder that surrounds you in old bleached bones, empty bullet casings, and scraps of cloth fluttering in the breeze.

Someone always has to be top dog. If you’re lucky, they might be willing to share their spoils.

It’s as you’re considering what pieces of yourself you’re willing to barter that you see them. On the horizon, coming from the west, are two dark blobs.

Stark against the flat plains - a shining beacon of salvation - is a man in a ratty duster and cowboy hat. The saddlebag tossed over his shoulder bounces with his steps while a dog trots beside him, its sable coat rippling with muscle.

Pay dirt.

Making sure to keep low and distant, you stalk them. Watching, waiting for the opportune moment to strike.

When the sun dips low, the sky a swath of pale pink and gold, they make camp at a blown-out Drumlin Diner. Off in the distance, thunder rumbles and sickly clouds gather.

Dark and roiling, acid green; a Radstorm brewing.

Electricity cracks at your skin, stands your hair on end. You scrub your hands over your arms, huddling into yourself for warmth. Meanwhile, the stranger seems to luxuriate in the budding promise of rad rain.

He lounges under an awning, his back pressed against a defunct Nuka Cola fridge. He gazes in the direction of the oncoming weather while mindlessly running his fingers through the dog’s fur as it curls up against his legs.

Occasionally, its ears twitch, and its eyes crack open.

Whenever it glances in your direction, you hold your breath and squeeze your eyes shut but it never gives any other indication that it notices your presence.

A small mercy you’re thankful for.

While you’re a pretty good shot, your body is weak with hunger. Besides, you have quick hands and light feet. There’s no doubt you can stealth your way in and out before he realizes his pack is lighter than he left it.

You’ll only take what you need - not interested in causing any more trouble than is necessary. Some food, maybe something to drink if he can spare it, and something to pawn. Just enough supplies to get you sorted in Filly.

Anyway, he certainly isn’t hurting for it by the look of things.

Any guilt you felt was short-lived when he settled down after dropping his pack inside, walking out with an inhaler of Jet in one hand and a can of Cram in the other.

Watched, greedy, as he cracked it open and picked at the tin of meat with lazy fingers. Salivated as he sucked them clean in between deep pulls of chem.

Soon, you decide, licking your lips as he chews, swallows. Soon.

However when push comes to shove, the stranger proves far more keen than you give him credit for.

The world spins like a hit of Daytripper, a kaleidoscope of color as your skull bounces off the wall with a loud crack. Air rushes from your lungs as something huge - hot and heavy - slams into you from behind.

Pins you against the wall with ease as your ears ring.

Something rattles loose; your teeth too large and your tongue too thick. Warm metal floods your mouth as the side of your face throbs in time with the rabbit fast stutter of your heartbeat.

Pain sparks and your stomach rolls.

"Wha's?" you slur, thoughts dripping like wax. "Wh-at's..."

Meanwhile, a gloved hand lassos around your throat like a collar. Brute fingers squeeze the tender flesh of your jugular until you hear your pulse in your ears. Senses struggling - sluggish to adjust in the encroaching night - as tiny cavities eat at your vision, little pockets of darkness.

“Lil girls should know it’s rude ta steal," a gruff voice mocks. “Betcha thought you was real slick, huh? Tch. You ask me, you’re dumber than shit, Darlin'.”

Trying to regain your bearings, you shake your head only to groan. “I don’t - ‘m not -” It’s difficult to concentrate, a throbbing tempo taking up residence in your temples. The words come slow. “Wha’d you mean?”

He whistles, long and low-pitched, "D’ya have any idea who you're fucking with?"

“N-No…”

“How’s about I show you, then?”

Warm breath puffs over the shell of your ear, a tongue sliding out to trace along the lobe. You jolt, squirming in discomfort as he crowds closer.

“Tasty lil thing like you, wrapped up all nice and pretty just for me." He chuckles. "Why, it must be Christmas.”

What the hell is he talking about?

It’s hard to breathe with his heavy weight suffocating you; the scent of gunpowder and bitter smoke clogging your nostrils with every labored inhale. His lips - ragged - scrape over the nape of your neck.

The grip on your throat squeezes once, twice; leather sticks to your sweaty skin.

You squint your sore eyes, taking in the faint flickers of firelight that spill through the open doorway. The desert chill of night has settled in, creeping through the busted out windows to dig beneath your padded armor.

Thunder rumbles directly overhead as lightning follows in flashes of acid green. It’s only a matter of time before sheets of rain come pouring down; the air sticky with humidity, trembling with energy.

The Radstorm has finally arrived.

You’ll undoubtedly get sick if you leave the shelter of the diner - might even die from it if you can’t afford or find any RadAway. But as the stranger’s chest digs into your shoulders, and the dog curls up in the corner - uncaring of your plight as its nose tucks into the whip-thin tail - you think you’ll take your chances.

Tilting back to glance at him from over your shoulder through damp eyes, you say, “Look--”

Only his hand moves, viper quick, as it slides from the front of your neck to the nape. Strong fingers clamp down like a vice, like scuffing an unruly dog.

He grinds your face into the wall, rough metal shredding your cheek.

You cry out, a soft, pained little thing that echoes through the empty diner.

“Now why’d you gotta go an' make me do that?”

A phantom glimpse told you all you needed to know; broad jaw, thin lips, a hollow nasal ridge, creeping radiation burns and cracked skin. Ghoul.

“Let’s try this again, Sugar.”

His free hand - sans glove - creeps over the curve of your hip to splay along the swell of your belly, fingers tucking up under the hem of your shirt. You shiver at the stroke of roughened skin.

“Don’t take another peep or I might jus' have ta pluck out those pretty eyes of yours.”

Dread pools low in your gut, a leaden ball.

Everything in you screams: RUN, RUN, RUN.

Alarms blare but you freeze. Stare straight ahead at the featureless wall, eyes wide and unseeing. Through the foggy mire of your thoughts - half formed and shapeless - you have enough presence to understand the precarious nature of your position.

Heart hammering, you plead for mercy, “Please, I’m - I’m sorry.”

"Aw, ain't that real sweet?" He remains impassive, unmoved. "The little thief does got some manners after all."

Without warning, the sharp toe of his cowboy boot kicks apart your feet. In the ensuing empty space between your thighs, his leg slots into place. Spurs dig into the tender meat of your ankle, little kisses of pain, as his hips rut forward against your ass.

You choke on your spit, pulse jumping in your throat.

"H-Hey, that's..." You attempt to shove at any part of him you can reach to no avail. Built and broad with compact muscle, it's like trying to move a brick wall. "I said I was sorry, okay!"

He ignores you, burying his face into the space behind your ear. A deep inhale sounds next to your head, the expansion of his chest against your back so firm you're not sure you won't fuse together.

The whiskey rough groan he releases does wicked things, makes your mind wander to places it shouldn't. Full of grit and gravel as his cock twitches against your backside, a burning line of heat.

A shiver ricochets down your spine.

He grunts, says, "Mm, you smell good enough ta eat."

The cap of his knee nudges up against your clit with a sudden jolt, shocks of pleasure electrifying your body. Tears prick the corners of your eyes, and a sob threatens to scrape its way up from the depths of your throat.

You swallow, mouth desert dry. "Come on, let's just forget all about this, yeah?" you reason. "No harm done. I'll even give you whatever I've got left so - so..."

He makes a noise in the back of his throat, the vibration rattling through your chest. "So?" he prompts, plucking at the waistband of your trousers.

"So let me go?"

"Now why would I go an' do an asinine thing like that?" he replies. "If you think you can buy your freedom, think again, Sweetheart."

Rain pings off the metal roof, the smell of pungent ozone and rusting metal wafting in through busted windows and open doors.

“'Sides,” he pauses to turn your attention outside, “I’d hate ta have you yakin’ before the fun’s even started.”

There’s no way to misconstrue his meaning when he punctuates the statement with a teasing rut of his hips. Those rugged fingers tug open the clasp of your trousers, yank until the material goes slack and pools around your ankles.

“Hey, wait--!”

You jolt, hands scrambling for purchase as he slides his leg against your core. The friction of his pants through your thin cotton underwear makes you ache.

Ripping through your bottom lip, blood beading to the surface, you choke on a high-pitched whimper. "I..."

There's no way he can't feel your reaction.

How quickly you're getting wet as he drags you along the length of his thigh while yanking your hips back into the cradle of his pelvis. You meet him in a slow grind that boils your blood and steals the breath from your lungs.

It’s been - shit - far too long since you’ve felt anything other than hunger, thirst; the animal drive to keep pushing forward.

"You like this, don'tcha?"

You hear the dagger-sharp smile hidden in his words.

He croons, "What would your fellow smoothies think, huh? Here you are lettin’ a ghoul get you all hot n bothered - and you’re lovin’ it. Ain't you?"

You throb in response, heat stealing its way into your cheeks as you turn your head away in shame. His dark chuckle lets you know he felt the squeeze of your thighs, the rock and dip of your hips against his knee.

"I - I don't..." you stutter, struggling for a retort. “I’m not--”

A tremble works its way through your body, crushed as you are between the rad warm burn of his body and the wall. Completely at his mercy as you try to figure out where it all went wrong and what you can do to worm your way out of this one.

Terrified of what'll happen if you stay, terrified of what'll happen if you go; stuck in limbo as what was meant to be a simple grab-and-dash devolved into this confusing cluster of shame and lust.

You loathe the embers of desire kindling to life low in your belly.

"You really outta start bein' more honest, Sweetheart."

A large hand dips beneath the worn band of your underwear, and you wait with baited breath. Helpless as calloused fingertips brush over the swell of your mond.

Your inner thighs are uncomfortably sticky with slick, and your eyes burn in humiliation. Your throat trembles around all the words you want to say.

"Didn't anyone teach you lyin' was bad?" he asks rhetorically as his fingers slip down to play with the swollen bud of your clit, tapping lightly.

You keen, low and wounded.

Short nails dig into your palms as you flex your hands for want of something to grab onto.

“I am being honest,” you bite out through grit teeth. Sweat dapples your furrowed brow. “Just lemme go, please.”

"I find that hard ta believe," he replies. "Sorry to say, but you're shit at lyin'. Just look how hungry your lil cunt is for me."

It’s the only warning you get before those long digits plunge deep inside, two becoming three as they stretch you wide. Hollow you out; knuckles massaging your entrance as the tips prod along the sensitive front wall of your cunt.

You clamp down with a strangled moan. “Shit!”

This is a horrible idea - but it’s been forever and a day since you’ve felt anything other than your own touch.

Whether it be the bone-deep loneliness you’ve been shoving down for months or the sudden, inexplicable need for contact, you long for a reminder that you’re still alive.

That you’re not some wrath of the Wasteland filled with sand and blood, doing whatever it takes to survive in a place that would rather see you fail.

“I - I’m not sure.”

He snorts but offers no council or reassurances, using his free hand to yank at the back of your head in impatience. While it might’ve been a fairer fight if you weren’t in such bad shape, there’s no denying that he’s proven himself to be more adept.

Stronger, quicker.

This is going to happen either way.

And that turns you on - even though you feel like it shouldn’t.

If you give in, if he forces you to give in, it’s not really your fault then, is it? You can enjoy it because you have no choice.

Fuck it, you think, closing your eyes and tilting your head to the side in submission.

Like a doll with cut strings, all the fight drains from your body and you’re left sharing space. The ghoul is a furnace of heat behind you, barely any space to breathe he’s crowded so close.

His cock thickens where it digs into the soft fat of your ass, as large and intimidating as the man himself. “Now stay still for me.”

The or else goes unspoken.

Then he’s stepping away, a rush of cold air filling the empty space at your back.

You shiver, tempted to turn around. Maybe make a run for it. The only thing stopping you is the awareness that his threats aren’t so idle. In your experience, it’s far better to befriend the monster than to anger it.

So you comply, waiting an eternity as your senses strain to pick up on anything other than the murmuring hush of rain, the rumble of thunder, as the Radstorm continues to blow its way through.

Though just when you think he might’ve left, ready to chance moving, you hear the clink of a belt buckle clicking open. The scuff of boots across the linoleum before broad hands shove up under your shirt, scarred palms bare as they settle on your hips.

You tense before forcing yourself to relax.

“You ain’t as stupid as I thought,” he says. “Good girl.”

A test.

You breathe a sigh of relief.

“I can listen,” you mumble, keeping calm as his hands explore the plains of your stomach, pluck at the waistband of your panties. “Promise ‘m not gonna do anything else.”

Learned my lesson the first time. Got my skull cracked open for it.

“That’s what I like ta hear.”

Without warning, your panties are being ripped from you, scraps of fabric fluttering useless to the floor. You squawk in indignation but then a heavy hand settles between your shoulder blades.

He presses down, and you follow without complaint, finding yourself bent in half.

And then the fat head of his cock is right there, teasing at your entrance. He plays with your cunt, slipping the shaft between your wet folds. Dragging up the length of you to tap at your swollen clit.

Jerking in his hold, you whine and try to bear down with all your weight. “Please,” you squirm. “Please, c’mon…”

His grip remains firm, bruising as he exhales next to your ear, a pleased little grumble. “Thatta girl. Now tell me, who’s my pretty lil thief?”

Every hard ridge of his body bites into the softness of yours, your stiff nipples dragging against the rough material of your shirt. Zings of pleasure shoot through you; bursting in your bloodstream, fizzy like warm Nuka Cola.

“I-”

“Go on now, Sweetheart: say it.” Fingers dig into your hips so hard your bones ache. “Or I jus' might be tempted ta take a bite outta your pretty lil backside instead.”

He’s bluffing, you think, half delirious, … Right? He wouldn’t--

You swallow, throat clicking, and squirm against him.

Is that a chance you’re willing to take?

No, no it’s not.

“Y-Yours - I’m - I’m your little thief.”

The unexpected flare of satisfaction in his voice is almost your undoing. A hand pets down your flank, swatting the outside of your thigh playfully.

“Good girl.” He demands, “Say it again.”

Sharp hip bones kick forward against your ass as he lines himself up and starts to bully his way inside.

“I’m - YOURS!”

Your soft, gummy walls flutter, squeeze until giving in with a pop under the hard pressure of the fat head. His cock stretches you out, thick and girthy.

Ridges of scar tissue and patches of rough friction pockmark his shaft, massaging tender places as he fills you up, fucking you open.

He feeds you inch after inch… until he can’t.

“Wait!”

Accommodating his girth is a struggle, your cunt filled to the brim by the time he’s halfway inside. No amount of slick could make him fit, so he makes do with harsh little jerks of his hips. Forces himself deeper and deeper until he glides home nice and smooth, sheathing himself to the base with a sigh of satisfaction.

You clamp down hard with a hiccupy whine, walls furtively trying to push him out. “A-Ah!”

“Goddamn,” he huffs, hands kneading your ass, “You’re a tight fit.”

Tears prick your lash line, your hips shifting as you try to stop him from moving. Begging for a moment of reprieve. You’ve never taken something so big and thick, so textured before.

Coupled with the minimal foreplay, it feels like he’s punched his way through your body. Hollowed you out to make a home for himself.

Pussy aching, a low burning tightness creeps over your lower belly as tender flesh pulses uncomfortably around the unforgiving heft of his cock seated deep inside. You swear you feel him poking your belly button.

“Please,” you pant, heat settling into your cheeks. “J-Just wait a sec-ond! I can’t - oh shit.”

“Aw, look at you.” Fingers reach around to brush over your cheeks, gather the tears that’ve slipped free. “Didn’t mean ta make you cry,” he lies.

The sound of him sucking his fingers clean reaches your ears. Your stomach swoops, and your clit throbs. Dazed as you wonder what his mouth would feel like on your pussy.

"Hah - too much, you're - fuck - you're too big."

He snickers. “Can’t be helped, I guess.” Body rippling in a shrug, his hands re-settling on your hips. “But that’s all right - I like it better when they cry.”

Before you can retort, he pulls his hips back.

Your toes curl in your boots, feet squeaking across the linoleum floor as your sweaty forehead grinds into the cool metal of the wall. The texture of his shaft burns as it slides through your swollen folds, dragging against sensitive spots you didn’t even know existed.

You can’t tell if it’s the best you’ve ever felt or the worst, but you nearly sob all the same, nerves alight with liquid fire. Want him as deep inside as he can go; a frenzy of desperation that needs him to stuff you so full you choke.

“See for all your whining, you’re takin’ me so well. What did I say about bein' honest?”

You sniffle, blurry eyes creaking open to stare out the window.

Your body throbs in time with your pulse, your pussy so stretched out you can’t clench down when he thrusts in deep. The fat mushroom head teases your cervix, a faint whisper, before he’s drawing back again.

“T-Too fast,” you stutter, head rolling back to rest on his shoulder. Your thighs tremble, knees going soft. “Slow down, slow down.”

“Sh, you can take it. I know you can.”

With a grunt, he surges forward. Wasting no time in starting up a brutal pace that rattles your bones. He drives you hard into the side of the diner; tits crushed and face smashed, a disgusting mixture of tears and drool wetting your cheek.

“Just like that, Sweetheart.”

You do little more than hold on, all thoughts driven from your mind as he fucks you swollen and bruised. Cunt a sticky mess as your slick eases the way, clinging to your inner thighs and dripping down his heavy balls.

Every thrust punches little sounds from you, and he grunts. “Fuck!”

Your hands cling to the sides of his hips, focusing on the shift of muscle beneath heavy fabric. “I can’t,” you slur, eyes cloudy as you glance up into his, gazes meeting for the first time. “Please, I - ah!”

His thrusts turn punishing, even more so than they already were, hips meet your ass with enough force to leave bruises. “What did I say about sneakin' a peek?”

While the words sound threatening, his voice is heated and breathy. For all his talk, he doesn’t look away. In fact, his hips slow into languid rolls, grinding close. When your eyes slide from his, he reaches down to pinch your clit between his fingers.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he chides. “You keep those eyes on me.”

Pretty, you think, dazed.

Glinting in the slants of firelight like wet sand or a Nuka Cola bottle in the sun; bourbon warm as they peer at you from beneath a heavy brow bone.

“That’s it, there’s my good girl."

Eyes fluttering when he flexes his hips in reward, the tip massaging along your g-spot, your mouth drops open on a whine.

“O-Oh! Right there, I - fuck, please don’t stop. ‘m so close.” F-Feels s'good.

His bare hand reaches up to curl around your jaw, gnarled fingers pushing their way past the open circle of your swollen lips. They compress your tongue as they gather saliva, stroking along your tastebuds.

Gritty, rough; he tastes of dirt, blood, and gunpowder.

You sneak a kiss to his scarred knuckle when he pulls free.

“Shit, I’ll be damned. You’re just a nasty lil freak, ain't you?”

You moan in response, stretching up on your tip-toes and arching your hips to change the angle. Your palms rest beside your head, docile.

A crazed grin cracks the corners of his lips, his teeth bared like an animal. “I like that,” he husks. “Now be a peach…”

Then those soaked digits are finding their way between your thighs, ghosting over your skin to smear spit onto your abused clit. The tender bud throbs beneath his fingertips, swollen and begging for attention.

He hitches his hips forward to feel you jerk, pulsing beneath his touch as he resumes a fast, jolting pace that has you smacking into the wall.

“And cum for me.”

A deep rumble escapes his throat, the sloppy, wet sounds of him fucking you ringing loud in your ears. Your hips roll, unsure if you want to press forward into the swirl of his fingers or back into the rut of his cock.

Tears stream down your cheeks, your chest heaving with weak sobs.

“Please,” you whine, his shaft pinching your walls uncomfortably. You feel swollen, rubbed raw. “A-Almost there.”

A nip to the ear is all it takes.

“Hhaah, I’m--!”

The liquid heat that’s been pooling low in your belly - building and building - finally bursts in a gush of slick that soaks his hand. Darkens the crotch of his pants as it drips down your thighs to splash against the tile.

You sob, a full body tremor zipping through you like bottled lightening.

In the aftermath, your cunt twitches in time with your heartbeat. Hands numb and head full of cotton as cramps bloom between your hips. Sharp little stabs shoot up behind your navel.

“Shit, I’ve got myself a gusher,” he laughs, a nasty little smirk tugging at his lips. “Look at the mess you made. Now if you ask real sweet-like, maybe I’ll let you clean it up with your tongue.”

You sag, too boneless to be ashamed as electric aftershocks tingle along your nerves. All the while, his pace never falters, quickly fucking you into overstimulation.

Your clit twitches pathetically when the fat head of his cock drags along your g-spot. "No more," you mumble weakly, letting him maneuver your body how he likes. "Please."

“Heh, let’s see if you can do that again.”

You whimper, “Oh, oh, please n-no. I - I can’t. You’ll break me.”

“That’s real cute,” his lips, harsh and rasping, drag over the shell of your ear, “but I wasn’t askin’.”

The grip on your hips tightens to the point of pain, digging in and marking you up.

“Now, why don’ we have some real fun, Darlin'?”

#cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader #fallout smut #the ghoul x you #cooper howard x you #the ghoul #cooper howard #fallout #fallout fanfic

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lehguru · 9 months

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CALLING THEM MY LOVE + ONE PIECE MEN

characters: law, sabo, ace, kid, killer, bartolomeo

warnings: not proofread, some might be a lil ooc so sorry!

trafalgar law raises an eyebrow at you. "did you sleep today, my love?" you murmured, hugging him from behind and pressing a soft kiss on the nape of his neck. 'hm?' he looked at you with surprise in his eyes. he turned around and pressed a soft kiss on your forehead 'yeah, i did'. in secret, he would think about that all the time and smile to himself.

sabo adores to use pet names to call you. honey, sweetheart, baby, angel, love, anything is fair game for him; he always says these things without being phased. but whenever you compliment him or use pet names to address him, he simply can't take it. "my love, where did you put my coat?". after you said that out loud, your shared place went completely silent. looking for your boyfriend, you found him in the kitchen, his eyes wide and focusing on a random spot on the wall. you approached him and his head snapped towards you, almost startling you. 'what did you just call me?', before you could even reply, he hugged you tighly and started pressing a lot of kisses on your face. 'my love!'

portgas d.ace smirks when these words leave your lips. 'can you repeat that for me?' he says, trying to hide in his voice the fact that he heard you loud and clear. "don't forget your hat, love". instead of picking up the hat from your hands, he simply stood in front of you; the widest smile slowly creeping up on his face. he held your face with both of his hands, his palms engulfing your cheeks. 'i love you, so much', he murmured so softly you almost didn't hear it.

"aren't you tired, my love?" eustass kid barely acknowledges you and growls softly at your question. if it was anyone else, they would take that as a obvious 'get away', but you stood still as the man took off his boots. "aren't you tired from running around my mind all day?" he groaned loudly and hid his eyes with his hand. you jumped on his bare back and kissed his skin. "i love you, grumpy." surprising you, he softly held your arm with his calloused hand. 'i know, my love.'

killer doesn't know how to react at any affection you show towards him. "do you want me to brush your hair, my love?", his baby blue eyes go wide and he almost starts choking on his own spit. 'l-love?' he reached out and held your hand, in a way that almost seemed like he was afraid to break you, 'pet names... do you like them too?'

bartolomeo starts dramatically crying when the words leave your lips. "have you seen luffy's new bounty, my love?", that phrase was like a bomb that you simply dropped on his lap and acted like it was nothing. his cheeks turned red and he started crying, trying to act like your words did not affect him. as he did a little dance, he watched you place the new bounty poster on the wall and he felt himself fall a little harder for you.

2023 © content belongs to lehguru, but the characters used in them belong to their respective creators!!

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kalims · 19 days

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pop !

giving them a balloon with a confession in it and running away,

premise. out of confession ideas? sick of the pile of stupid papers crumpled up on the leg of your desk? or perhaps you're just in the 'you only live life once' mindset. since the school year is ending, why not get rid of the annoying feeling of him tingling your mind? (in the form of a balloon, you never said you were gonna stick around!)

characters. all sorted by dorm

content. mc runs away after giving it, based on a tiktok I stumbled across approximately a year ago... mentions of marriage (one sign and some were speeding through the future)

note. savanaclaws part hmmm yummy

heartslabyul

unsurprisingly, riddle gets a lot of bizarre things from students and professors alike. confessions are one thing but having one in this... circular, red, full of helium balloon is certainly a surprise. creative, he'll give them that. if anything he's just confused with it in his arms as you just sort of, shove it in his arms and run away. he recognizes you easily but once cater plucks it out of his grip and shows him the message he just turns red.

trey is the type of guy to accept whatever you give him, honestly. it doesn't matter if you give him the most random of items, he'll take it without a single word of query (unless it's really questionable.) you could hand him a bottle of mustard in class, trey'll just blink and hold onto it patiently. a pair of batteries? thanks he guesses. a red, inflated balloon? he spares you a questioning glance but you're already collecting dust with how fast you ran away so he turns it and resists a smile. clearly spotting the bold letters.

the opposite of clover, cater just doesn't take anything from you unless it piques his interest or is just a casual 'hold onto this for a few' like water or something. things bordering past unusual is what he'd hesitate to take, though less given he trusts you. sometimes he doesn't take it all together simply cause he doesn't feel like it. caters probably updated on everything so when you shove the balloon in his arms and beeline he's pulling out his phone ready to scream his ass off in his dump account. (also gotta magicam this, duh.)

will most likely just dump it on the ground without another thought. or hand it back to you. ace does not care about balloons, he might even pop it in your face. that is, if you stayed for more than a second. he feels more inclined to peer further cause you ran away so fast. you looked embarrassed, and he finds out quickly why you'd proceed to never show up to his face for the following week when he spots it. stares at it dumbly for like, a minute before taking off after you... be scared ig.

added to the top ten best moments of his life note on his phone. deuce silently highlights your name on it with the same angry, red bump on his forehead because he accidentally ran into a pole midst trying to find you around the campus. he had the same idea as ace (twins) which is finding you immediately except once he read the confession he promptly lost all his braincells in the process. so he's very excited, slash embarrassed, slash shy? and can't conjure any logic cause it's just your face.

savanaclaw

jokes on you. you think he's gonna make an effort to catch your stupid balloon? leona just watches it drop to the floor. the effort is only exerted when he's absolutely sure you've run away on your slow legs, he's not bashful—not at all. maybe that's just denial speaking though. he takes one look at the balloon, and pops it with a single dig of his nail. the stare is so brief that you'd doubt if he ever read it at all, when the evidence of your apparent love is now non-existent in the physical world, very much still lingering inside him. leona comes to the predicament that he can't seem to sleep days after.

ruggie is all too familiar with the lack of appreciation some folks hold towards cheaper material gifts. like a luxury jewel, a big, shiny lil' thing ultimately rotting in the closet of some soul cause its the 'price' that counts. he spots the words easily, discerning the black ink. not entirely formed with straight lines, the keen eyes of his spots the wriggles some hold. as though whoever wrote was nervous and he bores an impish grin. (and some back corner of his closet holds no big, pricey jewel, but the deflated balloon is worth all the more to him.)

more likely to leave it on accident. after falling victim to the annoying pranks his other first year 'friends' like to do, with him as the victim apparently. he's more suspicious of it than anything, jack does not want a face full of whipped cream once again. he stares at it like it's an alien and only goes for the initiative to take it into his hands when it rolls and showcases the very bold text, highlighted and straight to the point. jack inevitably ends up accidentally popping it due to the fear that some other person probably saw it, he did not mean to wreck it. atleast not with a messy chain of thoughts, but hey. atleast he got the message...

octavinelle

well versed in catching you in a gentle manner, if you ever slipped (he definitely did not practice.) so azul's reflexes respond quick enough to capture the red little thing with ease. he recognizes it as one of your antics, and he rarely doesn't humor them since it was harmless ones that don't really get under his skin, unlike that of the tweels... the curiosity of looking forward to whatever you had far outweighed any annoyance, and great sevens he might actually combust. ("JADE PREPARE THE LOUNGE—") <- absolutely ready to initiate the plans he had detailed through a script ages ago if this were to ever happen, with a red face. ha, ha.

either clueless, or already got an idea based entirely on the adorably stiff look on your face. jade easily puts two and two together, it's quite funny because he picks it up and doesn't spare a single look. stalking off to find you immediately, and only then does he take a peek as to whatever made the balloon special, right in front of you cause apparently he's gotta witness your raw embarrassment in the flesh?

floyd is likely not interested in the ball in the first place, he thinks you want to play catch so he runs after you with a laugh that... makes you a lot more concerned. he flings it uselessly to the face of some poor soul before he sprint after you, probably traumatizing them when they spot the 'I like you' on it, and when they realize they got it from the resident terrorist whose definition of 'I like you' is 'you're entertaining, I'm gonna keep on playing with you'. (only blinks when you tell him about it, seeing as he isn't close to releasing you anytime soon from his arms.) caught you!

scarabia

sparkles, around the sun... too bright... kalim's blinding everyone else with his obvious joy. almost immediately turns it and it's clear he saw something he really liked cause he has one of those grins, really wide, showing off his teeth and his face scrunches up to the point where you could barely spot the red irises of his eyes. his lips are wobbly too! and he thought the notion was simply too cute... (so much he just had to send it back, so you could feel what he felt too!) except it comes in a hundred times balloons inside your home.

really confused. is this supposed to be a new form of comfort in the era that he hasn't caught up with yet? jamil does nothing much to stop you from running away, yeah. that's your choice but it did strike an inkling of suspicion in him. with the way you aggressively shoved the balloon in his arms before you ran away makes him think it's contents are supposed to be for him only. seeing as you collected dust with that sprint, so he brings it home. and damn, thank god he did because seven forbid if anyone else actually saw the flicker of bashfullness in his expression, hopefully not his warming ears either.

pomefiore

you try to fool him by not rushing up to him, shoving it and then speeding away for once. but instead calmly placing it in his arms and then walking away like it might be the last time yall have a friendship haha (👀) vil sees right through you either way. dare I say he thinks the whole execution is strange, he means, you could literally just walk up to him and say the exact same thing written on the balloon and he would've loved it either way but eh, atleast you got it out!

don't walk into his room cause you will probably the very prominent place the balloon has in his room. rook surprisingly did not put it on a pedestal which is tame for his nature, but it does have a place in the corner of stuff he absolutely adores. you'd think you'd spared yourself from the embarrassment of seeing his reaction cause c'mon, that was a confession. it's nerve-wracking! but NO cause you spy him outside the window of your class and suffer a heart attack (3rd floor btw)

wherever he read that, epel's jaw drops. people would mistake him as someone who escaped from a mental asylum from the way he's gaping at a balloon like he just got told vil schoenheit got canceled on magicam for some controversy (he in fact, did not.) spends so much time staring at it, and the following where he's managed to snap out of it is spent also staring off into the distance *wedding bells ringing*

ignihyde

uuuuhhhhh... either send it to him digitally or shove it inside his room and dip?? if we're going with the latter, idia doesn't even notice until like, a day after cause he's been playing for. and it isn't even him who notices!! it's ortho!!! even if he did find it he would've ignored it, but behold, ortho, who reads the text in a hilariously flat tone. idia thought his brother was professing his love until the boy reveals it was from you. (nearly falls off the chair, then actually falls when he realizes it's been a day. imagine getting ghosted irl haha)

ortho could be the delivery boy if you're too embarrassed lmao. will help you in constructing a more poetic way with words but honestly the "YOU'RE CUTE LETS DATE" gets it done. boy probably doesn't understand why you don't wanna do it yourself, and records the entire thing, reaction of the person? forwarded to you until he leaves. but now you're suffering through wanting to watch, and not because you're too pussy to actually do it.

diasomnia

what... malleus is the equivalent of '???' like he's seen a few of these unique, forms but he never got the purpose of them. so he assumes it's like, some nice gift of human traditions question mark. so he appreciates it either way, he looks content honestly which is funny cause the terrifying wizard looks kinda silly holding that balloon like it's a child. actually you should've just gave him a blank balloon cause once he spots the confession, oh honey. are you fine with early marriage?

if you can't find lilia might as well yeet the balloon in the ceiling. chances are, he's there and he's gonna catch it. there's already a cheeky smile quirking up the ends of his lips, usually he'd have some sort of retaliation on the personal attack you inflicted on his heart but oh dear, it's strangely blank. he's humming, the round thing upside down as he rubs his chin in contemplation. everyone's just scared at the echoing giggles of the already dark hallway.

an attack? AN ATTACK! unlike lilia who knows how to use the figurative words youth joke about all the time, sebek is... hilariously serious about most things, if not so much that it strikes just a teeny tiny concern in your mind. honestly you didn't take much into account, not the fact that he might consider it as an assault or something because you're already speeding away. apparently not having gotten too far cause he catches up easily and holds you up by the back of your collar like a cat. (you'd most likely have to mention the words cause all he registered was the apparent attack, when he does check he goes redder in the face and accidentally drops you. nows your chance to run!!)

*angelic voice singing* silver, my boo boo, I mean what...? felt something soft being squeezed into his arms, he knew it was you but assumed it was a pillow so he just?? used it as a pillow?? under his head now?? most folks would be confused at the sight of the sleepy guy laying on a balloon cause, one, it might pop and startle everyone in vicinity, two, there's words scribbled on it. although cut off since his head is blocking the way, but the 'LIKE YOU' is really obvious. so he wakes up, glances at it and goes back to sleep, except he couldn't cause the balloon actually popped comically the same time he absorbed it in.

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obxsprincess · 4 months

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rafe x toppers younger sister

“damn,” rafe thought as he watched you — drink in hand while his eyes never left you, smirking at the way your friend had to practically drag you onto the sandy dance floor. your far to short sundress swinging back and forth as you hesitantly moved with the obnoxiously loud music.

he felt his pants tighten when your pretty little dress barely concealed your plush thighs — and yet you were completely oblivious to it.

“fuck, you ever seen that girl over there before?,” rafe nudged topper in the side “the pretty thing with her ass almost showing-”

“who- the fuck man?!” topper blinked at rafe, “what-“ rafe laughed darkly “don’t tell me you’ve gotten with her. might have to share if that’s the case-“

“that’s my fucking sister, dude!” topper shook his head — knowing if it was any other bastard gawking at you he’d beat the fucker up.

“that’s her, shit man-” rafe smirked, it’d been years since he saw you.

“she’s changed-” rafe smiled coyly and finally turned to topper “I let you get with sarah, right?”

a/n ; gonna be doing multiple blurbs which will do more justice to the request, I just wanted this get this lil head cannon out <3

#rafe fanfiction #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #rafe imagine #rafe x reader #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #rafe x you #rafe cameron blurb

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princessbrunette · 2 months

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⊹ . ⁺ 🍭🤍⋅˚₊𐙚

being sarah’s lil best friend who just won’t leave rafe alone.

you always see yourself into the house, which aggravates him as it means he has no control over the home he sees as his own, stepping up for ward. sarah hasn’t even made it out of her bedroom before you’ve barrelled into the kitchen in the tiniest shorts and a bikini top that might aswell not be there, throwing your arms around him as soon as he turns around.

“hiiiii rafe!” you practically pur, lashes batting and purposeful. he swore he could even feel you pushing yourself up against the shape between his thighs beneath his shorts.

“shouldnt you be with my sister?” he drawls in a deadpan, trying his best to ignore the way his body heats up. he peels you off his body and pushes his hair back.

“what i can’t say hi?” you coo, clasping your hands all faux innocent below your waist, the act of your arms coming inwards only forcing your tits to jostle together. he licks his lips subconsciously. jesus, rafe— control yourself. that’s your little sisters friend.

he doesn’t get to think of an answer because sarah comes swinging in, instantly wrapping a hand around your arm. “hey! there you are.” she directs her attention to rafe, a glare. “is my pervert brother bothering you?” she scowls and he throws his hands up in exasperation, knowing for once he actually didn’t do anything wrong.

“no, no. it’s okay.” you shake your head all shy, all victim-like and non-convincingly which only makes sarah shake her head in disgust at her brother, leading you up the stairs. he watches you go, and you peer over your shoulder — stifling a giggle as you bite down on your manicure. fucking menace.

he doesn’t like losing, or more specifically — losing control, so when you show up one day when sarah isn’t home, he feels like he has to escape you before he gives into his impulses.

“there you are, been lookin’ all over for you.” you chirp, sliding into the kitchen where he stands at the fridge. his eyes widen for a second, looking around for his sister.

“y—you know sarah’s not even home. wastin’ your time here ‘cos she’s off with that routledge kid.” he shakes his head, forcing nonchalance as he leans down to scan the inside of the fridge. you’re at his side before he blinks, nail grazing his thick, tanned arm as you all but pet him. he felt weak.

“cant i just hang out with you? why’s it always gotta be about sarah?” you pout, urging him to look your way. you’d really perfected your doe eyed pout since you’d last visited, and the angle you stood at gave him the perfect view down your top. it’s exactly why he grabbed an apple juice carton and turned away, meandering away from the fridge after closing it.

“well i’m not your friend, alright? go home.” he commands, but of course you follow.

“you’re playin’ hard to get.” you whine.

“you’re playing hard to get rid of.” he retorts and you giggle, catching up to him.

“play with me rafey.” you chime seductively, and the tone makes his cock jump. so much so that it irritates him, and as you reach to grab at him again, he snaps around to you, gripping your wrist.

“quit with the slut shit, alright? you’re my little sisters friend. know what that means? means you’re just a fucking kid.” his voice raises only a tad, but it’s enough to snap you out of your whole bravado— the act dropped as you stare up at him with wide eyes, shocked. he can see that you’re hurt and he lets go, the regret instantly settling in as he licks his lips thoughtfully, scratching his forehead.

“okay.” you barely whisper, rejected and damaged. he watches you for a moment, and as you move away to leave he speaks.

“sarah will probably be home soon she… she always comes back. so… just go hang in her room. you’re uh—welcome to stay, alright?” he raises his eyebrows, talking all slow and reassuring the same way you’d speak to a younger sibling to stop them from crying and snitching on you when you play too rough. that wasn’t much comfort to you.

you do as he says and stay there for the rest of the evening. you wake from your slumber when the door cracks open, late at night. you think it might be sarah, but you’re met with her big brother instead.

“sarah still not back?” he converses awkwardly, though the answer is clear. you shake your head, shy and bashful. this was where he wanted you. the control was back in his hands. he’d broken you down to make you feel like you couldn’t have him, and now he could take what he wanted.

he nods, slowly approaching the bed and he almost smirks at that hopeful look in your eyes.

“doin’ a bad thing, kid. you are aware of that, right?” he asks and you nod, your turn to look guilty. he scratches at his jaw, deep in thought as he eyes you over— cute little lacy cami and pyjama shorts that rode up far too high. shit, he could even see your nipples through the thin fabric of your top. was he meant to be the bad guy for not being able to resist this shit? “must think you’re a big girl… comin’ onto me like that earlier. hah…” he chuckles, almost nervously at what he’s about to do.

“just want you. s’not my fault.” you pout and he fixes his expression to a faux solemn frown, nodding like he was very serious.

“yeah, nah— can’t… can’t control what our bodies want, right?” he justifies and you nod before the two of you stare at eachother. his minds made up. “so ‘fuck you still staring at me for? take those shorts off… n’roll over. not dealin’ with the guilt of the shit you’re about to make me do in my sisters bed.”

⊹ . ⁺ 🍭🤍⋅˚₊𐙚

#rafe cameron prompt #bfb!rafe

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ttpdsargeant · 6 months

Text

invisible string

oscar piastri x reader, ex!lando norris x reader

part 1 part 3

in which she moves on with his teammate, but why should she care about his feelings? he never cared about hers. besides, oscar is a much better boyfriend.

this is for the oscar girlies and is also like 6 months after say don’t go!! (we’ll pretend 1989 tv was out 6 months ago for the sake of timelines😭😭)

liked by oscarpiastri, maxfewtrell and 935,746 others

yourusername, 🤍🤍

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user1, WHOOO IS THATTTTT

⤷ user2, i might be insane but like… OSCAR????

logansargeant, i expected a better caption from you considering how much taylor swift you listen to

⤷ yourusername, i couldn’t think of a song to use oops

user3, what if it’s logan????

⤷ user4, not captain america stealing my gf

user5, that should be me holding your hand💔💔

lilymhe, i had to sit and watch you guys be so unbearably cute and i don’t get pic creds for the first one??? criminal!!!

⤷ yourusername, SORRY SORRY IM SORRY thank you taking it lils ily🫶🫶🫶🫶

user6, kinda hope it’s oscar or max just because lando deserves it

⤷ user7, max has a gf but oscar… i need

liked by moref1, norrisupdates and 29,737 others

f1wags, y/n y/l/n has arrived at the qatar gp with kika gomes, but for oscar piastri rather than the usual lando norris👀

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user1, fav homie hopper😋😋

⤷ user2, i mean it’s not like it’s unprovoked

user3, don’t let your boyfriend stop you from finding the love of your life🤞🤞

user4, i wonder how lando feels about this😭😭

⤷ user5, doesn’t he have a new gf?? he arrived at the paddock with another girl today so he can’t really be mad

⤷ user6, NOOO IMAGINE HOW AWKWARD THAT IS

user7, usually i hate wag accounts BUT i am kinda thankful for this i needed to know who the guy y/n’s soft launching is

user8, I KNEW IT WAS OSCAR OR LOGAN IM SO HAPPY

⤷ user9, if it was logan we could have more lily and y/n cause alex and logan are teammates💔💔💔

⤷ user10, i don’t think they have to have a bf from the same team to be friends babe

liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant and 953,746 others

yourusername, when he’s a sprint winner >>>> (pic creds: lilymhe)

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user1, SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP PUNCH ME IN THE FACE

user2, prettiest couple i love pretty people

oscarpiastri, ❤️❤️

⤷ yourusername, 🤍🤍

user3, i would not have wanted to be in the room when lando found out😭😭

user4, she’s just like me i would also date my ex’s friend if he did me wrong🤭🤭

⤷ user5, i’ve honestly shipped her and oscar since before her and lando broke up is that weird

⤷ user6, i don’t blame u i kinda feel like they suit each other more yk

lilymhe, CUTEST I LOVE U LOML

⤷ yourusername, I LOVE U GF

⤷ oscarpiastri, how did alex get used to this

⤷ alex_albon, i didn’t it’s just something we have to deal with unfortunately😕😕

user7, does this mean more alex and oscar🤭🤭

⤷ user8, IMAGINE DOUBLE DATES WITH THEM LILY AND ALEX

sorry for making lando a sucky person but oscar is my one love so😋😋also i had to repost this cause i forgot to add tags and it wouldn’t show up under the tags after i edited it and added them😭😭

#f1 smau #f1 x reader #formula 1 #formula 1 smau #formula 1 x reader #lando norris #lando norris smau #lando norris x reader #f1 #f1 imagine #formula 1 imagine #oscar piastri smau #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri

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ponderingmoonlight · 3 months

Text

JJK men with a big-chested reader

Pairings: Nanami x reader; Geto x reader (nsfw); Yuji/Sukuna x reader; Gojo x reader

Word Count: 4,4k (she's big)

Warnings: THIS IS A FIC WITH A BIG-CHESTED READER! so if this triggers you, don't read it (especially in Sukuna's part, you might get triggered when having smaller boobs so just do me a favor and don't read it instead of leaving a sassy comment), boob play in Geto's part so nsfw, in general harassment but big old fluff from your faves, not proofread bc I have my final exam tomorrow - hope you enjoy! 🤍

Special thanks to one of my moots for letting me turn her cleavage into a cover for this fic - you look STUNNING + thank you to everyone who sent me their experiences for this!

Since I'm not big-chested myself, I'm calling all my big boobie girlies to leave me a lil review about this fic - it would literally help me so much 😭

Click here to get to the small-chested version

Nanami Kento

You sigh to yourself, too exhausted to even stand up straight anymore. Today was like a trip to hell and back. All those fucking curses, the death, the horror. You rub your tired eyes, the stinging pain in your back reminding you more than urgently that you have been up for way too long.

“You look tired, darling. Go change and get into bed with me.”

Oh, that deep voice behind you, the voice you learned to love to the moon and back. How did it even happen that a man like Nanami Kento was seeking interest in you? What was it that made a man like him even look your way? You’ve known each other for quite some time, seeing each other on missions from time to time. But when you began to work at Jujutsu High, everything changed so fast that you couldn’t keep up. And now you’re sitting here in his bedroom, watching in awe as he crawls into bed with nothing but his boxer shorts on.

You would love to get out of your uniform right now, But most importantly, you urge to take off that soaking wet bra that has been bugging you since afternoon. You have no choice, though. With a large chest like yours, it simply isn’t possible to leave the house for missions without extra support. You glance at him while he reads in his book, your gaze falling to your chest.

This isn’t exclusively about missions and you know it. Even though you’ve been together for a few months now, you were never brave enough to show Kento your breasts. Not without a bra, let alone completely naked. Just the thought of him seeing how your big breasts fall down when they slip out of their bra shells, the look on his face when he realizes that you don’t look like those large-chested models with their boobs standing like mountains. Yours definitely don’t. And you fucking hate it.

“I know that look on your face. You are uncomfortable, aren’t you?”

His soft voice rips you out of your pondering immediately. Fuck, he caught you again.

“No…I mean…Yes, kinda…”

You can’t lie into his gorgeous face, not even when the truth makes you feel so uncomfortable. Oh, how much you wished you look the way he deserves it with delicious female curves that suit his flawless appearance. But as soon as you look down, you just know how awful your boobs will look when set free. So you’ll do what you do every night: wait until Kento is asleep to finally take off your bra only to set an alarm in the morning to get up before him and put it back on.

“I always wondered why you are waiting until I sleep to take off your bra and put it back on before my alarm goes off.”

You can’t help but stare at him, mind racing while your palms start to get sweaty. Fuck, how did he even notice? No, why did you ever think he wouldn’t? Kento cares about you like none other, never pushed you to take off your shirt, never failed to ask you how you’re feeling.

“Listen, darling.”

He gets off the bed and kneels down in front of the chair you are sitting on, gently taking your hand into his.

“I just want to make sure you feel comfortable around me. Am I the reason that you don’t want to take your bra off? I can see clearly how uncomfortable it makes you feel.”

“No!”, you blurt out immediately.

Calm down your tingling nerves, this is ridiculous. You stare blankly at your hands intertwined with his.

“I mean…It has nothing to do with you, it’s me.”

“How is this about you, love? There is no reason for you to feel uncomfort-“

“I’m afraid.”

You swallow hard. Are you oversharing? Will he laugh at you for something so ridiculous? But what if he sees you naked at some point, his gaze dropping to your chest only to be greeted by your large hanging chest? You can imagine the look of disgust on his face, how he turns away from you, how-

“Hey, look at me darling. Look at me and tell me what’s wrong”

He cups your cheek gently, forces your haunted eyes to look at him, to stare into his orbs filled with sincerity. There is no way out of this, you can’t lie into his gorgeous face.

“When I take my bra of my breasts just…hang. It’s even visible through my t-shirt…”, you mumble, cheeks redder than the devil.

Thick silence hangs between both of you, his gaze still as soft as before. What is going on inside his head? Is he secretly laughing at you, does he even care about what you have to say?

“Let me make a few things clear.”

He lifts himself off the ground and pulls you up. You squint your eyes, mind racing over why on earth he made you stand up. Is he going to leave, to laugh?

“First of all: I love you just the way you are. I love your gorgeous smile, the way you walk, the way you talk, the way you carry yourself. And I love your breasts-“

“You didn’t even see them yet.”

“I don’t have to in order to know that”, he continues.

“Nothing makes me sadder than seeing you uncomfortable each and every night before going to bed. Of course, I don’t know for sure, but I imagine it to be really painful after some time. Isn’t it digging into your skin?”

Oh, you think about the countless times the sweat underneath your bra made you almost go insane, the red streaks that visibly show where the wire cut into your skin all day.

“It kinda is…”, you confirm with low voice.

“Don’t do this to yourself. I adore you just the way you are and I am dying to see you laying comfortably in your t-shirt next to me. So please, would you allow me to take it off for you?”

Your eyes widen in pure shock. Is this a bad joke, is he just teasing you? No, this is Nanami Kento. And the way he gazes at you with nothing but affection gleaming in his eyes tells you that he’s telling the true, that this is what he wants right now. But are you ready to expose yourself like this? What if he’s still disgusted after saying all those nice words?

You let your head fall against his chest, breathe in his delicious scent. A voice deep inside you tells you to stop, to just relax inside his arms. This is the man who chose you out of all people, who stood by your side no matter what. Kento proved more than once that he loves you dearly, never made you feel the slightest bit bad about yourself.

“Go ahead…”, you mutter against his chest.

His hands wander up your back gently, make shivers run down your spine until he reaches the clasp of your bra. Your heart simply stops when he unclips it through the fabric of your shirt. You fade into darkness as soon as his hands wander up to your shoulders, slide down the thick straps and pull down your bra until he finally lands on the floor.

Slowly, he takes a step back and picks it off the ground.

“You will never have to wear this again when you are home with me, okay? Not when it makes you feel so uncomfortable”, he gently speaks out.

You stare in awe while he carefully places your big bra over the chair and returns in an instant to pull you close against his chest.

“Come on, let’s go to sleep.”

“Yeah”, you mumble, body slowly but surely getting flooded by warmth.

“Going to bed sounds good…”

Geto Suguru

You feel hot but at the same time cold, turned on but at the same time scared. This is it, the moment you’ve been waiting for. At this very moment, none other than Suguru Geto is laying on top of you, kissing you so passionately that you forget how to breathe.

What an overwhelming feeling it is to call him your boyfriend for a few months now. Such a kind and loving man, always looking out for you, giving you the time you needed for this to finally happen. You couldn’t believe your own ears when whimpering that you want him, that you are ready.

But are you really ready for showing him that part of your body? The part that began too grow way too early in your life, the part you’ve always got picked on by all the other girls.

“Look, there she is! She looks like a cow ready to milk!”

“That cleavage…She’s literally begging for it, what a bitch.”

“Ew, are those pimples on your tits?”

You know you are better than that, that your big breasts just belong to you and that you should love yourself just the way you are. But with none other than Suguru laying on top of you, his hands slowly but surely coming dangerously close to your breasts…

“Wait”, you breathe out, haunted eyes making Suguru stop in his tracks in an instant.

“Did I do something wrong? If you don’t want to, we don’t-“

“No, this is great. I- … I waited so long for this. But I just wanted to let you know that…”

You swallow hard. Are you acting ridiculous, destroying the moment with your behaviour? Suguru’s chocolate brown orbs don’t show a hint of annoyance. Instead, he gently strokes your hair while waiting for you to move on.

He deserves to know it

“I might not have the nicest boobs. They are big, but not well formed like the ones of those models. I tend to sweat a lot underneath them, my skin breaks out from time to time and my nipples might be-“

“Stop that right now, (y/n).”, Suguru gently interrupts you with a grin.

But it doesn’t look like the grin of the girls who picked on you for years. No, this grin is filled with warmth and loves, fills you with what feels like confidence. After all, he said that he loves you just the way you are over and over, right? Still, he didn’t even see your boobs. What if he changes his mind?

“There is absolutely nothing, and I mean NOTHING about you that isn’t ‘nice’. I don’t care about what the chest of random models looks like, to be honest I don’t care about anyone but you. And you are everything I want, you are everything I see, you are everything I love.”

His words make you tear up in an instant, send your whole body into space. As long as you can remember, no one ever said really nice things about your breasts and therefore you. You were either insulted or sexualized. But that force of a man on top of you…He just looks into your eyes that are filled with nothing but warmth. This man means every word he says.

“Well, that’s cool”, you mutter without even thinking about your words, lost in the sheer sight of his sincere eyes.

There is no one in the world you want to show your boobs more. Like in trance, you pull up the hem of your shirt and let it fall to the floor mindlessly.

“Are you okay with me touching them?”, he purrs against your ear.

A silent whimper escapes your lips while you simply nod, whole body on fire where it touches his. Painfully slow, he lets his hands wander down your hair onto your shoulders, trace the line of your collarbones until he reaches…

Your breasts.

What an unknown feeling. But oh, what a sensation as well. You arch your back out of instinct while he massages your breasts, the feeling of his fingertips against your still skin alone simply driving you insane.

God, who would have thought you’d ever hear Geto Suguru moan against your ear by just looking, touching, squeezing your boobs? His eyes are darkened by lust, the way his heart pounds against his ribcage echoes through your very own body.

“You look absolutely gorgeous. I can’t stop looking at you, (y/n).”

You feel like flying, fainting, losing your balance. There is no doubt in the fact that this man adores you the way you are, that your constant fear of him not liking your large chest was more than unfounded.

“So…you don’t mind the way my breasts look?”, you whimper underneath his bittersweet touch.

“More than that, I adore you”, he replies in an instant. “And now, let me see you in your full glory.”

Yuji/Sukuna

You’re back feels like it might break every minute, shirt dripping in sweat in the sheer heat of the summer sun. You just want to get out of here, away from those disgusting people, back into your dorm. How stupid it was to leave Jujutsu High on your own for a little stroll through the city. Without the protection of Maki or Nobara, without any good friend who shields you from all the unwanted looks your large chest attracts. While most people think it must be a blessing, it definitely is a curse to you 80% of the time.

Just like right now.

“Come on, I just asked for one grab!”, a guy shouts after you.

Out of instinct, you pick up your pace, not even daring to turn around. What did you even do to catch his attention? You gaze down at your breasts that uncomfortably bounce up and down in the way too tight bra you are wearing today. No, you did absolutely nothing wrong. It’s just these disgusting people who seem to see nothing but the size of your chest.

“Why would you want to touch her? She looks like a cow”, the girl next to him comments along with an ugly laugh, making your heart sting in an instant.

“What a slut”, another voice mutters.

“Oh, I didn’t know you are out today! How are you, (y/n)?”

Your heart almost stops inside of your chest, hands beginning to tremble in an instant. No, not him. Not right here when these people are chasing you. If there’s someone you don’t want to hear those things about you, it’s Yuji Itadori.

“J-just…l-leave”, you stutter.

“Huh? But I just met you! Would you like to watch a movie with me?”

“Look, the cow brought her friends!”

“Do you think he’ll get in her pants today?”

“What a lucky bastard, I’d love to touch them just once…”

Yuji’s face drops in an instant when realizing their words are directed towards you.

“Hey, there’s no need to be rude”, he begins but gets stopped by uncontrollable laughter immediately.

You want to die right here on the spot, disappear from the surface of earth. As if being treated like this wasn’t enough, why does it have to be Yuji who witnesses it all?

“Step aside, loser. Let me handle that.”

Sukuna leans forward in his throne, thick anger rising inside of his chest. You, the one who caught his eye when he first saw you. You, with the immense powers. You, with a dangerous mind that could end wars. Who are these people to talk to you in this manner?

“Are you crazy? I definitely won’t let you out right now”, Yuji replies in an instant.

“You aren’t able to help her brat, now get lost!”

“I won’t let you-“

Enough.

“Now who exactly do you losers think you are, huh?”

That voice, that aura? Your mouth feels dry like the desert in an instant, eyes widen in pure shock. No, this is impossible, Yuji is in control over his body, this can’t be-

“With tits like yours, I would be jealous of someone gorgeous like her as well”, he spits at one of the girls following you.

“And you.”

With a swift motion, he grabs on of the guy’s wrists roughly. Just a little more pressure and it will snap.

“P-please. Don’t!”, you shout after him.

Urgh, why does your begging voice make his grip loosen in an instant, what is it about you that made him switch with this brat anyway?

“Were you really just trying to touch her chest? Thinking just because she has a big chest, you are allowed to touch her, to sexualize her, huh? You humans disgust me with your simple desires”, Sukuna continues.

“If it wasn’t for her unshakable character, I would kill every single one of you right on the spot. But for now-“

In the matter of seconds, all their arms hang in unhealthy directions, visibly broken by the sheer force of none other than Ryomen Sukuna.

You want to scream at him, want to run away, want to get away from this place. But on the other hand, a warmth fills your chest. Did the king of curses just stand up for you, protect you from their rude comments?

“Get going”, he barks at you.

“This was unnecessary”, you mumble.

“And give Yuji back.”

“You should be thankful, (y/n). They will worship you for the rest of your life.”

“No, they will be scared of you for the rest of their lives”, you clarify, hands still trembling.

“So what? Nobody gets away with insulting you over your perfect body. Especially not over the size of your chest. How ridiculous…”

You can’t believe your ears, eyes darting towards him in an instant while you turn redder than a tomato. Did he just say that you are…perfect?

“You didn’t mean that”, you breathe out.

“Oh god I’m so sorry (y/n). Did he hurt you?”, the familiar voice of Yuji cries out.

Calm down your tingling nerves, your pounding heart. Sukuna’s gone. Sukuna…stood up for you. Sukuna said you have a perfect body.

What?

“N-No”, you stumble.

How are you supposed to get over this?

Gojo Satoru

Finally. You sit in front of the bar, excited by the smell of alcohol and cheap perfume that hangs in the air. After working your ass off for what felt like an eternity, you decided to use your day off right. You put on the dress that fits you best, packed your purse and went into the first bar you’ve seen.

Damn, when was the last time you were out on your own? With all your friends being out of town for vacation, this definitely is new.

“Not bad”, you mutter to yourself, eyes roaming around people making out, heartfelt laughter and a group of women sipping on their cocktails.

A cocktail, exactly what you need today.

“Hey, I’d love to order something”, you speak out when the waiter finally comes cross you.

What a lucky day, they even have your favourite cocktail in store. You’re usually not the type of girl to go out on yourself, but these last months, you truly learnt how enjoyable time can be with yourself as your only company. You smile to yourself. Yeah, this is definitely something you could get used to.

“There you go”, the friendly male announces and places the glass filled with joy in front of your hungry eyes.

You gift him the sweetest smile you have before taking a sip. Oh, this tastes absolutely amazing.

“I’ve never seen a woman like you alone in a place like this.”

Your heart drops to the floor in an instant, hands holding onto your glass tightly. Ew, a man is certainly the last thing you want to hear right now with the bartender being the only exception. Instead of even looking his way, you just take another sip of your well-mixed cocktail, the music blasting out of the boxes might make him think you can’t hear him and leave.

Honestly, there aren’t many things that creep you out more than men approaching you. Since you’ve reached puberty and your breasts starting to grow bigger and bigger, it almost felt as if you weren’t a person anymore. With rare exceptions here and there, most of them only talked to you because of one thing:

Your boobs.

Is the man sitting next to you one of them?

“Hey, I’m talking to you, gorgeous.”

Your whole body tenses up in an instant, eyes darting towards him by the sound of his harsh voice.

“Excuse me, I’m not up for a talk”, you bite back.

While you did meet genuinely nice men and have some male friends, the one sitting next to you certainly is one of the other categories. God, how much you hate it, being looked down at and reduced to the size of your breasts. You can’t even count how many times you’ve got commented on them, how many men and women just shamelessly stared at your bust instead of your face while talking to you. It’s safe to say you have enough of all of this.

“A woman who presents what she has like that is up for a talk and far more than that. Why would you come here dressed like a slut if you don’t want me to talk to you?”

Your breath gets stuck in your throat, all thoughts vanish into thick air. This disgusting guy with his beard filled with crumbs and breath stinking like the cheapest beer is definitely up for no good. You, dressed like a slut? You wear a basic black dress, the only one your boobs didn’t fall out when trying it on. What the hell is this creep talking about?

“Just because my boobs are big doesn’t mean I’m a slut. Watch how you talk to me”, you bite back.

“I talk however I want to a bitch like you. Are you up to go somewhere more…private?”

The scene that lays itself out in front of Gojo’s eyes is hard to bear. He doesn’t even know the woman in the black dress sitting in front of the bar, let alone the guy sitting next to her. But just one look into your disgusted face is enough to know that something isn’t right. How you cross your arms in front of your chest, your eyes filled with horror, the way you scoop backwards with every word this man says. Are you okay? He shouldn’t let other people’s business bother him. Fuck, wasn’t he here to get his mind off saving everyone all the time? Nah, he should enjoy his evening, drink that new whiskey they offer, just relax and-

You aren’t even able to comprehend what is happening next to you. He stretches out his hand, ready to touch your breasts without consent when another pair of hands stops him mid-air.

“I think the lady said no. Don’t ya think it’s a little over the top to go into a bar and touch a woman’s boobs?”

His voice might sound playful, but your blood freezes inside of your veins by the power he radiates. Just one glance into his face tells you he is like no men you’ve ever met.

“I…She…She said she wanted it to!”, the crumble beard tries to defend himself.

“I said what? Are you out of your fucking mind!? I told you to leave me alone and you harassed me!”, you clarify in harsh tone.

Oh, how much you’d love to break his nose right now, to give him a taste of his own medicine. But the white-haired man seems to have the same plans.

“A guy like you wouldn’t end up with her anyway. That lady has class. And you, my friend, are just a disgusting pervert. Are you touching other women too without consent? Isn’t your first time, huh?”

With a swift motion, he begins to twist the man’s hand around itself. He whines out in pain in an instant, face twisted just like yours before when he talked you down.

“Let me go!”, he cries out in visible discomfort.

“This is what you get for treating a lady so badly. You can be glad she even looked your way.”

When he gifts you a sly grin, you can’t help but blush. What is it about this man that feels so different, so damn inviting? He seems like no other men you’ve met before. And the fact that he just called you lady…Why do your knees suddenly feel weak?

“Now repeat after me: I.am.sorry.for.disrespecting.you.”

“I will not apologize to a girl who’s dressed like a slut!”

A loud crack makes the already muted room go completely silent, the violent scream coming out of this man’s mouth when his wrist breaks like spaghetti echoing through the room.

“Wrong answer”, the white-haired man purrs.

“Hey, would you mind just taking the trash out?”, the barkeeper questions.

“Did you hear that, dirty boy? Let me show you the way!”

“Are you alright? I didn’t even notice he was harassing you. I’m so sorry”, the bartender speaks out towards you.

“Oh, it’s okay.”

You aren’t even able to give him a real answer, eyes glued on the white-haired man who carries your harasser out like trash.

Like in trance you get back on your feet and follow him out into the cool air of the night.

“Have a nice evening!”, he friendly shouts after the man who sprints down the streets like a coward, as fast away as possible.

“You definitely scared the shit out of him”, you comment.

“He definitely deserved it. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m used to shit like that”, you reply with a huff.

“But normally, they aren’t this disgusting.”

“I hate to hear that. You seem like a genuinely badass and nice person. You didn’t deserve his words.”

“Not as nice as my knight in shining armour who stopped him from touching my boobs.”

He lets out a heartfelt laughter, bright blue orbs set on you.

“Hey, what about me escorting you back home? I’m totally in the mood to beat up any other men who gets in your way.”

“Only if you let me join, though”, you challenge him.

“Definitely a deal. Hey, what’s your name?”

“(y/n)”

“(y/n), huh? Cool name, suits you right? My name’s Gojo Satoru. Nice to meet you.”

He stretches out his hand in front of you, inviting you to take it. You can’t help but smile at his sheer excitement. No, you just have to take his warm hand into yours and shake it.

“Let’s get you home, okay?”

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Dividers by @saradika 🤍

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