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#I'm worried about her slipping out
deanpinterester · 7 months
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sometimes i think about the time i failed a midterm (and i mean failed in a literal sense, not like "aw i got a B+") while i was in an enriched high school program where everyone else was getting A's. in hindsight it should have been clear i needed help and i was struggling. but all the teacher said was to try harder next time
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kittlyns · 2 years
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So hard being a girl with regular urges to disappear
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virgamsysxvolumes · 2 months
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That's MY Mom!!!
This was not at all even the fifth time that Danny Fenton had been kidnapped, but usually it was just Vlad kidnapping him so he had never really needed to be all that concerned about it. The thing was that since he had gone with his sister on her small journey to look at colleges. It had been going fairly well, Jazz was pretty excited. Even better Dan and Dani had opted to join them and make it a Family Road Trip. He was so happy to spend time with his children and sister away from Amity Park that he could admit he got complacent.
Things might have been fine if he hadn't been taken by a group of weirdos with makeup caked on and thus unable to slip away without revealing himself. He was quite annoyed, especially with the cheap clown knockoff that he was at least 99% sure wasn't even licensed to be clowning. He was obnoxious and talked a lot about bats, games, and making everyone smile despite clearly having no talent. Danny could have probably waited this guy out, but it seemed his children noticed his sudden absence before this idiot wrapped up whatever stupid show he was trying to put on. Danny couldn't transform or use his powers while they were recording as his existence was still illegal.
Danny really didn't have to worry about exposing himself though, his two wild natured clone children had not taken his kidnapping well and even less so the recording. Dani's ability to create portals for travel had been utilized to transport herself and Dan, already fully transformed, to his location thanks to their familial soul bond. Dan was all fury and fire as he tore through the portal and practically mauled the clown like a feral badger.
"DON'T TOUCH MY MOM!!" Dan shrieked in a somewhat trauma induced haze.
Danny could almost taste his fear. Dan had already violently and suddenly lost one family, it had taken him so long to allow himself to form new familial bonds and build what he had with Jazz, Dani, and Danny himself. Sure the direction of those bonds had been unexpected, but he had been more than happy to accept the new bond not just between he and Dan but Dani as well whole heartedly. Danny hated to see his sweet son so distraught.
"Tear his soul out! Rip it up!" Dani shouted, just as violently angry and shaken as her physically younger but mentally older brother.
Dani had been just as violent in tearing through the group of thugs that had been present. There were only about seven of them and a few tried to shoot the two ghost children, but obviously you can't shoot a ghost without the right equipment. Dani was fast and Dan was merciless.
"Wait! Wait stop!" Danny shouted suddenly, desperately trying to stop their decent into what he knew would be a painfully dark path for them.
"But he hurt you! They stole you from us!" Dani flinched a little her tone a little miserable as she yanked the ropes from his body setting him free.
"He deserves to be ripped apart molecule by molecule!" Dan snarled slamming the clown's mangled body into the concrete floor of the warehouse.
"Come here, you don't need to ruin your whole life over one no-name thug with zero taste and his little brainless pets." Danny spoke softly to them and held out his arms.
Dan grit his teeth his eyes flaring red as he dropped the shattered clown. He rushed into Danny's arms, Dani also throwing herself into the hug. Danny could feel Dan and Dani feeling out their bond to ensure his health and mood, he resonated all his love and adoration to his children, grateful for their presence. Dan's breath shuddered and Dani sniffled a little, Danny kissed each of their foreheads gently.
"It's alright my starlights. I'm still here, I won't leave you." Danny spoke to them softly. "C'mon, let's get out of here before the cops come to try and dissect you for being illegal."
The two nodded and all three went invisible before vanishing from the warehouse completely. Of course the bats arrived only a moment later.
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angellcherry · 2 months
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— home.
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» pairing: jungkook x reader
» genre: fwb to lovers, hurt/comfort, nsfw
» synopsis: “show me your thorns, and I'll show you hands ready to bleed.”
» warnings: allusions to depression, brief mentions of self harm (nothing graphic!), a little bit of angst, cuddling, reassurance, jungkook is a big green flag, talks of therapy and healing, confessions, lots of kisses, he's down bad and so in love :( (they both are), pet names, soft!dom jk, slight size kink, missionary bc he needs to look at her and kiss her 😩, praise, dirty talk, choking, creampie, aftercare
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His hand curled around the nape of your neck the moment your lips touched. Warmth trickled down your spine, and he titled his head; tongue prodding at your soft lips, like he wanted you down to the marrow. Like he wanted to dip into your soul, kiss after kiss, until he was completely submerged; until he's explored every nook and crevice, felt every bump and crack.
He pulled away from the heat of your mouth slowly, reluctantly, eyes half lidded and dark. Lungs expanding to take in more air, voice coming out hoarse.
"You weren't answering your phone..."
"I know," you whispered, "I'm sorry."
Jungkook shook his head.
"No need to be sorry, baby," he lifted your hand to his lips, leaving a kiss on the soft skin there. "I was just worried."
He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you in closer. You sank into his embrace so easily; like you just came home. In a way, you have. He hasn't seen you in over a week...
It may not have seemed like much, but your absence was tangible. Suffocating. Especially when he didn't know if something was wrong.
"I'm glad you're here," he murmured.
You turned your head to peck his shoulder, fingers entwining, and then you were walking towards his bedroom as though it was second nature. The change in your demeanor had the corners of Jungkook's eyes crinkling from smiling. You practically skipped over to his bed, hopping onto the large mattress.
"Can I get a shirt, please?"
He didn't think you comprehended how fucking cute you were. He turned to open his closet and began rummaging through it.
"At this point, I'm pretty sure I'd kill someone if you asked me," he muttered.
"What?"
"Nothing, baby."
Flushing, he ignored the curious tilt of your head and threw you his favorite t-shirt.
God, how could someone be so fucking cute?
You were always excited to nap in his bed, share food and wear his clothes. The fact that it brought you comfort made his already lovesick heart swell up and ache. Something so simple, but so domestic — it fucked with his head. He wanted this every day, in every life. You were his comfort, too. Why couldn't you see it?
He leaned against his closet, arms crossed, watching you slip out of your clothes, the heap landing on the floor. It was art. You were so beautiful; inside and out. He couldn't help the way his stomach stirred and heart fluttered, yet instead of acting on his urges, he just walked over to you and bent down to pick up your clothes.
While you got into his shirt, he folded them neatly and placed them on his gaming chair.
"I missed this bed so much," you sighed.
Jungkook glanced over at you, taking a moment to drink in the image of you lying there, the black cotton of his shirt slightly too wide and too long for your body; but fuck, it looked perfect to him. He bit his lip, making his way to climb onto the mattress beside you.
"What about me?" He asked, delighted by how you opened up your arms, instinctively scooting closer to him.
"Hm, what about you?"
Jungkook pouted, eyebrows furrowing. His arms wrapped around your waist.
"Hey."
You giggled, peppering his face with kisses, and he wished he could live in this moment forever, stop all the clocks, kill time. To hell with what that would do to the universe.
"I missed you, too."
Just like that, he melted. Somehow, it hurt so bad; he had you right there, and yet he didn't. Disappearing and reappearing. Out of reach, like a mirage.
He lifted your hand to his lips again, momentarily distracted by how small it was compared to his.
"So tiny."
Amused at the scoff you let out, he turned it to kiss your palm, then paused abruptly.
A raw shade of red caught his attention.
Narrowing his eyes, he examined the wounds around multiple fingers — or at least tried to, before you caught on and pulled your hand away like you got burned.
His heart dropped.
It's been a while. Why were you doing this to yourself again?
Fuck. He felt like a failure of a man.
He swallowed thickly, then pulled you in closer, as if treading on thin ice. Terrified of making a mistake and feeling it crack under his weight. Once he was under, once it all fell apart, he didn't know if you'd let him in again.
"Baby..." he whispered into your hair.
"I'm so tired, Jungkook," mellow, you answered the question he didn't get to ask. "I don't know what's wrong with me..."
"Talk to me," he pleaded. "I can't help you if you shut me down."
You sniffed quietly. There was a loud crack. Not in the ice, but in his chest.
"You can't help me either way."
Jungkook tried to lift his head to look at you, but you gripped his hoodie, bunching up the fabric in your hand.
"Baby—"
"Not everyone deserves help," you insisted, a wet sigh following. "What's wrong with me? Why can't I help myself? E-everyone else seems to be doing just fine, a-and I'm just rotting away, filled with these ugly thoughts and feelings, I can't do anything right."
Jungkook hugged you tighter, like he hoped he could mould you together, give you as much of him as you needed to feel whole again. He'd let you rip him to pieces to fill the void.
"Stop saying that," he breathed, his eyes burning, "fuck, stop saying that."
He stroked your back as you cried into his chest, softly, feeling helpless and furious at the same time.
"When you're always in the dark," he whispered, "you learn to make friends with monsters to survive. It's all you know, so it's what feels most comfortable."
He heard you inhale, felt your head lift with hesitation. Eyes swollen, glossy, lower lip still trembling.
Jungkook cupped your face, wiping at the wet streaks.
"When you're always in the dark, sometimes... it feels like it's all you deserve. But it's not your fault. You're not a bad person," he said softly, his thumb rubbing your lower lip. "Sometimes, it's just the monsters you know talking."
You blinked, small and vulnerable, like a child who just woke up from a nightmare.
"I... I don't know..."
Jungkook squeezed your waist, so close his nose almost touched yours.
"But I know," he promised. "I know."
He stared into your eyes, watched them well up with more tears. He wished he could kiss them all away.
"Let me be there for you—"
You kissed him, and once again, it hurt. Because he wanted you, he wanted you so bad, but not like this — why didn't you want him, too?
Outside of the bedroom, when you weren't tangled in sheets, it seemed like you had no interest in letting your walls down. He's spent so much time trying to climb them, only to end up with broken bones, back down on the ground again.
He couldn't do this anymore.
He pulled away from your lips, denying you the oblivion you craved. He wanted to let you use him, he'd do it every day if it meant he could see you again. But he was afraid that if he didn't speak up now, he'd never find the courage to do it.
"I want to be with you," he breathed out. "Why won't you let me love you?"
There was an instant change in your expression that made his stomach lurch.
"I— I..."
A pause, filled with uncertainty.
Jungkook searched your eyes. The windows to the soul, they said. Broken, and the interior was dark. Nothing good lurked in there.
"I love you," he repeated.
His heart pounded in his chest. He stared right into this endless darkness, crawling with insecurities and fear. As though he was hoping the warm whisper would chase away the frigid, haunted air breaking through, make all the other voices come to a halt.
He was no longer a boy, but a man, and he feared no monsters. He wanted to flood the space with light.
"Move in with me," his palm settled on your cheek, thumb brushing your skin. "I'll help with your classes and therapy. I'll take care of you. You can lean on me until you're strong enough to stand on your own. And even then, when you do — I still wanna be there. I wanna make you happy... Every day."
There it was. His heart, right in the palm of your hand, like an offering. Bleeding through your fingers. Willing to be crushed, if it meant at least he tried.
But you cradled it instead.
Fresh tears, sticking to your eyelashes, and then a rush of warmth in the dark. Your lips pressed into his, tender, and he shut his eyes, tasting a mixture of salt and your sweetness —
"I love you," a shaky exhale, right into his mouth.
It sank into him like sunlight, pulsing, nourishing and bright. And he swallowed it up with a kiss, his teeth clashing with yours.
He shifted to hover above you, finding rest in between your legs, goosebumps erupting when he felt your hand slip under his hoodie, inching it up.
A giggle slipped past his lips, and he disconnected himself from you only to take it off, throwing it aside carelessly before he was kissing you again.
He felt you smile. You went straight to his head like wine. Your taste, your scent — your touch, exploring the muscles of his back, his shoulders.
He was already hard, aching to get lost in you; dizzy on want and love.
Hands groping over clothes, wherever they could reach, hot lips trailing down your neck. He wanted to do so many things to you; kiss every inch of your skin, make you come on his tongue.
But you had the whole night — a whole eternity, really. And the way you squirmed beneath him, arching your back, legs parting, hips raising to feel him, urgent and breathy, wiped his mind clean off anything but the need to be inside you.
Jungkook groaned, his cock twitching, leaking precum into the cotton of his boxers. He remained still, however, letting your hand wander in between your bodies.
His eyes were glued to the way it traveled down his tensing abdomen, pausing to lower his sweats; then dipping inside.
He tried to stay quiet, though his chest was heaving, the sight and the feeling of your hand wrapping around his girth making it twitch again.
He watched you pull your panties aside, wet and ruined, revealing your pretty, glistening folds and the small entrance below.
So fucking small.
It looked almost obscene compared to his cock, long and thick and pulsating in your hand. But you fit him perfectly, like you were made just for him.
The moment you guided him forward, and the wet tip touched the heat of your cunt, he lifted his eyes to yours.
He felt so fucked out, but he was gentle as he pushed inside. The tight, wet muscle welcomed him eagerly, inch by inch, until his hips touched yours and he couldn't breathe.
For a moment, time stood still.
His head fell into the crook of your neck, inked hand squeezing your thigh.
"I missed you so much."
He sounded broken, but he's never felt so whole before.
"I missed you too..."
You clenched around him, prompting his hips to move off their own accord, coaxing the most beautiful sounds out of your body. The wetness, the smack of his skin against yours; the soft whines that fueled the heat boiling deep in his gut.
"Mmm," he moaned, raspy, "doing so well, baby."
He tried to stretch you out slowly, preoccupy himself with biting and sucking at your neck; anything not to focus on how you clenched around him.
But he was doomed, and he understood that the second you moved your hips, fucking him back.
"Oh shit," he gasped, "baby..."
He stifled another moan into your cheek, picking up his pace, so deep inside you he wondered if you could feel him in your tummy. The thought alone made his cock throb, every vein and ridge.
Long, ringed fingers wrapped around your throat, the pressure soft, but definitely there. In return, you grasped his shoulders, nails digging in, and Jungkook knew he wasn't going to last long.
"Good?" He breathed, slamming into you a little faster, stuck on your shining eyes and eager nods. "Yeah?"
The mattress began to protest under the force of his thrusts, but the sound was drowned out by everything else. Jungkook felt your cunt tightening, so warm and so fucking sloppy, his own little personal heaven.
"Almost there? Hm? Gonna make a mess for me?"
Clench.
He groaned, his tummy twisting, the moans spilling past your lips making his head spin.
You merely nodded again, as though you couldn't speak. It made the corner of his lips quirk upwards.
"Yeah?" He tightened his hold on your neck, staking his claim with a coo. "My girl's gonna make a mess on my cock? Pretty angel's gonna cream all over it?"
Your breath hitched, thighs beginning to quiver around him.
"Y-yeah," you uttered, breathless, "yours—"
Jungkook's tongue slid into your mouth, his rutting becoming desperate. He wanted to mark you and brand you and oh god — he was about to see stars.
"Yeah, fuck— mine, my good girl," he stuttered out, "oh, baby, mhmm, I'm gonna come—"
His hips bucked as your pussy spasmed around him, sucking his cock in deeper, restricting his movements. Still, he fucked you through your orgasm, letting himself go with a loud groan. A burst of stars, the tension snapping; and he spilled inside you, white ropes of hot cum that filled you up to the brim.
He slumped against you after a drawn out moment, his body thrumming with bliss. Careful not to crush you, however, he rolled over to the side, his arms automatically enveloping your frame.
With his nose in your neck, he waited for his breathing to even out, lazily rubbing your hands.
"So good," he mumbled, "fuck... Are you okay, baby?"
You hummed, snuggling into him.
"More than okay."
Jungkook smiled, opening his eyes and pressing a kiss into your cheek.
"I'll wash you up in a sec."
"In a bit... Stay with me."
"I'm staying with you forever. Good luck getting rid of me now."
Your laughter sent a pang through his chest. He wanted to keep hearing it.
He brought your hand up to his lips, gently kissed each wounded finger, muttering his I love yous and praises until you both drifted off. Sated and warm under the sheets, tangled up in each other; with a single promise echoing through his head.
Never again would he let you hurt like this.
And whatever was happening outside of these four walls hardly mattered.
This was all that mattered.
This was home.
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buckyalpine · 6 months
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Imagine jealous!sharon want to get you out of the way so she can be with Bucky…
She hurts you (even it’s like a bruise) and Bucky begins to be so protective of you 🥺🥵
ABSOLUTELY.
I'm imaging this with a soft sweet reader and fuckboi Bucky. Hear me out, okay.
He's not looking for a relationship at all, finally feeling a sense of freedom after getting a bit of himself back. He's so flirty with everyone, so charming, he knows he can get whoever he wants.
He fucks.
A lot.
Sharon eats it up, loving the smirks he gives her, his playful baby blue eyes always sparkling. She loves the naughty way he bites his lip and don't even get her started on how gorgeous he is when he works out shirtless. His Brooklyn accent comes out when he calls her darlin' and it makes her weak in the knees.
There's just one issue.
The looks he gives Sharon aren't special. She's not the only one he calls darlin', even the old lady at the coffee shop shares the same pet name. Bucky can't help the little smirks he tosses around to others, flirty compliments naturally falling from his lips. He's a bit of a heart breaker but it's who he is.
That's just Bucky.
That's Bucky with everyone else.
Then there's Bucky with you.
The quite lab assistant who worked at the compound.
He didn't have it in him to playfully flirt with you when you asked about his day. He actually liked talking to you, finding any excuse under the sun to keep the conversation going, poking at the little nick knacks you have on your desk so he doesn't have to leave so quickly.
Sharon hates the way he looks at you. Whenever he's around you, he looks at you with puppy eyes as if he's wondering how someone so sweet could possibly exist. She catches onto the way he's not the same with you as he is with others. He's called everyone in passing darlin' with a drawl of his voice but you're his doll. He's never used that with anyone else. That's reserved just for you.
She can't stand it.
At first she tries to pick you apart in subtle ways' maybe you'd finally realize you had no business talking to someone like Bucky.
"You're so pretty even though you wear glasses"
"Don't worry, that dress would still look good on your body type, its meant to suit everyone"
"I wish I was as brave as you to wear that! I'd love to have that much confidence but I could never"
She smiled sweetly while you pulled your lab coat closer together, clutching it tightly in your hand. Your heart sank to your stomach. You'd worn one of your favorite dresses, one many others had always said you looked perfect in but some how Sharon made you doubt that, despite her sugary smile.
Then she took it a step further to make sure you were more isolated, insisting you'd be uninterested in plans when the team wanted to go out. Purposely giving you extra work when they had drinks together. Anything to keep you sad and holed away in your lab while she kept Bucky all to herself.
She'd do anything to get rid of you.
She was almost certain everything was going accordingly to plan, inching closer and closer to Bucky during a movie night until she was pressed against him, sharing his blanket. Not that Bucky noticed since he was more distracted over the fact that Sam was also squished against him on the other side of the small couch. Sam was also buried under the now too hot blanket, his deep snores irrupting the movie having fell asleep on Bucky's shoulder.
"Damn bird brain" Bucky huffed, ignoring the fact that he pushed Sharon off while reluctantly adjusting himself so Sam's head wouldn't slip, shaking his head when Sam grumbled, trying to snuggle into Bucky more.
"Bet you wish that was y/n, huh" Tony wiggled his eyebrows and much to Sharon's distain, Bucky blushed. Not did he deny it.
It didn't matter though. She'd find a way to get Bucky's attention, it wasn't like you were real competition anyways. She figured you'd have the sense to like someone better suited for you, someone in your league, definitely not the very handsome Sergeant.
That was until she found out you had a crush on the super soldier yourself. You'd let it slip out during a conversation with Nat, not realizing there was someone near the lab. Sharon didn't think you actually had a chance with Bucky but it didn't matter.
At this point she didn't care about what it took.
She was sick of the way Bucky was soft over you.
So she took a more direct approach.
"Y'know, I heard someone has a little crush on a certain super soldier" Sharon smirked, wandering to your table, tinkering with one of your tools while you looked at her like a deer caught in head lights.
How did she know?!"
"I-I don't-
"Oh please y/n, everyone knows" the blonde rolled her eyes at your gaping mouth before continuing, "I just thought I should let you know that he's not interested"
You felt like you had been punched in the stomach, the hurt expression on your face made her satisfied,.
"Oh" Was all you mustered out, embarrassed beyond belief while she shrugged. You blinked back tears while Sharon squeezed your shoulder out of faux concern, handing you a tissue.
"I'm so sorry, honestly I just thought you should know because he likes me. And I like him. So it would be best for you to move on, because were seeing each other" It didn't matter if it was a lie because she intended on making it real soon enough.
From that day, you avoided everyone in the compound like the plague, throwing yourself into work, feeling ridiculous for having even thought of Bucky that way. Of course he'd never go for someone like you, you should've known that from the start.
Sharon's plan was short lived after she overheard Bucky worriedly asking Tony about where you'd been all week since he hadn't seen you. After some endless teasing, Tony reassured him you were fine and just busy with lab work, not knowing the true reason as to why you'd overloaded yourself.
Sharon despised the pink that decorated Bucky's cheeks whenever someone said your name.
She hated that she'd seen him walking by the lab hallway in search of you.
She'd do anything to end all of this.
Including hurt you.
-
You made your way down to the gym hoping to sweat some of your unrequited feelings away, putting on your headphones before hopping on the treadmill. Sharon walked in moments later, blonde hair pulled into a sleek ponytail, her toned body on full display in nothing but a sports bra and some tiny shorts.
You felt even worse.
You tried to stay hidden, deciding 15 minutes would be enough, though your escape was cut short with Sharon caught your arm just as you were about to leave.
"How about we spar for a bit" She smiled sweetly, giggling at your confused expression. You'd never sparred in your life, in fact this was probably the third time you'd even used the gym the entire time you'd lived at the compound.
"Sharon, I-I don't think that's a good idea, I've never-
She cut you off, dragging you to the mat, practically shoving you to the middle with more force than necessary.
"It's fine! I mean, it's good for you to learn since you work here n'all C'mon, I'll help you and show you what to do" Before you could say anything, Sharon had flipped you onto the mat, twisting your arm behind your back without warning. You gasped in pain as she gripped harder, pulling further up your back until she heard your joints crack.
"Let-let go" You winced out, confused over what part of sparring this was, your body hitting the floor when she released her grip.
"Ops" Sharon pouted with faux innocence, taking a long sip from her water while you hissed in pain, seeing the formation of a bruise already forming on your arm.
"SHARON"
Sharon squeaked in surprised at the loud voice that boomed through the gym, bouncing off the walls. Her eyes shot up to see a very angry super solder making his way over to the mat, eyes darkening as they landed to your injured form on the ground.
"What the fuck did you do?!"
"Bucky, we were just-
"Don't" Bucky growled through gritted teeth, rushing over to your side, and slipping his arm around your waist.
"Angel, are you okay?" He cupped your cheek, helping you to your feet and taking your hand in his, examining it with the utmost care. "Are you hurt anywhere?"
"M'all right" You nodded, your face heating up under his gaze, still a little shaken, your body trembling.
"How the fuck could you hurt her" Bucky spat, his metal hand clenched to his side, itching to punch Sharon in the jaw, having seen what she had just done but he didn't want to deal with the mess that would come afterwards. "The hell did you do that for"
"Excuse me? I was just showing her how to-"
Bucky's jaw clenched, instantly shutting her up. He refused to let go of you, keeping you firmly tucked into his side, growing unbelievably protective over you.
"Fine, go ahead, I'm sure she's different from all your other little side pieces" Sharon scoffed, smirking at the way your face fell. Bucky felt like he'd been hit in the chest; you were far more than any of his hook ups and he'd never considered treating you that way.
"You. Don't. Touch. Her" He glared her at before walking off with you. After the incident, Bucky insisted you go to the doctors to get checked over, waiting outside of the room like a kicked puppy. He couldn't help but feel guilty that all this had happened because of him. He also wondered that you thought.
Did you think he'd just use you for one night?
He would never.
He knew he wasn't into dating. He gave up on the dream of getting married, having kids, all that years ago. But that was before he met you. Ever since you'd thrown him a shy smile along with the softest hello Sergeant Barnes, Bucky had been a goner.
If his feelings were was bad before, it was even worse now.
You were told to ice your arm for the pain and swelling. Bucky had swept you away right to the kitchen, despite you telling him you'd be fine, plopping you onto the kitchen island wrapping an ice pack in a towel. He held it to your arm, frowning at the way you refused to look at him, your face downcast to the floor.
"Doll?" Bucky wrapped his arms around you for a comforting hug, wondering if the altercating with Sharon was still upsetting you, "Are you okay sweets? I missed you, haven't seen you in ages"
"I-I'm fine, I'm sorry" You pulled away from his arms, remembering Sharon's words from earlier, instantly missing the warmth of his body. "I know you don't feel the same way Bucky" You bit your lip to keep it from trembling.
Bucky blinked in confusion, having no idea what you were talking about. What did he not feel the same way over.
"What do you mean y/n"
"I mean I like you-but I know you don't like me that way so I kept myself busy so I wouldn't bother you because Sharon said-
"Wait, slow down, what did Sharon say"
You sighed before recounting all the things that had lead to this moment, Sharon insulting you, then telling you to back off, to straight up fighting you.
"Oh doll" Bucky shook his head, feeling worse over what had happened but over the moon over your confessed feelings, "She's right you know," He teased at the pout that made it's way to your lips before playfully pecking them, catching you by surprise.
"I don't do relationships. Certainly never had before. That was before I met the sweetest thing in the world and she's had my heart since" Bucky whispered, his hands, one warm, one cool cupping your cheeks, "She has me dreamin' of sayin' I do and that white picket fence, a ring on her finger, a pretty little baby bump with flowers on the window sill. Maybe a baby boy n' a baby girl. Maybe even a cat. She's the cutest little lab assistance and I'd love for her to be my girl, sweets"
Bucky held your face in his hands, his thumbs caressing over your warm cheeks while you grew bashfully shy, burying your face into his chest instead, making him chuckle.
"I didn't think you were the relationship type" You shrugged, toying with his dog tags, "I'm not you're darlin' Bucky"
"That's cause you're my doll" Bucky tilted your face up making you look up at him, his lips pressing the softest kiss to your nose and then your lips. "My one and only doll"
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ozzgin · 4 months
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Yandere! Yakuza x Reader (II)
Reader is cozying up to her unusual home, and her new friend decides to surprise her with a romantic gift. Or at least what he considers to be romantic: a small reminder that no one else can mess with her. Continuation to the yakuza landlord idea!
[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5]
Content: Female reader, obsessive behavior, mentions of stalking, violence, death, mild gore
Tags: @depressed-but-make-it-cute
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You search for your keys and open the postal box, retrieving a thick envelope. You've been living at the new apartment for several weeks now and truth be told, you could get used to this lifestyle. Your commute to work is much shorter, the path is never devoid of people, and there are multiple bakeries on the way back with some of the best pastries you've tasted in your life.
You turn around and look for Daitou, somewhat distracted and dreamy. It really feels like a Hallmark movie. A peaceful, idyllic life. Ah, there he is! The scarred man is standing guard before one of the stores. The curtains have been pulled, blocking any glimpse of the inside. You walk towards him with a certain joyful bounce in your step. As you approach him, you can hear muffled screams coming from the building. He notices you and flashes you a smile. 
"Don't come too close, I hear the owner's been avoiding his loan payment and getting all friendly with the neighboring Family. We're questioning him in the back."
"Don't you usually do the interrogations?" 
"Only if we don't need them afterwards. I'm not too good at keeping them alive, ya know?" He scratches the back of his head and laughs awkwardly. "Do you need anything?"
You open your mouth to speak, but it's a little difficult to formulate a full sentence with the interrupted moans and cries occasionally making their way out. The door is ajar and you avoid glancing in its direction, fixating on the man before you. 
"I...uh... just wanted to know if this letter is intended for me or the landlord. It looks like an official document."
You show Daitou the envelope and just as he is about to grab it, he notices the blood stains seeped into his glove. He quickly removes it, wipes his hand on his shirt, and nonchalantly plucks the paper from your fingers.
"That's for Boss. I'll pass it on, so don't worry."
You nod and bow slightly before hurrying back home. Well, doesn't make it less of a movie, you suppose. Just more of a thriller. Or something like that. You drop your bag, slip off your shoes and throw yourself onto the futon with a loud thud. The warmth of the sheets envelops you and the wails of the shop owner become but a distant dream. 
Without the worry of stalkers, or finding a roof above your head, you can finally rest. 
Tonight is rather dark, with the moon shrouded in heavy clouds. Daitou yawns silently as he observes the masked man testing out passcodes for the entrance. Every now and then he lets out a whispered curse, crossing out another number combination on his little crumpled note. It doesn't take a genius to figure out this is the famed stalker you'd complained about earlier. No one else currently lives in the building. 
Eventually, the keypad lights up and the door unlocks. The mysterious man lifts a fist victoriously and reaches for the handle. 
"Oop! Not so fast!" Daitou drops his heavy, sinewy arm over the man's shoulders, pulling him in a friendly embrace. Like two old pals meeting at an intersection. "Let's take a walk together, what do you say? (Y/N) sleeps until noon on weekends, no need to hurry."
With a grunt, the stalker tries to shove himself out of the tightening hold, but the yakuza doesn't budge. He towers over his new friend with an unfaltering, unbothered grin. 
"Now listen, I don't blame you one bit, ya know? I ain't blind, at least not in this eye", he continues as he points to the real counterpart of his glass prosthetic, "so I'm damn well aware of a pretty girl when I see one. And (Y/N)? That's some good taste alright." 
He gives the man an affectionate pat over the chest, pulling him away from the building into one of the side streets. 
"If you want, we can have a drink before the deed, I know a good place five minutes from here. We can share some stories of our favorite girl, eh?" Daitou looks at his watch, feigning mild concern. "But I'm afraid you're not leaving this neighborhood either way. In one piece, that is." 
His arm goes limp and the masked man is released from the iron hold, tripping over from the sudden lack of support. He crawls against a wall and fumbles for something, swiftly pulling out what seems to be a pocket knife. His breathing is erratic and he points the tip of the blade towards the yakuza, now with his features darkened by a frown. He sounds like an entirely different person and the instant switch to a ragged voice startles the stranger.
"See, the trouble is, I promised miss (Y/N) I wouldn't allow a fucking dog like you to be in her presence ever again. Sadly for you, I'm a man of my word." Despite the threatening tone, his posture is relaxed and he stands before the stalker with his hands bare. 
"If I were you, I'd use that little butter knife on my own throat. I don't go easy on horny cockroaches. Especially the ones that mess with my woman." His final words spill out in a bitter growl. 
A small animal in the trashing jaws of a predator. Blood splatters and pools in the asphalt cracks and drained hands claw at the walls, hoping for an escape. As despair sinks in, the alleyway becomes quiet again, save for the merry whistle of the remaining party. Daitou carefully ties the trash bags with the focus of a child wanting to impress the parents with a chore well done. Halfway through he stops and gasps, surprised.
"Oh man, did I really just say 'my woman'? How embarrassing." He blushes and shyly pushes the wrapped slabs away. "I haven't even asked her out yet, ya know? Better not rat me out, Mr. Stalker." He snickers at his monologue and continues the cleanup. 
"Can you really not refrain yourself from smoking in here?" You try to fan away the puff of smoke, scowling at the young blonde man sitting across the table. 
"Why do you even care so much?" Kazuya groans and stuffs the remains of the cigarette in the ashtray.
"I don't want my carrot cake tasting like tobacco. You're lucky the old man is afraid of you, otherwise you would've gotten your ass banned a long time ago."
"You know, I've been thinking about it lately - haven't you gotten quite the attitude? You have a big mouth for someone surrounded by dangerous gangsters. I could blow your brains out right now." 
He lowers himself in his seat and briefly lifts his shirt, flashing a carelessly tucked in gun. He stares at you for a few seconds, as if expecting a reaction, then lets out a chuckle upon seeing your indifferent expression. 
"Shameless. You could at least try to pretend you don't know I have a soft spot for you."
"Just a wild guess, but your Boss probably wouldn't appreciate you shooting civilians in the middle of a café. That's all." You respond with a shrug. 
Your banter is interrupted by Daitou's heavy footsteps nearing in your direction. Kazuya waves, signaling your location, and kicks a chair out, inviting his friend to join. 
"Where the hell were you last night? I thought you'd come with us for drinks after that long ass questioning."
"Sorry, I had to take care of something." Daitou returns an apologetic smile and tilts his head to gaze at you. "Which reminds me, I brought you this."
Your eyes widen in surprise and a faint red tints your cheeks. Was there some special occasion you didn't know about? He places a small box in your hands and leans back in his chair with a cheerful smirk on his face. Kazuya watches the interaction, equally curious as you. 
You open the mysterious gift, giddy with anticipation. The nauseating smell abruptly invades your nostrils and you can feel the contents of your stomach bubble up and pile at the back of your throat. You gag involuntarily and slap your hands over your mouth, as the box tumbles down. A single severed human finger and some teeth glistening with moisture roll out. 
"What the fuck is wrong with you?!"
Kazuya jumps from his seat, toppling over the table in the process, and lunges at Daitou's throat. The latter can only stare in shock, baffled at a reaction he didn't foresee. There's genuine confusion shaping his features.
"But-...I thought..."
"What the hell did you think, that you'd show up with fucking human remains over some tea and cake?! Jesus, Daitou, she ain't our Lieutenant!"
"But I did- I did tell (Y/N) I'd..." he tries to find you with a pleading, worried look. 
Once the risk of vomiting on the floor has diminished, you shove yourself between the men and gently try to remove Kazuya's arm, still clawed around the other man's throat.
"Let him go, Kazuya. He didn't mean to scare me." You glance at Daitou reassuringly. "Does that mean the stalker guy is now a solved matter?"
The yakuza nods energetically, his eyes now sparkling with pride. He knew you'd understand. Once the tension is lifted, you quickly sweep the gory tokens back into their box and explain the situation to Kazuya. He collapses back in his seat with a frustrated sigh, facepalming himself. 
"I'm so sorry, (Y/N), I should've told you he's being serious when he says shit like this." He glares at his friend. "She didn't actually expect you to go ahead and do it, dumbass. Couldn't you just mention it or something? 'Hey, I took care of that pervert following you around'! You think she would've demanded proof?"
Daitou is nervously fidgeting with his glass eye, as if searching for the proper words.
"But you always say women will like you more if you surprise them with gifts." He concludes with a pout.
There's a prolonged moment of silence and you burst our laughing, as the blonde simultaneously lets out an exasperated whine. You cannot get over the bizarre sight in front of you: someone as massive and imposing as Daitou, cornered like a punished school boy. 
"See, this is what I've been telling Boss. You're a lost cause." Kazuya rests his elbows on his knees, closing the distance between him and Daitou and continuing with a lecturing tone. "If you got a crush on someone, you bring them flowers or something! What are you, a crackhead? Do I have to teach you basic manners?"
"More importantly, uh...what should I do with these? I guess jewelry made of teeth is a thing, but the finger? Won't it go bad?" you cautiously dangle the package next to your ears, listening to the rustle of its contents. 
Kazuya rips the box from you.
"I'm starting to suspect you don't have all the tiles on your roof either. I'll get rid of it, so you better pretend nothing ever happened. Are we clear?"
Both you and Daitou nod obediently.
On your way back, the man can't help the excitement building up in his chest. You liked his gift, didn't you? He hasn't done anything wrong. Does that make it official, then? As he ponders the implications, he peeks at your small frame, barely managing to keep up with him. Would it be alright if he reached for your hand? Is he supposed to ask first? All these steps confuse him to no end.
Nonetheless, he couldn't be more thankful for you. 
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sugar-coated-slut · 5 months
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𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢, 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮, 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮, 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨, 𝐒𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚; 𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐡𝐨𝐠 𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐥𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: cam girl!!reader, gangbang, bondage, fingering, face fucking, dacryphilia, choking you with their cocks, light anal with a tip dragon’s tongue, taking nude pictures, degradation/praise/light mocking, pain kink, biting, toji slaps your face with his cock, begging, bdsm
oreo: couldn't stop thinking about this idea of them finding out reader is a cam girl and filming with her, I’m thinking of making this a mini series of them filing various acts with the reader, y’all down for that?
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The dark red rope binding your wrists to your ankles, strapped and held apart by a short bar. Looping over your shoulders forcing your back into an arch, keeping your head up. You're vulnerable and small surrounded by five massive men.
He glances at the stream's rising numbers, two hundred becoming five becoming one thousand. “Damn these people are fast n' horny, did y’all miss your -what is it-" he smirks, "Princess Buttercup that much?”
Glancing at the chat, gushing in their excitement already suggesting various things for the group to do to you. Toji reads aloud, “Thought she filmed alone only? Release the princess at once?" Wiggling his phone at the camera. "The fuck is this bullshit? I'm cummin' in her cunt and then again on her face 'cause fuck you.” Slapping your ass, tossing his phone onto the middle of the bed.
"More!" Your body lurches forward with the force of Toji's next slap. Crying Satoru stuffs his veiny cock deep into your mouth, choking you. Quickly pumping his hips, his balls hitting your chin.
Satoru croons “Ya'll hear that? Our demanding bratty Princess wants more.” Gliding his cock out. "Tell everyone in chat what you want us to do to you.” Stroking his cock, coaxing out thick pre cum he smears on your lips.
Licking the pre-cum off your lips, looking up at Satoru. "Anything ya'll want, fuck whatever hole you want! Please I wanna be y’all’s cum dump!" Sticking your tongue out, moaning when he stuffs his veiny cock deep into your mouth.
Choso slides two thick fingers along your lips, wetting his fingers. “Let the audience know our safe word, and color system to ease anyone’s worry.” Smearing your slick onto your puffy, sensitive clit. Gently swirling his thumb around your tight hole.
Satoru loudly moans, fucking your mouth with deep, quick strokes. His balls hit your chin. "Nnn fuckin' slut, your mouth is so fucking wet and hot. Your lips are so damn beautiful wrapped around my cock. Nn that's it, beautiful slut." Groaning on his cock, another warm fatter cockhead nudges your cheek smearing pre-cum.
Satoru slips his cock out with a loud pop. "It's mocha to start aftercare, red for a break, yellow for slow down, green for good." Turning your head, mouth open, tongue out, eager to suck on the cock next to you. Taking Sukuna's thicker cock with a moan, his thick cock muffling the sound. A puffy vein glides along your soft tongue with each quick rough thrust.
Choso gently nudging past your lips. You'd moan from the pleasure of his thick fingers filling you up. "Good girl, your cunt's so tight n soft 'round my fingers." Gradually pumping his fingers faster, curling them. Your cunt clenching when he brushes your sweet spot.
Sukuna glides his cock out; you don't have time to catch your breath before Satoru stuffs his cock in. Your computer reads out. "Cumguzzler3 donates 600: white haired one moans like a whore, what's his channel. Or will this become a group channel, I'd pay to see ya'll using her as the house’s glory hole."
Followed by; "Dopedaddy42069 donated 1k: Any1 who cums in her ass gets 2k. She started experimenting with her ass. She has several drawers full of toys; u can find something." You hear a few drawers open.
Suguru wonders, "What should be the first thing we stuff up her ass?" The bed shifts when Toji gets up, joining Suguru by your large drawer. He pulls out a part of a dragon's mouth. Open with its long thick tongue slimming down to a small point. Ridges on the bottom offer another challenge besides the tongue's thickness.
Holding it up between Suguru and himself. "What 'bout this thing? Wonder how deep our pretty whore can take it." Suguru grabs the lube, squirting a generous amount onto the tongue's small tip. Toji smears it down its thickening length, walking over back to where you're hogtied at the edge of your bed.
Satoru and Sukuna are taking turns with fucking your mouth. Choso is restlessly stroking your sweet spot. Trembling, unable to close to legs or twist your hips away. You haven't even cummed yet the pleasure is too intense.
Suguru grabs the camera off its stand, "We have to take turns holding the camrea, I want to be able to jerk off to this later without ya'lls pale ass cheeks getting in the way from it being on a stand still." Your eyes are burning with tears when Satoru pulls his cock out.
You're gasping for air, your lungs burning, a few tears trickling down your cheeks. Sukuna fists his cock faster, your cunt clenching from the slick sound. “Aw our slut is cryin’ already!” He glides his thumb over his head, smearing pre-cum over his head. Sticking your tongue out for Sukuna to easily fuck your mouth.
Satoru suggests, "Let's take a few pictures, I want to change out my Home Screen and background. " He gets his phone, passing Sukuna's to him. He grabs a handful of your hair, holding your head still forcing his thick, veiny cock deep into your mouth.
Holding still with his cock stuffed deep, your nose touching the short dark patch of hair above his cock. Flashes go off as Satoru and Sukuna take pictures. "Dommymommy09 donated 600: post the pictures I'll pay more for them."
You’re getting off on how their taking pictures as you’re cumming on Choso’s thick fingers, with your mouth stuffed full of Sukuna’s cock. So many people are watching, touching themselves, wishing they could be you in between five beautiful, horny, muscular men.
Choso slips his phone out of his gym shorts. Recording the mess of your beautiful cunt getting sloppier. "She's gonna be on the verge of passing out when we are done with her." Choso roughly bites your cheek, groaning when you cry around Sukuna's cock.
Kissing the sharply stinging when before fully pulling away. Slapping your ass, Sukuna glides his cock out, the soft ridge of his head dragging along your tongue. Swirling your tongue around him when he pauses. “Fuck that’s it, cock hungry slut suckin’ on me like that.” Loosening his hold on your hair, letting you bob your head. Spit dripping down your chin.
Choso glides his fingers out, sticking them in his mouth sucking them clean. Suguru gets behind you, giving everyone a close up of your sloppy cunt. Spreading your lips apart. “Look at her poor little cunt clenching nothing.” Choso takes the camera from Suguru, wrapping his hand around his cock.
Smearing his pre cum with thumb, Choso bites his bottom lip trying to keep from moaning right next to the mic. Holding the camera steady, recording the mess Toji, Suguru, Satoru and Sukuna are making of you.
Suguru lines his cock up, slamming his thick, veiny cock into your sensitive, tight cunt. Groaning, taking the toy from Toji, nudging the tip of the dragon’s tongue into your ass.
Sukuna glides his cock out, letting Toji take his place in front. Toji slaps you across the face with his fat cock. Moaning with your tongue stuck out for Toji to use your mouth. “Looks like I’m cumming on ya face first, before I stuff your pretty little ass.” Stuffing his cock into your sore mouth, stuffing his head in deep.
"Lovefatpussy7 donated 300: seeing her play with herself makes my cock hard but I want to see her get treated like the whore she is."
"Spookygothybitchy69 donated 900: first time taking a cock on camera and it's a group, get it girl, i'm dripping wet n’ wishing I was you”
oreo creampie's m.list
Cam girl!reader x group m.list
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peachesofteal · 4 months
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Light On - single mom/neighbors fic Simon Riley/female reader Prompt: Your apartment floods. Inspired by and for @liliumbosniacum
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"I need to take leave."
Simon's phone is pressed against his face, one hand holding the device, the other with a canvas bag in his hand, it's contents overflowing: blankets, baby clothes, your pillow.
"Everything alright?" Price sounds suspicious, but more curious than anything, and Simon sighs.
"Neighbor's flat flooded. She's got nowhere else to go so I'm letting 'em stay with me for a while." Price, thank fucking god, doesn't push it any further, disconnecting with a rumble about checking in with him next week, wishing him a happy holiday, and a parting good luck.
When he hangs up, you're standing hesitantly in his doorway, pile of clothes in your arms.
"That the last of it?" He asks, and you nod.
"Are y-you sure this is okay?" You're still upset, shaken, and he doesn't blame you. You were terrified when you woke up to bone chilling, ankle deep water, frantically shouting about a burst pipe into the phone over Emmaline's shrieks.
"It's okay, sweetheart. I've got plenty of room." He does. His flat is larger than yours, and though they're both two bedroom floor plans, his bedrooms are bigger, and he has two bathrooms, compared to your one. "I got the crib reassembled in the guest room." He motions to the door that's half opened, a few bags of Emmaline's stuff collected on the floor.
"Thank you." you murmur, and then step forward, burying your face in his chest. He holds you there, rubbing your back, working his thumb into the knot that sits at the base of your neck. “At least we saved the tree,” you laugh, wet and sad, and he hums, bowing to press his lips to your forehead.
“I’m sorry love.”
“It’s alright.” You shrug. “Nothing I could control.” You’ve got a point there, and he appreciates the approach, marvels at your ability to not be angry or frustrated with your neighbor, even though it wasn’t really their fault as well. He’s irritated for both of you, anxious over visualizing what would have happened if the chunk of the ceiling that fell was misplaced and landed on you, or Emma.
You pull away, face twisted up into something that looks painful, tears on your lash line, and he frowns. “Hey, hey. It’s okay, sweetheart, c’mon. It’s alright.”
“I know.” You cry, clamping your hand over the bridge of your nose and trying to turn away. “It’s just all her gifts we-were in my room and now they’re ruined, and-“
“Okay, so we’ll get more. We still have plenty of time.” He reassures, rubbing his palms up and down your arms until you come back to him, letting him fold you back into his embrace. “We’ll fix it. Don’t worry.”
“We will?” You sniffle, and he nods.
“I’m on leave, until after the holiday, so I’ll be around, we can go shopping and replace everything. It’s going to be alright. I promise.” That word slips out of him again, promise. I promise, just like he told you this morning when you were frantic and he said it was okay that you stayed with him, I promise, just like he assured last night when you apologized for Emmaline crying for most the evening. “Okay?” His chin rests on the top of your head, and he turns to kiss you, the touch as soft as he can manage. You hum, and then sigh into him.
“Okay Simon.”
“I’ll sleep on the couch.”
“No.” His refusal is immediate, and you look at him in near exasperation.
“Simon I can’t kick you out of your bed! You’re too big for the couch, anyway, and I don’t mind, I’ve slept on a couch plenty. Plus I’ll be able to hear better, when Emmaline wakes-“
“Sweetheart.” You’re in the living room, bouncing Emmaline in your arms, walking back and forth in front of the fireplace. She’s wearing a red and white striped onesie, like a candy cane, and Simon chuckles when she makes grabby hands at him as he approaches. You sigh, and he tucks his hands under her, lifting her away and into his arms, pleased at how you instantly relax and stretch your back and shoulders in response. “Think you’re getting too big for mama, baby girl.” You roll your eyes, playfully knocking your elbow into his side, and he grunts. “You’re not kicking me out of my own bed.”
“No?” You turn with a hand on your hip, other one holding a half full bottle.
“No, well. I mean-“ he falters, suddenly losing his confidence. “I’m happy to let you have it, or…” He can’t get the words right, can’t communicate what it is he wants to tell you, too worried about scaring you off or being too forward, pushing you too far.
“Or?” You look so pretty, standing in his flat, your belongings, Emma’s, strewn about, just your presence alone making this place feel more like a home than it ever has before. He feels dizzy, overflowing with emotion when Emma lays her head down on his chest, and you smile at her, looking back up at him, delicate, sweet smile on your lips. He bends, tilting your face upwards to meet his, lips ghosting against one another as Emma coos from his arms.
“Or… we can share it.”
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steddiewithachance · 3 months
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I'm Here on Business
Wayne is a regular at the bookstore Steve works at and badgers Steve into going on a blind date with his kid.
For @extocancer Happy New Years!!! I hope you enjoy your presents ◡̈
***
It's a quiet night in the little bookstore on the corner of Brinks and Williams. Steve is sitting behind the check-out counter flicking the leaf of a potted pothos placed next to the register. Soft music plays from the radio behind him.
Steve likes taking the evening shifts at the shop just to see the place warmly lit up by all of the eclectic and ornate lamps that Amber, the owner, has collected. The store doesn't give him migraines from obnoxious fluorescent light, which has been an issue at previous jobs.
Ever since Robin moved out of their apartment for Grad school, it's been upsetting to be at home alone at night. Without her company, the couch feels longer. And without her unhinged apartment decor, the walls feel taller and colder. Consequently, Steve has taken on more work hours instead of being home.
Plus, he has kind of fallen in love with reading. It came as a shock to him that he could enjoy it as much as he does. It started when his all-female team of coworkers began ranting to each other about these romance novels they were all into. He felt a little left out and decided to give one of them a try. It turns out that reading was actually a really great coping mechanism for dealing with his temporary loss of Robin.
The nicest, and most surprising thing to come out of this job though, is probably Wayne. A one-time customer turned regular, turned tentative friend for Steve. He's got a caring, parental energy that Steve's own parents never had.
The guy looks like he'd have a gruff or standoffish personality. His face naturally rests in a frown and he's got receding grey hair. He wears a flannel every day without fail; he's got a million different colors of them and Steve has even made a game of predicting which one he'll be wearing when he comes in.
"Did ya guess right today, boy?" Wayne will ask.
"No," Steve often admits glumly. "The universe told me you'd be wearing your green and blue one."
So anyway, Wayne comes around a lot to make small talk. He often mentions how he misses his son, Eddie. He's so stiff with personal information about his kid, but one time he let it slip that Eddie was on tour with his band. Steve had a field day afterward colluding with Google to find out exactly who Wayne's son was.
Eddie Munson, lead singer and guitarist of rock group Corroded Coffin.
Steve hadn't heard of ‘em but they certainly have a following. He listened to some of their stuff, to give himself some context for the next time Wayne brought up Eddie's music. It was nice enough, the guy has a good voice.
Steve's been waiting for Wayne to come in tonight. He's later than usual and it would be ridiculous for Steve to worry about a man who probably just thinks of Steve as that one kid who works at the bookstore. He may not come in at all tonight, and that would be fine too. Steve's still holding out on him pulling up in his... yellow flannel.
Steve's about to cave and start the next book in the current series he's reading when the door jingles. Wayne pushes inside in his mother fucking yellow flannel.
"Yellow Flannel!" Steve exclaims. Wayne chuckles and drops a book on the counter followed by a receipt.
"You got me right today?" Wayne asks fondly.
"Yup. It's been a while. I was aching for a win." Steve starts returning Wayne's book for him without giving him slack this time. Wayne treats the store like a library and Steve doesn't have the heart to tell him it's not allowed.
"Was this book any good?" Steve throws Wayne's receipt back at him and starts moving around the counter to put it back on the shelf for some other historical fiction lover to purchase.
"It was just alright." Wayne follows behind him languidly, eyeing the rows of colorful book spines for something that catches his eye. "But actually I'm here on business tonight."
Steve leans on the shelf and waits impatiently for Wayne to tell him what sort of business he's on.
"I think you ought to go on a date with Eddie. I think you two'd compliment each other."
Well, that's... not what Steve was expecting to hear.
"That's business to you? You came here to set me up on a blind date with your famous kid? I think he's gonna be a tad underwhelmed by a bookstore employee, Wayne." Steve's not gonna lie, he's a little intrigued by the prospect of dating a musician. He read a romance novel about one, not that long ago. Concerts, greenroom intimacy, targeted lyrics: Steve could be into it, in theory.
And ultimately, Steve did see photos of Eddie on Google and he's attractive. He looks good holding a guitar.
"He's gonna be home for a while so I figured now's a good time. Just go on one date. He's a big softie, you'll like him." Wayne pulls a book off the shelf and squints to try and read the title. He holds it further from his eyes before giving up and pushing it back into its slot.
"What happens if he doesn't like me? Will you still come around?" Steve runs a nervous hand through his hair. It wouldn't be the end of the world if Wayne stopped showing up, but it would probably hurt a little. It might fan the flame of his fear of abandonment.
"Of course, unless you break his heart. I know where you work, young man." Wayne pats his shoulder good-naturedly.
"Okay old man, you need my number to hand off?"
***
A day later, when Steve feels his phone buzz against his thigh, his instincts already know who it is. His heart gives that anticipatory squeeze he often gets before a first date with someone he finds attractive.
The text reads:
Hi Steve, this is eddie. Wayne swears we're soulmates. Wanna get dinner on friday?
It's a funny text to receive out of nowhere. Steve doubts Wayne actually used that word, but he imagines that Eddie is probably getting more of an earful than Steve got about this whole blind date. He also wonders what kind of person calls their dad by their first name.
Hi Eddie. I'd love to get dinner on Fri and discuss our soulmate status. I'm pretty sure he expects us to be married by the end of the night. Should I bring my tux? Also do you have a time and place in mind?
The master of puppets (Wayne) suggested we go to Maggiano's, are you okay with Italian? 8 maybe??? Tux optional but I think I will not be wearing one.
Haha. That sounds good Eddie, it's nice to hear from you. I'll see you soon.
***
Steve has to ask Amber to change his shift for Friday to work in the morning instead of the evening.
"Steve has somewhere other than work to be on a Friday night? Unheard of!" She slaps her palms down on the book display she was laying out.
"I know. I'm surprised too." Steve fiddles with his lanyard and gives her a 'please say yes' smile. She sighs.
"Yeah, I'll cover you. You can take my morning slot."
"Thank you! I owe you, boss."
***
When Friday arrives, Steve has the nervous jitters. It's been about a year since his last date, it didn't go very well. He's flattered that Wayne thinks highly enough of him to set him up with his kid.
Steve picks up a few small gifts for Eddie on his way home from work. He always brings his first dates a little something. He likes to see the way their faces light up. He thinks maybe he should get Eddie something music-related. So he walks into a little music store he's never been in and asks for small gift ideas for guitarists. He walks out wearing a smile, and hoping Eddie digs what he bought him.
And he's all smiles and confidence until he pulls up to the restaurant at eight and realizes he didn't send a confirmation text this morning. That's like, a rule, right? What if Eddie doesn't show up?
Steve steps out of the car and is equally anxious and relieved to find him leaning artfully against the restaurant near the front door with his hands in his pockets.
His curls are haloed by the warm light spilling out of the restaurant window. He's wearing a dark button-down with the sleeves rolled up to reveal tattoos on his forearms. And yeah, okay, he's hot.
The fact that Steve's going on a date with someone sort of famous hasn't fully sunk in. He's not sure he needs the added nerves though. He approaches as casually as possible and smiles when Eddie looks over.
The man does a double-take when he sees Steve. His eyebrows shoot up and he pushes off against the wall to stand straighter.
"Hi, Eddie?" Steve steps up onto the curb with a little wave. Eddie gives him a thorough once over.
"Oh, damn. Hi." He pulls a hand out of his pocket to shake Steve's.
Eddie is pretty up close. He's got long eyelashes and a bridge of little freckles across his nose. Steve notices all the little details that the on-stage photos didn't capture. He wonders if Wayne described what he looked like to Eddie who was at an informational disadvantage.
"I don't know what I was expecting you to look like, but my uncle didn't mention you were model pretty." Eddie tucks one of his big curls behind his ear and then steps forward to open the door. Steve's face gets warm at being called "model pretty", but he's terrible at taking compliments. He tries to redirect the conversation.
"Your uncle?" Steve asks.
"Wayne? My uncle?" Eddie motions towards the open door and follows after Steve once he's inside.
"Oh. You know he tells people that you're his son?"
Eddie's face softens and he scratches at his cheek. "Oh. Yeah well, I basically am. Maybe I should start calling him dad, I don't know."
"We don't take walk-ins." The hostess of the restaurant announces, breaking up their small talk. Steve looks over to see a tall woman with a slicked-back ponytail mad-dogging them. She has a cold demeanor, she kills the mood with one look between them. Steve knows the look, he's sure Eddie does too.
"Good to know! I have a reservation, though." Eddie responds.
"What's the name?" The woman pulls her iPad closer to herself like a shield.
"Munson." Eddie glances at Steve nervously.
"Hm. I don't see it." She pretends, tapping around meaninglessly. Eddie is getting agitated and maybe embarrassed too. He's scratching at his arm, unsure of how to proceed. First dates are already so awkward, especially blind ones. And if there's one thing about Steve, it's that he's gonna try to lighten the mood.
"Don't you know who he is?" Steve asks offendedly. Eddie whips around to look at Steve with wide, panic-filled eyes. The hostess raises an eyebrow and looks more closely at Eddie. It makes Steve chuckle. "I'm just kidding, let's go get burgers or something." He grabs Eddie's hand and pulls him back out the door.
"Holy shit, you scared me. I didn't know you knew who I was." Eddie has a hand on his chest and a wild grin. "She definitely didn't."
"I was just messing around. She did not want to seat our gay date." Steve sticks his hands in his pockets and then remembers Eddie's gift. "Oh but hey! I got you something."
Steve pulls out a nice bar of chocolate and a little tin of black pearly guitar picks. He offers them to Eddie with an open palm.
"Oh, what? You didn't have to do that." Eddie grabs them eagerly and slides open the tin. "This is so nice! How'd you know I've been needing picks? Now I feel doubly bad about dinner falling through."
"Hey, if I'm honest, sit-down dinner dates kind of give me anxiety. Too much pressure to keep the conversation going." Steve pulls out his keys, "You like burgers?"
Eddie huffs dramatically. "My palette is far too sophisticated for greasy burgers, Steve. I'm a chicken nugget man, obviously."
"That makes sense. You look like one." Steve teases. Eddie pouts.
"I'm taking that as a compliment."
"If you want nuggets we can just walk down the street. Unless you want me to drive?" Steve points in the direction of the row of fast-food restaurants.
"Yeah, let's walk."
Steve slowly turns and starts walking, glancing invitingly over his shoulder.
"So you know me." Eddie rattles the tin of guitar picks and looks a little worried by the prospect that Steve is some sort of fan.
"Only through your uncle, really. And maybe a short Google search. Sue me." Steve holds up his hands guiltily.
"Oh yeah, Wayne's my marketing manager. I send him out to spread the good word."
"Well I don't know who you've been instructing him to market to, but he's spending all his time in my store making me read book summaries to him because he conveniently forgets his glasses every time he comes in." Steve deadpans. Eddie chuckles and shakes his head knowingly.
"Yeah, It's this new long-con form of marketing. We decided to go all in for just one new fan." Eddie's got these sweet little dimples on either cheek when he smiles.
"Kinda worked, I dunno. I'm charmed by the Munsons." Steve and Eddie are veering towards each other as they walk. They're set to collide like two little asteroids. When they do end up bumping shoulders, it's soft. They stay close after that.
Steve hears a truly horrible sound coming from a bar a few meters ahead of them.
"Oh shit! Karaoke bar!" Eddie exclaims and speeds over. Eddie stands in front of the fenced-off patio and looks in while someone butchers Guns N' Roses. He looks absolutely delighted.
"What, you want to go show off in front of these poor, tone-deaf drunkards?" Steve rests his arms on the little fence and leans forward. Eddie vehemently disagrees.
"God no, I just like hearing all the very talented Midwestern voices." Eddie wiggles his eyebrows to express his sarcasm. "In other words, I enjoy making fun of bad music. I'm only human."
They sit there and give each other pained looks at the bad voices for a few minutes until someone starts trying to drunkenly stumble over the verse to a Nicki Minaj song and then Eddie drags Steve away in anguish.
"Can't take it anymore, Steve. Spare me."
***
The two of them have a good rapport, Steve thinks as they sit on a curb and share a big box of chicken nuggets. Maybe Wayne was right. It's playful. He can see how Eddie and Wayne share a handful of mannerisms and a sense of humor.
"Let's intertwine our arms like newlyweds do when they drink champagne," Steve says with a ketchup-covered chicken nugget in his hand. He wraps an arm around Eddie's and then takes a bite. Eddie follows his lead and giggles.
"I didn't know they did that. I've never been to a wedding." Eddie swallows and reaches for his soda.
"What? Never?"
Eddie shakes his head and looks up at the night sky. It's too cloudy to see any stars, unfortunately.
"My tux is in the car, by the way, should things pan out tonight." Steve jokes.
"I think they're panning." Eddie winks and leans in slightly.
"Oh yeah? Have I lived up to Wayne's description of me?" Steve bats his eyelashes and gives Eddie a sweet little smile.
"You've exceeded it, sweetheart." Eddie picks up Steve's hand and presses a chaste kiss to the inside of his wrist. Steve's heart jumps. When Eddie pulls back, he doesn't pull back far.
"Do you ever kiss on a first date?" Eddie whispers and squeezes Steve's hand. He glances at Steve's lips.
"Mmm, I could be persuaded." Steve feels a heady rush at the fact that he has somehow won the interest of a successful musician who probably meets loads of people every day. Steve reaches forward and tugs at one of Eddie's loose curls. He twists it around his finger and looks up with big doe eyes.
The tension is cut from Eddie's body when Steve looks at him like that. The move has a pretty good success rate at this point. And it doesn't fail him tonight. Eddie rests a hand on the base of Steve's neck. He strokes his thumb back and forth against the hollow of Steve's collarbone and leans in slowly.
Eddie's warm lips press against his own gently, experimentally. Their lips make a sweet sound when the suction is broken and Eddie's immediately reseal against Steve like he's irresistible. It's been forever since Steve kissed anyone, especially anyone worth kissing. He forgot how sweet and floaty it feels.
The hand on Steve's collar slides up so it's lightly holding his neck, it feels quietly possessive. It makes Steve's face heat up. Eddie's free arm wraps around Steve's waist pulling him closer. He lets himself be pulled.
Eddie starts getting more confident and hums softly when Steve weaves a hand into his long hair.
Steve could keep this up for hours, he wants to. But as dark as it is, he doesn't love the idea of continuing this so out in the open. He pulls back with regret.
"Damn, how are you not already taken?" Eddie wipes at Steve's shiny lips with his thumb.
"How are you not already taken? You're the accomplished one." Steve counters, squeezing one of Eddie's knees.
Eddie gathers their trash around them and stuffs it into the paper bag. "Well, I'll be home for a while if you'd want to do this again sometime. I can take you to a nice restaurant next time, I promise." He stands to throw away the trash. "Damn, I don't want the night to be over..."
"It doesn't have to be, you're welcome at mine." Steve leans back on one of his hands and bats his eyelashes up at Eddie.
"My New Year's resolution was to not do first date hookups, though."
"We don't have to, just come hang out." Steve holds an arm out to be pulled up to his feet from where he’s still sitting on the curb.
"Oh, yeah okay. You want me to?" Eddie pulls him to his feet with more force than necessary. It sends them both stumbling and giggling.
"Obviously I want you to."
***
The walk back to the restaurant is much faster than it was at the start of the night. They regretfully have to split at the parking lot, each having their own ride.
"Wait, call me so we can still talk on the way there." Eddie requests before jogging off to Wayne's truck. There really isn't much need to talk on the phone since Steve lives so close, but it's kind of cute that he wants to. Steve hits the call button on Eddie's contact.
"Hello, to whom am I speaking?" Eddie asks in a formal, over-the-top voice.
"This is Steve Harrington. I'm contacting you regarding your car's extended warranty." Steve backs out of his spot and waits for Eddie to do the same before driving out of the parking lot.
"Oh wow, what a coincidence. I was just wondering if my car had an extended warranty." Eddie always plays along, he digs into all of Steve's jokes and finds his own spot to grow there.
Steve drives slower than he normally would so that he doesn't get separated from his date. Eddie doesn't appreciate the sentiment.
"You drive like a grandpa. Has anyone ever told you that?" Eddie laughs and honks his horn. Steve hears it both over the phone and from his window.
"I'm only driving slow so we don't get separated, asshole."
"There's barely anyone on the road tonight to separate us, but it's fine, Steve. I value your safety. Drive at your comfortable geriatric pace."
When they pull up to a red light, Eddie instructs Steve to roll down his window so they can stick their hands out and play Rock Paper Scissors. Steve is so distracted watching Eddie's hand through his side mirror that he misses when the light turns.
"It's green, honey," Eddie alerts him softly through the phone, and Steve apologizes.
He's smiling real big the whole way there and when Steve eventually gets out of the car, Eddie comes up and grabs him from behind.
Eddie plants a few eager kisses on the side of Steve's neck. "You're fun, Steve."
"I'll show you real fun some other time." He jokes and pulls Eddie towards his place.
As soon as Steve opens the door to his apartment, he feels self-conscious about how dull it looks inside. Eddie looks around quietly. His eye catches on a picture of Steve and Robin.
"That's my best friend, Robin." Steve clarifies, just in case Eddie reads it wrong like dates have in the past.
Eddie smiles and pulls Steve back against his chest. "She looks nice."
"Looks can be deceiving." Steve laments which has Eddie chuckling into his shoulder. Eddie rubs at Steve's tummy.
What Steve really wants, what he's been desperate for, for months and months is human touch. He just wants to cuddle so badly. And Eddie doesn't seem the type to cuddle, but looks can be deceiving, so Steve's gonna ask anyway.
"Wanna cuddle and watch trash reality TV?" Steve's shoulders rise to his ears, it's a defensive gesture and he's expecting to be rejected. Eddie looks slightly amused by his offer, but he nods.
***
"So you liked him alright?" Wayne asks smugly patting the counter. Steve nervously watches the back of the store where Amber is reorganizing. Steve shouldn't be having a conversation like this at work while she's around.
"Yes, Wayne." Steve rolls his eyes. "Your nephew is lovely."
"I told him he should come here with me next time. Maybe we'll both visit ya." Wayne looks happy. The corners of his default frown have been pulled upwards by the return of his nephew. He's a good man. Steve thinks if his kid was only home a few weeks he'd want to hoard all of his attention, surely not set him up on dates.
And that's the thing about Wayne, it seems like he puts the people he cares about first. Steve wonders if Wayne is all that lonely when Eddie's gone, or if he just comes into the store so often because he knows Steve is.
"I'd love that." Steve hopes things work out with the Munsons.
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vivwritesfics · 9 days
Text
Gaming Noises
Max is loud af when he games. There comes a point where his girlfriend cant' sleep without his noise.
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Before meeting Max, she hadn't been able to sleep without complete silence. She needed the perfect conditions: Silence in her bedroom, the bed to be the right temperature and for the blanket to not be folded up inside of itself.
Pretty small asks, if you ask me.
The first night she stayed at Max Verstappens house, she hadn't expected things to be any different to this. And, for that first night, they weren't any different.
No, Max waited until they were a few months into the relationship, until her staying at his happened more often than not, until he showed his true colours.
After they shared dinner, Max got up to put everything on the counter. "Schat, I'm gonna hop on the sim for a bit," he said as he leaned down to kiss her.
"Okay, Maxie," she whispered, closing her eyes as he kissed her head. "I'm gonna go read something before I sleep."
While she was reading, she had her earphones in, music blasting as her eyes moved across the pages. She didn't know just how loud Max was being as he gamed with Team Redline.
It was only once she took her shut her book, took her earphones out and snuggled down under the covers did she hear it.
Max. He might have been in another room, but his voice was so loud. A frown crossed her face, but she still shut her eyes and tried to sleep.
It wasn't happening. She couldn't keep her eyes shut as Max's voice rang out, loud and clear. She grabbed a pillow and placed it over her head, but that did little to drown out the noise.
Wrapping the blanket around her body, she walked out of the bedroom. "Maxy," she groaned as she walked towards him. Max moved his head towards her, but he didn't look away from his screens. Not even when she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. "You're so loud."
She was at such a state of tiredness that she didn't care that he was streaming, that the world could see her in this state.
Max leaned towards her. "I'm sorry, Schat," he whispered. "I'll try to be quieter."
Spoiler alert, Max wasn't quieter. She didn't get to sleep that night until he crawled into bed beside her. But she didn't mind when he wrapped his arms around her and held her close, kissing her head.
This continued on for the next four times she was sleeping at his. Every morning she woke up incredibly exhausted. Suddenly it made sense how Max drank so much Red Bull.
It was getting annoying, but she'd never be annoyed at him. He didn't know how loud he was being. Plus she just loved him too much.
She didn't know when she got used to Max's gaming noises. One day, while he was being loud, she fell asleep. She actually fell asleep while Max was shouting, laughing, and raging on the sim.
Max couldn't help but smile when he slipped into the bed beside her and held her close.
She stayed at his for three more nights in a row. For those nights, she fell asleep with no issue, snuggled between his sheets.
But then Max went to a race. She headed back to her own apartment to watch his race from the comfort of her sofa while getting on with work.
She'd spent so much time with Max recently that it was hard to be without him. Her apartment was too quiet, too cold, too lonely. She hated it.
But she stayed up and watched his race with a glass of wine with hand. The great thing about being with Max Verstappen is that you never have to worry about him. He was so far ahead of the rest of the grid that he was never really in any danger of crashing. She'd watch him win for the rest of her life she could.
She tried to go to sleep after the race. Got changed into her pyjamas, got under the covers and tried to get to sleep. It didn't happen. She tried to softly play whale noises. It didn't help.
Again and again she tried to get some sleep. But, no matter what she tried, it didn't happen.
Groaning, she unlocked her phone and called her boyfriend.
It was a minute before Max picked up. As soon as he did, she could already tell he was on his laptop. "Hey, Schat," he said, his voice raised slightly.
"Maxy," she groaned, clearly incredibly tired. "Somehow I'm used to how fucking loud you are when you game," she said. "Co you think you can keep me on the phone until you go to sleep?" She asked.
"Of course, my love," Max said.
He did just as she asked. Max continued to game, continued laughing, shouting and raging (but not seriously) as he played. In no time at all she was sleeping.
Max kept her on the phone beyond that. He kept gaming, kept the phone call going until he was ready to go to bed.
As soon as he logged off of the stream, Max picked up the phone and walked over to the bed. "You there, Schat?" He asked as he sat on the bed.
He got no answer.
"Goodnight, Mijn liefje. I'll be home tomorrow," he said and ended the call.
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e-m-ma-lmfao · 6 months
Note
can I request some cute fluff with Astarion - I think something cute would be tav’s never worn a dress and they put one on and Astarion is just mindblow by how good they look? 🥺
maybe he can do some chivalrous acts as well~
She Looks Breathtaking
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pairing : astarion x (fem) reader
summary : astarion has never seen you in a dress, you haven’t been in one since you were taken from baldur's gate. you both find it hard to hide your excitement.
warnings : none :)
authors note: I hope you like this anon! (first, i finally played baldur's gate. second, i'm going to try and pump out the requests that I haven't gotten to.)
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“Oh! Look how pretty this is!” 
You turn your head to look towards Karlach’s booming voice, much too loud for the small space you were in. She held up a dress, something you hadn’t thought about wearing in months. You hadn’t had any important events to attend.
Walking over to her side, you take the fabric between your fingers. “It’s beautiful..”
“You should get it. I think you’d look great, and I bet Astarion would like it too.” She nudged at your side, teasing. Your face flushed, and you ran your fingers along the hem of the dress, avoiding Karlachs gaze. She likes to poke fun at the obvious crush you had developed on Astarion, and everytime she did you regretted telling her more and more. 
Eventually, you find a small paper attached to the fabric showing the price of the dress, eyes widening at the disgustingly low price. 
“When would I even get a chance to wear it? It would go to waste, just weigh my bag down.” Karlach huffs, taking the price tag and reading it for herself.
“Are you kidding me? Even if you don’t wear it, you’d be a fool to ignore this price. Maybe you will attend some noble party when we get to Baldur's Gate!” She was way too excited but her energy almost made you agree with her, the dress was so cheap even if it went unworn for a long time. And you hadn’t worn one in..you couldn’t even remember.
You thought about it for a moment before moving for your coin pouch, pouring the amount into your hand and handing the coins to the trader. They slip out of your hand much faster than you'd care to admit, hiding your excitement from Karlach proving to be a challenge. “Don’t say a word to anyone, Karlach, I mean it.”
“Fine. But I better get to see you in it, at least try it on for me when we get back to camp!” You shake your head, amused by Karlachs childish antics, but you yourself can’t help but feel a little bit excited by the idea of dressing up. 
When you returned to camp that night you had forgotten about the dress in your bag, slipping your mind amidst the constant thought of being attacked or having to talk your way out of a hostile situation. 
So when Karlach came bouncing over to your side, your tent tucked away in a corner secluded from most of your party to keep your privacy, you could only give her a confused look. She seemed so excited and you had no idea why, and she was beginning to return the confusion.
“You gonna put on the dress or just make me stand here?” Oh! You let your bag fall to the ground, crouching down to rummage through its contents, searching for the dress. 
When you found it you laid it over your bag, standing back up to remove the leather from your body. You could hear Karlachs giggles as you shimmied out of your much too tight leather pants, only to have to pull the dress over your body right after.
Your hair was up, but you untied it and allowed your hair to fall over your shoulders. When you turned back to her, she stared at you with awe. “Woah..”
“What?” 
“You look..nice.” You giggled, which made her laugh along with you, both of you unaware of the approaching footsteps. His eyes trace along your figure, and he allows himself a moment of greediness to take in the full effect you have. You seem so happy, a smile appearing on his cheeks as he watches you smile gleefully and so..so..carefree. You're finally allowing yourself to have fun, and not worrying about protecting everyone else around you. And Gods.. you’re breathtaking. 
He would never admit to a living soul, or a non-living one for that matter, but he had been infatuated with you since the moment you asked him to join your party. You made him weak, and with his newfound freedom he wasn’t sure what the correct way to deal with it was. Obviously he could use his charm to lure you into his bedroll, but he wanted more, he wanted to be the reason you felt giddy enough to show your teeth with a smile. He wanted to be the reason you laughed, and fooled around, the reason you felt safe enough to have fun. 
He takes a deep breath in, to regain his confidence and charm, and he proceeds towards the two of you.  
Until his voice filled your ears and caused your eyes to shoot in his direction, “Well well..don’t you look nice.” 
“Astarion!” He approached the two of you slowly, staring at you and paying no mind to Karlach’s presence. 
“I’m gonna leave you two alone..” Karlach let out an awkward chuckle, making eye contact with you with wiggly eyebrows before sneaking away.
You look back towards Astarion, who is unable to make eye contact with you as his eyes roam along your body, preoccupied. You're certain he doesn't even realise Karlach has left from beside the two of you.
“Where did you get this pretty thing?” He looks back up to meet your eyes, smirk big enough to show his fangs which sends a nervous shiver through your body. A tingle in your neck reminds you of the favour you allowed him. Your arms cross against your chest, suddenly more nervous in his presence than ever before. 
“Just something I picked up from a merchant..” 
“In all the time I’ve traveled by your side , I’ve never seen you look so.. elegant.” 
“Wow thanks..” You roll your eyes with a snort, crossing your arms tighter across your chest.
“Now c’mon darling..you know I mean you no disrespect. Only pointing out the obvious. May I?” At first you're unsure what he’s even asking permission for, but when you see his hands reaching out to touch you, you give him a nod. 
He doesn’t hesitate, hands finding your hips. “See…usually you’re wearing that menacing leather, always so serious.” Your face scrunches up at his words, you’ve never thought your armour to be very menacing nor did you believe you were ‘always serious’. Only when the situation called for it. 
The heat of his skin can be felt even through the fabric. His thin fingers squeeze into the plush of your hips, then run along your waist, feeling the fabric between his fingers. “But right now, in this dress, with your hair undone,” He brings his hand up to run his fingers through your hairs, “You look so free. You’re beautiful darling..so beautiful.” 
You feel your face relax, and it only softens more when Astarions eyes meet yours once more and his pupils are blown . The softest smile blossoms on his face, which turns out to be contagious cause not soon after a cheek burning smile is on your face. Face hot as you look into his eyes, his hands still on your waist, thumbs massaging your skin through your dress. 
“I should take it off, I don’t want to get it dirty.” 
“Could you humor me?”
“Humor you? How so, Astarion?” 
“Keep it on, just for an hour. It’s been a long time since I spent an evening with a woman as beautiful as you..” 
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ddejavvu · 6 months
Note
can i request spencer reid w bau!reader and their married but reader forgets to put her wedding ring back on and derek’s asking spencer about what happened/if theyre having marital problems and spencer starts panciking but she just forgot about it in her pocket😭
Derek's brow is knitted in real, authentic concern when he corners Spencer in the BAU's kitchenette, and it turns Spencer's stomach. Usually, Derek has a teasing glimmer in his eyes, but it's scarily absent today, and he braces a large hand on Spencer's lanky bicep.
"Pretty boy," Derek starts, and his tone is soft, soothing, kind, "Anything you wanna talk about? I'm here if you need me, y'know."
Spencer tries feigning calm, which is terribly hard to do as someone who's fraught with nerves constantly, but he keeps an even tone when he speaks.
"I don't think so. Should I want to talk about something?"
Derek smiles sympathetically, almost a grimace, and Spencer feels a flash of fear run through him. Has Derek heard something about his mom?
"I don't think anyone else has noticed yet," Derek assures Spencer, "But I saw Y/N's not wearing her ring."
It's not what he'd been expecting, dreading, but it's not pleasant either. Spencer's eyes dart hurriedly to your hunched form, shoulders bent and crowding your desk as you devote yourself entirely to your paperwork. Sure enough, your wedding ring is absent from your finger, leaving an uncomfortably blank space on your skin, and Spencer's brows knit together.
"I didn't know," Spencer admits, keeping his voice to a low murmur, "I- But- we aren't having any problems. I don't think."
Derek shoots that awful pitying grimace his way again, and Spencer shakes his head, his stringy hair flying.
"No, no- we're not- we're not having problems," He asserts, but he's not sure if he's trying to convince himself or Derek more, "I mean, we bickered about coffee this morning, but not- not marriage problems bad. She just forgot it."
Spencer knows what expression will be on Derek's face if he looks, so he doesn't. He busies himself with stirring the rest of the sugar into his coffee, excusing himself before Derek can press the issue even further.
On his way out of the kitchenette he snags a donut from an open box on the counter, slipping a napkin beneath it and trying not to rush to your desk. He doesn't want to seem obvious, but he's a flaming bundle of nerves.
"Angel," He gets right to the point, placing the donut beside your hand on the desk and leaning over the back of your chair. He nestles his cheek to yours, pressing his lips against the curve of your jaw and blocking your conversation from view of the bullpen with the way he shrouds you from behind.
"Spence," You begin, alarmed at the sudden ambush of sugar, both literally and figuratively, "What-?"
"Are you mad at me?" He asks, sounding rather like a child worrying to their parents. You're only more confused after his question, and you tentatively shake your head.
"No? Should I be?"
"I don't think so," Spencer hums, "But you're not wearing your ring."
You blink, glancing at your bare ring finger.
"Oh!" You gush, your shoulders pressing back against his own as you maneuver your hand into your pocket. It's difficult sitting down, but you retrieve the ring and jam it back onto your finger, "I took it off earlier because I was taking the trash out. I didn't want it to get all goopy, and I guess I just forgot it was in there." You let your explanation hang in the air for a moment, but your eyes flash with sympathy, remembering Spencer's initial question, "Oh, Spence, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to freak you out."
"It's okay," He breathes out a shaky sigh of relief, reluctant to straighten up from where he's hugging you from behind, "You didn't even freak me out. Morgan did."
You laugh, and the sound soothes those frayed nerves in his chest, the ones that had lit with sparks of panic at Morgan's pity, "Well, don't listen to Morgan from now on. However," You reach for the donut, tearing it in half and holding one end out to Spencer while you catch the other between your teeth, "If it means I get donuts in apology, maybe I'll forget my wedding ring in my pocket more often."
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cxrsedwxrlds · 28 days
Text
𝘐𝘯𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘦? 𝘔𝘦?
18+, MDNI
i was craving some human! alastor x murderer wife! smut, and this is what happened. i hope you guys enjoy~
warnings: violence, blood, smut, breeding (kinda), murder, dark themes
word ct: 2,414
•°•♡•°•
  "I'm worried for you, you know." You looked up from your cup of tea to the woman speaking. "Whatever for?" You half-laughed, sitting the porcelain down. "Well- if I'm honest, it seems as though your husband is quite.. eccentric."
The woman, Valerie, was an acquaintance from a few years prior that you'd drifted from; someone you'd never particularly liked, however it was difficult to say no when she'd showed up at your door, requesting to reconnect over a spot of tea.
                  "I beg your pardon? Please, elaborate." Your smile was now strained, and you crossed one of your legs over the other. You'd told her just a bit about your life; your darling husband, Alastor, who spent most of his time broadcasting on the radio, and how you were a happy housewife with plenty of chores- but that you didn't mind the busying. You had also made mention that you wanted children, but hadn't really tried yet.
                  "Well, I- I'm going to be honest. I tune into the radio every evening." Valerie's face had become somewhat stressed. "I listen to your husband quite often; often enough to know that, based on how late you said he returns home, he stays after for at least a few hours.." You were baffled. "What in the world are you insinuating, Valerie?" She sighed, "Look.." Valerie stretched her arm across the table and placed an unwanted hand on your forearm. "I'm sure you've heard of the recent murders." 
                   You pulled your arm away and stood, nearly knocking your cup over. You were getting angry. Valerie withdrew, but her face hardened. "Have you already thought of the possibility that your husband is the killer?" You scoffed. "Excuse me? What in the world makes you think that?" Your face was twisted in disbelieving anger. Valerie stood. "(Y/n), if Alastor is  the killer, nobody would think the person spreading the news was responsible!" 
                You twitched. "I don't know wh-" The ringing of a timer cut you off, and you regained your composure. You wiped the front of your dress before clearing your throat. "That would be the cake, I'll be back in a moment. Don't go anywhere, I'd like to finish this conversation." You turned and left the parlor room, heading towards the kitchen.
                    Despite your now calm expression, your hands were shaking with rage and your ears were ringing. You thought silently to yourself as you slipped on your oven mitts and removed the cake from the oven. The scent was lovely, which brought a small smile to your face. Alastor would love it when he returned home that evening. You sat the cake on the counter atop a folded kitchen towel, and then removed the oven mitts. Wiping your hands, you turned and returned to the parlor room. 
                    "(Y/n), dear. I hope you know I'd only say something if I was absolutely sure." Valerie's eyes seemed apologetic, and you smiled softly. "I apologize for getting so worked up. It's quite the thing to imagine, your lover being a murderer. Have- have you mentioned anything about this to anyone else?" Your eyes met Valerie's, a worried smile painting your face. "Honestly, no. My husband thinks I'm at the salon, actually- he would call me crazy for trying to figure something like this out." You let the smile fall away, and you sighed. "I'd be lying if I said the possibility hasn't crossed my mind. I-I've seen him come home with a crazed look in his eyes and I- I just.." You buried your face in your hands. "I just love him so much, I never thought that he was capable of.."
                  Your voice broke at the end of your sentence, and you hear Valerie gasp softly as she made her way to you. She wrapped her arms around you, and you returned the gesture. "I feel so deeply for you, but we have to bring this to the authorities." You sniffled into her neck as your hand reached towards the table next to you. She began to pull away. "Perhaps I'm overstepping, but maybe it's a good thing you don't have children. You really could be next." 
                Your fingers wrapped around the telephone on the table and you quickly brought your arm back, slamming it down onto the side of her head. It hit her with a sharp crack and she screamed, stumbling a bit as she brought a hand up and pressed it over the wound. You could see blood seeping between her fingers as you yanked, pulling the telephone cord out of the wall. "You-you're INSANE!" Valerie blabbered, stuttering on her words. "Insane? Me?" Valerie tried to turn and run, but you wrenched your arm back and hit her in the head again, harder this time. She stumbled more and fell, the back of her head smacking the edge of the coffee table.  
               Thick red blood seeped out of Valerie's head and onto the hardwood floor as she convulsed a bit. She let out a gargling whine, and you pulled her under you by her legs, smearing the small pool of blood around her head. You flopped down on her chest, forcing the oxygen from her body and her chest lifted off the floor as she tried to draw in a breath. "This really is unfortunate- I've already cleaned the house once today." 
              You brought the telephone down on her face, splattering blood all over your face and the front of your body. Her fingers and legs twitched as her face was quickly coated in her flowing blood, and you brought your arms back up again. Alastor's face flashed in your mind as you slammed it back down. 
              Her skull caved, crushing her face under the base of the telephone. Blood was everywhere now; coating your dress, hands, and telephone. More was splashed up onto the ceiling as you pulled the telephone out of her unrecognizable face and began to repeatedly bring it down onto her. She was, without a doubt, dead; but adrenaline shot through your body as you watched her blood pool around her.
            You were in the middle of swinging when the front door opened. "Darling, I'm home! I had a short-" Your husbands eyes locked onto yours as the telephone connected with the pile of bloody flesh and bone, and he froze. "-day." Your chest was heaving and your eyes were wild. "Hi, honey!" You grinned at him as he entered the house and closed the door behind him, locking it. If there was one thing he enjoyed more than seeing you naked, it was seeing you covered in someone else's blood.
              He walked over to you, removing his vest as you looked down, huffing and tossing the telephone to the side. More blood splatters. "I see you've had an eventful day. Who's this?" He leaned over, scooping you up into his arms. "Do you remember Valerie? She was at our wedding." You wrapped your bloody arms around your husband, who brought his face to yours in a quick, loving kiss. "Mm, I believe so. That was the one who tried to get into it with your sister, correct?" You nodded as he looked down at the body. 
             "What was she doing here?" He asked, rubbing your hip with his thumb. "She said she wanted to reconnect, so I invited her in for some tea. She got me talking and then, unbelievably, she accused you of being the NOLA murderer. Said that I'd be next. How ridiculous." You teased, using his collar to bring yourself closer to him. You peppered kisses on the side of his neck. "Absolutely preposterous." Alastor tilted his head, giving you better access to his neck as he stepped over the body and walked towards the hallway. 
              You began nipping at his flesh, teething softly before giving a decent bite. His grip on you tightened as he made it to your shared bedroom. He walked in and tossed you down on the bed. Alastor kicked his shoes off and crawled onto the bed, caging you under him. You bit your lip as you grabbed the collar of his button up and pulled him into a hungry kiss. 
               His lips danced with yours as his hands trailed down your body to the bottom of your dress. He tugged up on it and you lifted your back off of the bed, helping him remove it. The both of you broke the kiss to pull the dress off of your head. He leaned back and observed you, admiring. 
                The blood splattered on your collarbones, neck, and face had him darkly aroused; his cock had been prodding against his pants since he walked in on you atop the bloodied body. He licked his lips as he removed your bra and began to place feathery kisses on your navel. You shuddered and grabbed Alastor by the shoulders, flipping him so that he was under you. Alastor possibly would have resisted, had he been expecting it. His glasses were half-way off of his face as he looked up at you, some strands of brown hair covering parts of his face.
                You leaned down, pressing your lips against his as you began to unbutton his shirt. His hands travelled up to his face as he removed his glasses and tossed them up onto the pillows. His hands quickly moved to your waist and hip, his fingers gripping your flesh and as you finished the last button, you pulled his shirt partially open and slowly trailed your hand from his chest, down to his stomach. He groaned into the kiss as your palm rubbed against his clothed cock. 
                 You pulled away from the kiss and he opened his eyes, thankful that he could see your gorgeous, bloodstained face. Your eyes were dark, something he'd seen in himself many times, as your fingers skillfully undid his belt. His hand cupped your ass before he gave a gentle squeezed, followed by a sharp slap. You bit your lip as you brought your hips down. The tip of his cock rubbed against your smooth, clothed cunt and your rested a hand on his chest for leverage as you pulled your underwear to the side. 
                 His hand instantly found your heat, which caught you by surprise. Your eyes closed and your jaw fell slack as his fingers slipped between your folds, coating you in your own arousal. As he pulled his fingers away, you brought his cock into your hand and stroked it a few times before lining him up to your entrance. You sunk down, moaning as he filled you so perfectly; just like always. 
                 His eyes fell closed as he let out a deep, shaky breath. You sunk all the way down, gasping desperately at how deeply he filled you. You wasted no time in dragging your hips up and down, slowly at first. His hands dug into your hips as he began to fuck up into you, matching your pace. Your hips began to connect as you started bouncing harder. You began to whine, throwing your head back as you sat up more. The straighter your back was, the deeper that he hit as you brought your hips down onto his. "Fucking hell, (Y/n).." Alastor's voice was almost shaking, and you clenched around him at his words.
              "Nng- Yes, my love?" You practically moaned the word 'love', and Alastor lifted you off of him. "Wha-" You were cut off as Alastor, in one motion, moved out from under you, flipping over and shoving your chest against the mattress. You dug your nails into the covers as you felt him pull your ass into the air by your hips. You bit down onto your lip, but it was short lived as Alastor slammed his cock into you. You turned your head to the side, a moan tearing itself from you. 
                Alastor's pace was almost ungodly. You had to outstretch a hand, placing it on the headboard to prevent yourself from inching up the bed. You felt Alastor's cock smashing against your cervix, pounding into you so roughly you thought you might die from absolute pleasure. "Alastor-" You dragged his name out into a whining moan; you could feel the orgasm building up inside of you as you clenched around him. Your panties were now soaked in your fluids.
               "Hmm?" Alastor's eyes were closed; the heat of your soft, wet cunt around his cock was enough to make him crumble, he knew it'd be over if he looked down at you, face buried into the mattress, holding yourself stable while hardly keeping your composure as he fucked into you. He could feel your oncoming orgasm with the way your cunt pulsated around him and your legs shook.
                He snaked his hand around your leg and pressed his index finger against your clit. He barely had to move his finger at all.
               "Oh, fuck!" You clawed at the headboard, scratching into the wood as you screamed Alastor's name in a moan. His pace quickened, and he leaned down to your ear. "Do you want me to fill you with my seed, darling?" He grunted as you let out a series of small, whining moans as he continued fucking into your sensitive pussy. "I'll need an answer, Ma chère." He whispered into your ear, and you whimpered. "Fuck- yes, please-" Your cunt was tightening around him again as you somewhat recovered from your high. 
              He put a hand on the back of your head, tangling his fingers in your hair as he pulled you up. You arched your back, gasping at the new sensation. The muscles in your stomach stretched as he fucked up into you. "Ple-please- Alastor-" 
              You writhed, trying to shove your face into the bed as you screamed out another moan. Alastor had shoved himself as deep inside of you as possible, letting out a deep, shaky moan. He leaned over, pressing his face against your back as his cock twitched and jerked, filling you with his thick, hot cum. You whimpered, your chest heaving as you panted. Alastor allowed himself to finish breeding pumping his cum into you before pulling out. He fixed his pants as you relaxed against the bed, still panting. You rolled over just as he leaned over and placed a kiss on your forehead. 
             He picked up his glasses, returning them to his now sweat-soaked face. "I'm going to run us a bath, I'll be back in a moment." You hummed in response and nuzzled into the bed. 
             You'd deal with the mess in the parlor later. 
•°•♡•°•
i was feeling a bit morbid, my bad y'all
taglist: @certainlygay, @writer-girl99, @mcntsee, @moonmark98, @olive-frog, @goat-cannibal, @purplerose291, @angelofthorr, @peachedtvs, @hazelfoureyes
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superblysubpar · 15 days
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Sincerely, Yours:
bestfriend!steve harrington x fem!reader
summary: a movie night, a confession, an offer, your Calvin's bunched up on the floor of your best friend's BMW...and other places | 18+ Only, NSFW | main menu
the song: Don't You (Forget About Me) by Simple Minds - all of steve's music
6.6k words
warnings: "inexperienced" reader - in the form of never really making out/receiving none/not great foreplay - masturbating for comfort/ease before sex, SMUT (public - in the back of Steve's car - "caught" by Hopper when you're done, oral, fingering, steve cums in his levi's cause I'm a sucker for doing this to him, what can I say?)
A/N: Once upon a time, I asked for requests, and I failed to fulfill many of them (you may have heard this story before), but this one sat in the drafts for many many months, and then I really chickened out posting it for a long time. Everyone say thanks to @palmtreesx3 - I owe her and the request for the prompt "we're not really just best friends, are we?"(which isn't even used in this, but you get the picture) and The Breakfast Club for this fic 💛
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He didn’t hear it at first, over the last remaining popping kernels. 
“What?” He called around a mouthful of the snack he was already dipping into before it was finished. 
In the other room, your attention was strictly on Judd Nelson, but you tried again, with no real power or meaning behind the words. 
“Want me to pause it?”
“No,” he shook his head and rolled his eyes to no one but himself in the kitchen, “Don’t think you need to pause the movie I’ve seen three times…this week.”
“I’d love one, thanks!”
Steve snorted at your response that made no sense, it becoming apparent you weren’t listening to him at all.  He should have known this was his fate after the way you acted when it was showing at The Hawk. You saw it with him, then Robin, then Nancy, and Steve put his foot down when you tried to drag him down there for a fourth time.
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Now here he was, dumping the popcorn into a large bowl and watching it again. He didn’t even know what number of views he was on with you, which had him worried about your sanity, ‘cause you had to be watching it without him too. 
Steve snagged two cans of Coke out of the fridge, assuming that’s what you’d love one of, and kicked the door closed with his heel. 
He cradled the popcorn bowl against his side and held each of the cans with one hand and spread fingers, socked feet slipping on the hardwoods when he rounded the corner and saw you again. 
Despite becoming incredibly bored by the movie, he did love watching you watch it, because somehow, it’s as if you’re watching it for the first time every time. 
Your white tube socks were stark against the dark wood of the coffee table, bunching around your ankles that led him to the exposed skin of your calves. Which led to the way your blue skirt fanned over your thighs all nice, then the Queen shirt he got you for your birthday tucked into it, your thumb between your teeth with your eyebrows bunched together. 
His best friend was really fucking pretty. 
He almost said it out loud, which had him flopping onto the couch a little quickly, a little too heavy with his fall. Careless in his aim of the cushion and causing popcorn to spill from the bowl into your lap as his shoulder jostled yours. 
Before he could even say sorry, you were grabbing the popcorn from your lap like it was the bowl, blissfully unaware it wasn’t, all the while making heart eyes at dreamy Bender.
“Thanks,” your appreciation came out heavy around the buttery and salty handful of the snack, the Coke you’d love sitting on the coffee table, already forgotten.
Steve hummed, his amused lips twitched in a losing fight against a smile at your captivated stare fixated on the screen. He suppressed an eye roll at the scene about to happen, as he swiped condensation off the cool metal of the can with his thumb. 
He popped the drink open with a loud hiss, slurping his first sip - a habit you’d normally swat at his chest for - but you were too busy focusing on the words about to leave Judd’s mouth. 
“Have you ever kissed a boy on the mouth?”
They sort of just tumbled out of Steve too, while his eyes glanced over the popcorn bowl, searching for a perfectly buttery piece. Which is why he didn’t see that he, your best friend, quoting the scene that has dialogue that got you all hot and bothered more than others, had your entire body freezing. 
Steve tossed the acquired piece into the air, catching it in his mouth before he turned to face your profile. He found you with widened eyes, chest rising and falling a little too quickly, and he grinned. 
“Have you ever been felt up…over the bra…under the blouse…your shoes off, hoping to god your parents don’t walk in?”
He’s simply delighted when he quotes the scene again and your body shifts, toes curling as you arched your neck away from. You kept your eyes on the screen, not giving him the satisfaction of eye contact because of what he was slowly, finally, realizing.
You were totally turned on and he couldn’t wait to tease you about it forever.
Steve leaned in closer, whispering along with the movie, “Over the panties…no bra…blouse unbuttoned…Calvin’s in a ball on the front seat past eleven on a school night?”
He’s gearing up, about to tease you, make some dumb boy comment about being hot for the school freak, when your quiet, barely a breath response had him pausing. 
“No.”
Did you just say that out loud?!
Your head turned to find Steve blinking at you, creases in his forehead deepening beneath the stray locks of hair that fell forward. 
Looks like you did.
“Ste-”
“What? What do you mean no?”
Your eyes closed when you both spoke at the same time, avoiding his curious stare. Hands roamed to your cheeks to hide your face as your head fell towards your knees. 
As you shook your head no, your response gets muffled into your skirt. “I meant no.”
Steve’s hand nudged at your shoulder, prodding for clarity and for you to sit up. He failed to sound casual when his question came out incredulously.
“No, you’ve never kissed a guy?”
Your hands still covered your face as you fell back against the couch with a groan, “No, I..I have. I just…”
Steve pulled at your hands, his heart racing like it was overtime. All these years, he thought you’d been with all these other guys, his quiet jealousy seething under the surface of his tinged green from envy skin. 
A breath, well, more of a huff really, slipped past your lips as your gaze dropped to the hands holding yours in your lap. “I’ve never really made out with anyone? Just like…a quick kiss or two. I don’t even know, can you even count it as kissing? Over before it starts kind of thing…”
The ramble trailed off, the room silent save for the movie still playing and the giant, loud, big, fat, zero response from Steve. You counted the threads in the carpet, the pieces of popcorn in the bowl as your skin grew hotter and hotter from the reveal he’s left just hanging there until he  finally sputtered out a sorry excuse for one.
“Are you shitting me? We’re like…old.”
It doesn’t come out how he meant it to at all, he’s just shocked. He’s wincing almost immediately as the words reach his ears and brain, he knows how it sounded. He wishes he could take it back when your head whips up, hurt eyes meeting his as you ripped your hands away from him. 
“Yeah, Steve,” you scoffed, jaw pulsing as your voice dripped with sarcasm that tried to cover  the embarrassment, “I’m shitting you. Thought it’d be real funny to trick you into thinking your best friend is a loser who’s barely been kissed even though she’s so old.”
Pieces of popcorn fell from your lap as you stood, not letting yourself wonder where they came from as you stomped around the coffee table and towards his entryway. 
“No, honey, wait-” he stumbled after you, spilling Coke down the front of his shirt as he did, “Shit.”
He patted at his chest like it’d do anything, shirt damp and sticking to his skin as he rounded the corner and found you lacing up your converse and shaking your head. 
“It’s fine, Steve. I’m fine. I just don’t feel like talking about it. I’m gonna go home. Don’t worry about it. Girl stuff.”
“No, please, I didn’t mean-”
His words stopped just as abruptly as your body, when the front door swung open to reveal an out of nowhere downpour. 
Your head fell as you started to ask, and he was already one step ahead of you.
“Can you please-”
“I’ll grab my keys.”
He was tripping up his stairs by the time he finished saying it. When he returned, it was in a clean shirt, jumping from the second to last step as he swirled the keys around his pointer finger. 
The light blue fabric of his new shirt pulled at his shoulders that hunched when your glare remained unwavering despite the apologetic puppy dog eyes he had going for him. 
You understood Steve didn’t mean for the comment to start the hole he was digging, and you knew you weren’t being fair for being so upset. It’s not like it was his fault, it was just your own insecurities manifesting in an anger towards him. 
The nagging feeling of being some sort of freak who’d never made out while even the little twerps who clung to Steve were, while your best friend was Steve Harrington, former king of Hawkins High only grew stronger. The thought of Steve thinking you were some sort of weirdo for being old and never making out had something in your gut churning, had a familiar sting behind your eyes forming that you tried your best to ignore. 
When Steve opened his mouth, about to try to make it all better again, you simply turned on your heel and stalked out into the rain. He pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes at the way you stomped through it, pretending to not be drowned. 
He quickly rushed behind you and got to the door first and swung it open, to which you rolled your eyes at, but slid in and got comfortable while he closed it for you nonetheless. 
Unsure why he went and changed as he raced around the hood and shot into the driver’s seat, totally soaked through to his skin now. He cranked the heat before swiping fingers over his eyes, a large hand ran through his hair and pushed it back only for it to fall into his eyes again. Steve reached over with wet and shaking fingers at the same time you held yours up, both of you pausing and glancing at the other’s hands. 
Steve was about to cup your fingers between his and blow warm breath onto them, just like he always did, but you ripped your hands down to your lap, and curled your body against the door, like you needed to be as far from him as you could be. 
Your damp forehead touched the cool glass of the window as he sighed, “Please don’t-”
“Just take me home, please?”
The tone in which the words were said has something in his chest breaking. Like you were really fucking sad, embarassed, it was a real plea to just take you home and leave you alone. 
So he wasn’t gonna do that, ‘cause he never was a great listener, so why start now?
He pretends though, he backs out of the driveway and heads in the direction of your apartment. He lets the radio fill the space and he turns the heat down when the air inside the car is heavier and warm despite your cold shoulder. The orange glow of the street lights slanted inside the car in a soothing rhythm as his wheels spun over the pavement until he was coming to the last four way stop before your apartment. 
It unfolds just as he had planned, when he’s still stopped at the deserted intersection, as your breath fogged up the glass when you asked, “Harrington, you planning on leaving the intersection anytime soon?”
His bottom lip wobbled as his teeth continued to press into it, thick fingers rubbing at a scruff dotted jaw as he thought out loud in an attempt to sway you. 
“Well, you see, I could go straight and take you home-” he started. 
“Right. Let’s do that.” You waved your hand towards the direction of the apartment that held the ice cream you were desperate to eat and wallow with while watching Pretty In Pink. 
“Or,” Steve interrupted right back, tapping on the steering wheel with his finger as he did, “I could go to the right. Pull into the diner. Buy you a milkshake and say sorry?”
The thing was, he was gonna go to the right regardless of your answer. He knew once you pulled into the parking lot there was no way you’d not at least go in and get fries and a shake, if not a whole burger. You’d done this dance before, him putting his foot in his mouth was not a new occurrence. 
Your lips twitched, but your arms stayed crossed as he hummed and whispered, “Tough choice…tough choice…”
Shoulders fell in defeat, but your mouth stayed downturned in a forced frown as you grumbled, “And fries.”
Steve smiled, turned on his blinker and nodded. He cleared his throat.
“And fries. Definitely.”
“And none of that you order yourself a vanilla shake and I order strawberry and you drink half of mine because it’s better and eat all the fries shit.”
“Of course,” Steve scoffed, “I would never do that.”
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Steve slipped his straw into your shake, pulling the glass across the sticky tabletop as you did the same with his. He tried not to smirk around the straw when you did, dipping a fry in his vanilla he ordered for a reason despite the strawberry being better. 
“Do you think Claire is a prude for never doing anything?”
He shook his head no almost immediately, swiping at stray ice cream from the corner of his mouth with his tongue. 
You fiddled with the straw wrapped between your fingers and narrowed your eyes at him. 
“Would your answer be the same if, say, Eddie was sitting here asking you? Not me, your best friend, who you have sudden pity for?”
He blinked at you and sighed, “I don’t have pity for you.”
“Your mouth and your eyes are telling two different stories Harrington,” you waved a fry at him as you spoke, gesturing to his face with it. 
Your gaze stayed on the fry you were ripping in half, focused on watching it sink into the sweet vanilla as he dared to say, “I just don’t get it.”
“What, that I haven’t done that and I’m so old,” you tried to tease, to move past it. 
But the way you were licking salt off your finger had him wondering if he swiped his own through the salt on the tray and pushed the pad against your lips if they would part like they were now, if he could taste it on your lips if he just leaned forward and-
“No, ‘cause you’re so fucking pretty.” 
He definitely said it out loud that time. 
You blinked at him, cheeks suddenly too warm for the cold and damp Spring that had been surrounding you all day.  
“Ste-”
“And so smart,” he licked his lips, leaning forward, unable to stop now that it was out, “And funny. And…and sweet, you’ve got the biggest heart of anyone I know, I just don’t understand how guys aren’t falling over themselves, unable to do anything but make out with you, or more or-”
“I never said I didn’t do more,” you whispered, ignoring all of his compliments that made your chest feel all tight and sticky and choosing to argue with him instead because that was easier. 
“But you said…if you haven’t made out with anyone…” 
Your body slipped lower against the squeaky seat, embarrassed as you shrugged and Steve felt too hot in the tiny little booth, thinking about all those guys’ hands on you again, and then what you said, what it meant, really clicked. 
“Hold on…how…how’d…you didn’t, build up to it?” He asked softly, eyes bouncing over your face with worry. 
“Steve,” you grabbed for the other shake, and sat up straighter, “We don’t need to talk about this. It’s not import-”
“It’s so important,” he grabbed your hand and squeezed your fingers lightly, “Half the fun is all the build up to it. And,” he swallowed, forehead creasing with deeper worry, “And then it, it doesn’t hurt. ‘Cause tell me if I’m wrong, but if they weren’t making out with you, were they doing anything to make sure you felt good?”
You squirmed in your seat, fingers pushing up against his mindlessly, aimlessly, as you shrugged again. “It’s only hurt a few times. I learned that if I…um, If I got myself ready beforehand, that I was, uh, more comfortable.”
Steve’s fingers let go of yours with the excuse of grabbing a fry, because he was trying not to be a gross guy, but all he could think about was you in your bedroom, with your fingers between your thighs now. Did you play music? What song? Did you have underwear on? What color? With a shirt that your nipples were visibly hard through as you touched yourself and maybe it was his shirt or maybe you said his name or-
“Right,” Steve nodded, “Um, right. And that’s great, lots of people do that for a date, so like if you need or want to beforehand that’s not…that’s great. It just shouldn’t be the only thing, you know? They should be putting in the work, they should be wanting to. And dates! They should watch a movie with you, and dinner and drive around and then kiss so much you feel dizzy and then if you want, more.”
He finished his rambling speech and you smiled softly, unsure of what to say, because you knew he wasn’t wrong, it’s just that they had. 
“They did,” you sighed, “Well, not Paul.”
Steve scowled at the table, “Yeah, well, I’m sure you weren’t missing much. Who wants to yell out Paul?”
“Oh,” you laughed, “And Steve is so much better?”
He looked up at you, your smile sweet and kind and your eyes a little sad, but trying not to be and he wanted to say yes. He wanted to tell you that if it was those lips and that voice saying it, it was better, because how could it not be? Like his name only had the best letters, like it belonged to the best guy in the world, one that belonged to you and no one else. 
But you were swiping at ice cream on your lips and sighing, saying something that made his chest ache instead. 
“They were nice dates. And it’s not like the sex was bad. But,” you looked out the window, eyes tracking the droplets of rain twinged neon from the light hanging above you both, “The kissing till I’m dizzy sounds nice. Is it…is it fun?”
“Yeah,” Steve whispered, admiring the way the red and blue lit up your profile before you turned to face him. 
And then he was saying something before he really thought it through, because god you weren’t just fucking pretty, you were the most beautiful person he’d ever met and no way in hell was he letting anyone treat you the way you’d been ever again. So this was his chance, and he was taking the leap.
“I could…” he blew out a breath and smiled. He sat up straighter, and he searched for some sort of lingering king steve confidence he could latch onto without all the douche as he asked, “I could show you?”
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To both of your surprise, you’d said yes, and he paid and you were in the car, driving, and parked somewhere in what felt like seconds. Now your best friend sat across from you, both of you facing the center console, but not daring to do more. 
The rain beat against the roof of the maroon car, each drop a punctuated tick of a nonexistent clock - a meter for how much time was passing without movement, without words. Just both of your breathing filled the space. First exhaling, then desperately inhaling for more air as your chests rose and fell ragged. And then, like in some unspoken agreement only best friends can have, you both started to lean forward cause you just knew. 
Your heart’s thrum threatened to drown out the rain, building and building, screaming to break out of your chest, pounding in your ears while your cheeks grew warm and your stomach dipped as Steve’s tongue slipped out quickly and wetted his lips. 
But then he leaned and his eyes started to close and you giggled, fingers slipping over your lips as his eyelids shot open. 
“Sorry,” you gasped and shook your head and your hands out as you tried to be serious, “Your ‘I’m about to kiss you’ face is real cute, Harrington.”
Tried being the definitive word. 
“Cute?” He groaned, smiling, “Not sexy?”
You leaned in, faster this time, a smile matching his as you shrugged, “It’s nice. Never thought I’d be on the opposite side of it, is all.”
It’s easy to tilt your head and welcome the hand that reached up to cradle your jaw as he softly promised, “Your ‘I’m about to be kissed face’ is really cute too.”
The pad of his thumb brushed over the apple of your cheek in the tenderest touch you’d ever felt, before his fingers curled under your jaw and tilted you gently, slowly, up so his lips were right over yours. 
It felt like he was handling you like the most precious and fragile thing, like a prized possession that he’d only ever hold with care and never let another soul touch. 
His breath fanned over yours, warm and sweet smelling, vanilla and cherry just out of reach for you to taste as you dared to quip back again. “Alright, I’m gonna have to cross reference these lines with other girls you’ve promised to make dizzy, Harrington, cause if that’s the first time you’ve used that, I’m afraid it’s far too smooth…”
Steve’s heart felt like it was trying to claw out of his chest as you laughed, smiling at him when he responded, “And, I think that’s enough out of you.”
Which you couldn’t help but reply back to with, “Yeah? Have some fancy trick to get me to stop talking?”
He laughed, low, muffled and deep in his chest. “A few.”
A sharp inhale slipped past your lips when his nose bumps yours, not realizing how close he’d gotten while you joked back and forth nervously. There wasn’t a protocol on how to let your best show you a proper make out, on how to just dive in and start, you just knew you wanted to. 
Steve’s swallow bobbed his adams apple as the leather beneath you creaked from shifting weight, needing to get closer. And as you did, his eyes found yours, mossy and dark in the low light, the browns and golds washed away in the rain. Their gaze flitted down to your lips, back up to fluttering eyelashes, and then his own eyelids were closing. 
All it took was another breath in, an exhale out, and his lips were on yours. A simple, slow press, holding your top lip between the both of his. Strawberry and vanilla teasing you, and soon he was moving, now bottom lip between his and you got it. Your mouths parted together, lips slotting in a rhythm that came naturally, that clicked. 
Something in your stomach fizzled and crackled like the sparklers you lit every year in his driveway on the fourth as the sigh from his nose hit your cheek. Body warm and sticky in a way that was usually reserved for Summer when his fingers skated over your jaw, up and around your ear, until they were cradling the back of your neck and pulling you closer. His mouth moved with yours in a way that could only be described as frantically graceful - needing more, hurried, hungry, but with the promise and precision of someone who knew what he was doing. It had your stomach dipping, like a freefall, like the greatest and scariest thing you’d ever felt. 
If he’d have opened his eyes, he’d have found you with your hands suspended between your bodies though. Fingers not quite brave enough to reach up and get lost in his hair, but not content to just sit in your lap and do nothing either. 
And if you'd opened your eyes, you’d have found his other hand gripping the center console like he was hanging on for dear life. ‘Cause holy shit was he trying to go slow, but kissing you was like chasing the last few minutes of sunlight in July - sweet and fleeting and magic - something you needed to make last, to soak up every last drop of until you couldn’t any more, not by choice, but because the sun has to set and he has to breathe.
In a shared gasp for air, you parted, but his lips were back on yours immediately, making your stomach swoop even more, like an entire family of butterflies had decided - hey, we live here now and we’re gonna make a ruckus so get used to it.
You didn’t mind. 
Steve’s fingers found yours and without breaking his rhythm, he tugged, guiding them to his shoulders that were practically on your side of the console now, which wasn’t doing something great to his already somersaulting stomach. 
He slowed down as your fingers brushed over and back on the collar of his shirt and his hands cradled both of your cheeks, pulling you off of his lips regretfully. You were both breathing like you’d run a marathon, his forehead pressed to yours as he gasped out, “Dizzy yet?”
“No,” you lied. 
He grinned, tip of his nose tracing the bridge of yours as he admitted, “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to kiss you like that.”
You couldn’t even respond, couldn’t tell him you wanted that too, couldn’t tell him that it was something you only dared let a daydream or two convince you it could happen before you were shutting it down, cause he was still talking. 
“And now that I have,” he swallowed, his thumbs glided down opposite sides of your neck as he shook his head, “I’m never stopping.”
Then he was kissing you again, and if you thought he was frantic before…
You had this feeling that even if those other guys had made out with you, kissing them wasn’t and never would be the same as kissing Steve Harrington. 
Soon one of your feet was on the seat, the other bracing yourself in the footwell. He had a hand on your hip and the other on the back of your neck and yours were finally starting to dare to journey past their spot on his shoulders and then your skirt was caught on the gearshift and he was stopping you again. 
“Honey, what are you doing?”
“So was that ‘never stopping’ just a nice sentiment or are you planning to back it up with action?” You huffed, distracted by pink lips that twisted into a crooked smile as he looked at your pretzeled body. 
Your shoulders fell as you nodded your head towards his side of the car and admitted, “I just want to be closer.”
“Oh, right.” Steve swallowed, and you wondered if it’d be weird if you kissed every freckle and mole you could find on his throat. Something told you he wouldn’t mind when he asked, a little more eager than you’d heard tonight, “Backseat?” 
And you clambered out of the car, the slowing rain soothing to heated and flushed skin under the mussed clothes, and then you were both meeting in the backseat, but the nerves returned. The way you both glanced at the space between you and were immediately and acutely aware of the lack of anything between you except doubt and fear. Was this a mistake? What about your friendship?
Steve looked at the space, at you, and then held up his finger in the symbol for one sec as he said, “Hold on,” and half climbed back into the front seat. His torso draped over the console as he loudly opened the glovebox and rummaged around inside, before he was fiddling with the radio, and falling back into the seat. 
His cheeks pink, but his smile wide as he looked at you again. “Hey! I’m so glad we could do this tonight. You look beautiful. Ready to watch your favorite movie?”
“Wh-what?” You laughed, totally and utterly confused. 
He tugged on your fingers, and pulled you to the middle, until you were slouched next to each other, shoulders touching as he shushed and said, “The Breakfast Club is starting.”
And the music playing over the radio,Simple Minds, a cassette he must have put in, had your chest swelling with something that was sure to burst and explode and kill you, because the boy was actually pretending you were on a couch, on a date, in a living room, watching a movie - it was perfectly Steve and you, and the best first date you’d ever been on. 
His left hand picked up yours, resting it on your thigh and played with your fingers. The pads of his traced up and down and over your hand as he stared at the windshield, his temple resting against yours. The music played, and his fingertips swooped between the curves of each finger aimlessly, the sides of his fingers running down yours and back up making it really hard to concentrate on the non-existent flick. 
When you finally relaxed into his side, when you flipped your hand over so he could draw little loop de loops on your palm, he quietly asked, “Who’s your favorite?”
“Brian,” said without hesitation. 
Steve groaned, in pain, “Ugh, you would like him the best.”
You laughed, turning to look up at him a bit from where your head had fallen to his shoulder, “Don’t knock him Steve,” you spoke softly, fondly, “You’re a lot more of a dork like him than you think.”
Steve made a pft noise, fingers now interlaced with yours as he turned his head, the tip of his nose touching yours as he looked down at you with the sort of look the guys give the girls in the movies, one that should be illegal from the way it had that family of butterflies shouting about their presence again and fluttering around. 
“Hey Steve?” 
“Hmm?” He hummed, eyelashes fluttering as he sighed when your thumb brushed over his knuckles.
“This is a really great…first date?” You asked, hopeful that it wasn’t just an offer, that you weren’t some game, that the guy next to you was just as crazy about you as you were him. 
“Yeah?” He smiled, proud, and then bragged, “Wait till the second one.”
It was your turn to hum, to look into his eyes and get a little lost as his mouth parted and you both scooted closer, waiting, as he squeezed your fingers wrapped around his. 
“You’re making the ‘I’m about to kiss you face’ again, Steve,” you whispered, lips brushing his as you did.
“Right,” he whispered back, bottom lip catching yours as he suggested, “Which means you should probably stop talking again.”
This kiss wasn’t as easy and smooth, made difficult by grins of fools who were totally in love but wouldn’t admit it just yet, but how could you both not be after years together?
But you smoothed it out quickly, and soon he was swiping his tongue over your bottom lip as his hand gripped at your waist a little tightly. He traced over your top lip as your entire body turned towards his, like a plant in search of sunlight, his body on yours fundamental to your survival.
He gasped as you straddled him, your mouth swallowing the sound as his hands roamed up your sides, taking the hem of your shirt with it so his fingers could scrape at the skin just under your ribs before they dared to drift along the band of your bra.  
You let out a sound that he’d never forget as long as he lived when you finally lowered yourself, skirt fanning over your laps so the sinful way he pressed up against your pristine soaked Calvin’s was slightly hidden. The unclip of your bra and the removal and toss over the seat was fluid, and you couldn’t think about it because the way his hand on your chest felt, the thumb over a pebbled nipple was something you’d only let yourself think about in moments of need before a date that wasn’t him. 
Steve was wrong, the build up was more than half the fun.
The way his hands buzzed against your spine like the air after fireworks, the way his tongue brushed yours, the way he couldn’t help but guide your hips to rock against him. Denim hitting cotton in the exact right spot so the nerves underneath it got the friction they were aching for, while your mind ran away from you, thoughts about how this was just getting started. How there was more. 
His lips left yours and his smile pressed to your jaw when the action got a soft whimper to fall from you. He tutted into your neck, lips grazing over an erratic pulse as he whispered, “Can I touch you?”
“Is that,” your breath hitched around the words as his tongue licked a thick stripe over your neck that extended, “Is that a part of making me dizzy or the more, when I’m sufficiently so?”
“You’re not yet?” His teeth scraped at where his tongue had just been. “I like when you say words like sufficiently, ‘s’hot.”
You laughed as his lips kissed the same spot, and then he was sucking, skin beneath his tongue warm and sending a message to your brain that you liked that a lot. 
“Yeah,” you hiccuped, eyelids fluttering in their view of the car’s roof as you arched and his hands gripped your hips, “Yeah, touch me.”
He didn’t have to be told twice, arm around your waist holding you steady while the other traveled under the hem of your skirt. His mouth moved to below your ear and as his fingers glided up your thigh. He sucked and kissed, and sent that message to your brain again, having you say his name and god’s in the same desperate sentence. 
Steve wasn’t gonna last much longer. 
Especially when his fingers met the wet cotton and you moaned, so much filthier than he’d have thought possible. Especially when he circled over your clit through the fabric and you rolled your hips with the movement, far dirtier than he thought you were capable of. 
“Fuck baby, you’re soaked.” He mouthed at the collar of your rucked up shirt, looking down at the way your hips rolled over his but he couldn’t quite see what was underneath. 
You hid in the crook of his neck, hot, and you didn’t know if it was because the windows were fogged and Steve was so fucking good at this or because you were embarassed by how turned on you were from his next words. 
“Please, I gotta,” he slipped a finger under the fabric and you shuddered as it ran down your slick and back up, “I gotta taste you. I need to put my mouth on you. Let me make you feel good, yeah?”
You were on your back, Calvin’s in a ball on the front seat, with Steve crouched between your thighs not even a minute later. 
Thick fingers toyed with the hem of your skirt from his spot, blown out pupils taking over his stare up at you. One of your converse pushed to the other side of the car against the door as your fingers curled around the base of the sweating window above you. 
Steve kissed your knee, and made his way higher between your legs slowly, until he was flipping your skirt up and swallowing as he stared at the space like it was a fucking artwork. 
You giggled, nervously under the intense awestruck stare, squeezing your eyes shut as he strained to get out, “Fuck, honey, you’re trying to kill me.”
He was mesmerized, the way you clenched around nothing, his thumbs spreading you so he could see just how wet you were for him. 
He was really not gonna last much longer. Straining in his jeans painfully like a teenager. 
And that was before you whimpered, before you said:
“Steve, please.”
“Only,” he swallowed, leaning down so his breath hit your cunt in a way that had your hips wiggling, and him closing his eyes, “Only cause you asked so nicely.”
His thumbs held you open, massaging the sides as his tongue licked once, slow and broad, following the path of his nose up to your clit. He did it again, and again, and again. Until his fingers were slipping inside of you, pumping in and out of walls that held him tightly and his mouth sucked at your clit. Then you tugged, forcefully at the curls at the back of his head and practically screamed his name. Like it was full of only the best letters. Like it was yours. 
Your stomach burned, the butterflies angry and in your chest now too, on fire, but happy about it. Steve’s fingers inside of you and mouth on your clit better than any orgasm you’d ever had, and you couldn’t help it when you came without warning, toes curling inside of your converse that kicked at the door and his thigh, while your fingers slipped on the window and your chest ached for a breath as it yelled his name in a way that the whole world would have to know how you felt when they heard it. 
He didn’t pull away until you were gasping and your thighs were shaking and your fingers loosened in his hair. His cheek pressed to your thigh as he stared up at you and gasped out a proud, smug, “I’d like to see Bender of Brian do that.”
You laughed, tired, but happy, and he crawled up your body, kissing any part of it he could find while he ignored the uncomfortable wet patch in the front of his Levi’s. 
Except you noticed and raised your eyebrows at it, a little smug yourself as you said, “Bet Claire couldn’t do that.”
Steve rolled his eyes, but then you were both flinching as a loud smack of something hit the back window. He glanced up and cursed under his breath, rolling down the window slightly as he called out from on top of you, “Hey, Hop.”
There was a loud, deep, sigh from outside as you both sat up with apologetic faces and Steve rolled down the window further. 
Hopper’s cigarette smoke wafted in as he looked at the pair of you with a touch of surprise when he saw it was you next to Steve in the fogged up beemer. He shook his head, frown under the mustache forced.  “It’s past eleven. On a weeknight. Have some decency and do this at home in front of a movie like normal people next time, yeah?”
You both nodded, your teeth pulling at your lip in a terrible attempt at not smiling. 
He walked away, and you and Steve slapped hands over each other’s laughs and snorts, but you still managed to catch the quiet, “Bout damn time.” 
And when Steve dropped you off at home, with a kiss to seal it all and a promise of a real date tomorrow that he’d pick you up for, you shoved the bunched up Calvin’s in his front pocket with your own promise, whispering in his ear the words “Sincerely, yours” before you left him with his mouth open on the front steps, watching you walk away. 
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night-daily · 7 months
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Don't touch her | Roronoa Zoro x fem! reader
summary: You, Nami and Zoro are captive by Buggy when one of his freaks decide to have fun with you.
warnings: spoilers ep 2 one piece live action.
“Can you stop fighting with each other and instead look for a solution to get out of here?” You were exasperated, your cage was little and tighter than Nami's and you were between them so you couldn't stand them anymore, they had been fighting as if you weren't trapped and Luffy was who knows where.
Nami looked at you smiling apologetically and Zoro looked... worried? Maybe was the stressful situation making you see things. Fortunately, Nami was a great thief and of course, she could open her cage and then help you. Hearing a voice coming closer makes you a little nervous, after all, those weren't normal pirates, they were freaks as the clown pirate called them. “Try to distract him” Nami murmured low.
He finally showed up, looking at the three of you carefully, and finally, his eyes stopped on Zoro. They started discussing about his brother, apparently, he was killed by Zoro and he was indifferent making Cabaji furious. He made Zoro spin while throwing knives at him, every time he ''failed'' a vital spot it made your heart race like crazy because if he wanted to kill Zoro, he would have done it already, right?
But you couldn't help the words slip out of your mouth when a knife almost touched one of his wrists.
“Hey freak, do you even know how to throw a knife!?” You were clearly trying to get his attention and you did it. His face turned red, and he looked more furious with you right now than with Zoro, you didn't know if that was good or bad for you, but you didn't care, at least Zoro it's okay it doesn't matter.
But there is a simple rule in this world, never mess up a psycho with a knife.
“You want to be my target so bad, pretty girl?” Cabaji was standing in front of you, so close you could feel his breath on your face. “I promise you I won't fail” He stated so sure of himself it made you shiver.
“Don't touch her.” Zoro's voice was aggressive and his eyes darkened, he clenched his hands into fists ready to fight.
Cabaji ignored him, smiling mischievous still looking at you but before he could do or say anything, Zoro pulled one of his arms out of the rope capturing Cabaji, tightening the grip around his neck suffocating him and dropping him on the ground.
You were focused on Zoro and Cabaji so you didn't hear when Nami opened up the lock from her cage until you saw her by your side helping you to get out.
You and Nami freed Zoro from the ropes when you were done you heard it Luffy's scream across the room, the three of you looked at each other.
“Ready to go?” Nami asked, you and Zoro nodded your heads walking behind her. Then you felt a hand on your wrist forcing you to stop and face him.
“Never do that again, it was stupid, he could have hurt you or worse, kill you” He was serious even a little scared, you have never seen him like this and it made you nervous, you avoided his eyes and he grabbed your chin gently. “I'm serious, I was going crazy.”
“But I'm alive... and it's thanks to you, Zoro” You stood on tiptoe and gave him a kiss on the corner of his lips, taking him by surprise.
This time, you started walking with a big smile on your face, “you coming?” Zoro followed you from behind with a smirk on his face.
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crazyk-imagine · 7 months
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Napping and Cooking
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Pairing: Vinsmoke Sanji x Straw hat!reader
Characters: Vinsmoke Sanji, Straw hat!reader, Monkey D. Luffy, Roronora Zoro, Nami, Usopp, Arlong
Warnings: Fluff, fighting, the asshole Arlong, Sanji being subtlety flustered, you take lots of naps, Sanji being adorable as hell, everyone worrying over you, protect Nami plan is a go, Sanji being like a boyfriend but nothing's official
Word Count: 1,849
A/N: Reader sleeps a lot because her abilities take up a lot of her energy.
Reader also had a lot of hair and it sometimes gets in their face so she has to flip their head upside down and then back up or run their hand through their hair to see.
Reader has a jacket like Mihawk but it goes down to her knees otherwise she'll trip
This man... is something else
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You enter the restaurant and slip past the host in search of your crew. You can hear Luffy and know exactly where they are. You stand in front of the table, "you guys ditched me."
"You were still sleeping," says Luffy.
"You didn't wake me up," you tell them with a pout.
"We tried to," Nami tells you.
"You’re the one that wouldn’t wake up," Zoro adds, glancing at you; wondering if you’ll even make it through the meal.
-
Sanji glances your way and notices your figure standing in front of an unattended table.
He admires your jacket as he heads over.
-
"Fine, you tried. Now move over, stretchy." You try to move him only to fail, which your captain laughs at. You roll your eyes and walk over him, Usopp being kind enough to scooch over, so you have room.
You sit at the top of the booth. You didn't realize it, but you zoned out until Nami smacked your leg. Your jaw drops as you rub the spot. "Ow. Was that necessary?"
She gestures to the blond standing in front of the table.
"And for the madam?"
"What are we doing?"
Nami and Zoro roll their eyes.
"We're ordering our drinks," Usopp tells you.
"Ah, right. Water."
"And would the madam like stilled, sparkling, mineral? With ice or without? Cubed or crushed?"
The corner of your lip twitches. "Well, aren’t we sweet? You want to please all the ladies you, see?"
His head drops, he glances at the ground before looking back up, staring at you through his lashes and hair. "Only the ones who entice me with their beauty."
"I'll let you surprise me."
"Excellent choice, madam. You will not be let down."
"I know I won't."
"What was that?" Zoro asks.
"What?" You turn to him.
He starts rattling off everything Sanji said.
"He was being polite."
"To you," the orange haired girl mutters.
"Huh?"
"He only called me madam once and then you stole his attention. Clearly there was something about you that caught his eye."
"I don’t think so."
Every single kind of water he offered was brought to the table.
-
After Zoro loses the battle and the head chef along with the blond come in to help him, you two start talking each time he's here.
"I smell food," you lean against the doorway.
He chuckles, "I would certainly hope so. You're the only one who hasn't eaten. Are you worried that worried about your friend?"
"Of course, I'm worried about the idiot but not enough to lose too much sleep over him. My abilities take up a lot of my energy and sleeping helps me. I was napping."
He nods, "ah, now that makes sense." He glances up from the ingredients he grabbed. "Would you like to eat something?"
You nod, "I would, kind of why I came down here."
"I know. How do you feel about exposing your palate to an array of flavors?"
"I think I made a mistake."
He shakes his head, smiling. "Nonsense. I'm going to make you an unforgettable meal."
-
You were up on the roof when Argon and his crew entered.
You secure the rope around your waist before jumping down. "Why are you picking on people less than half your size?"
"Who are you?"
"Someone who's already kicked your bony nosed ass."
He growls, realizing who you are.
"You want to fight someone? Fight me," you smirk. "I'm a better opponent than stretchy." You tug at the rope, rolling it up. "Come on, then. Try to hit me."
He comes at you, and you dodge him.
Again.
And again.
And again.
He growls before his hand clamps down on your jacket (something you made sure happened on purpose).
"Don't touch my jacket."
"Why? You gonna cry if I do."
"No," you grab his hand and twist his wrist, "you might. Clone shift."
He's baffled at the sight of him, standing before him. "Stop it. Turn back."
"Nope."
He and Luffy are outside before you can stop him.
"Hey, you two idiots."
His crew turns to you, eyes widening at the sight of their captain even though he just walked out the door.
You punch the two of them hard enough for them to roll on the dock outside the restaurant.
-
You walk over to check on Sanji and Usopp, the former taking a big hit on his back.
"Are you two-" you groan and hold onto the railing as you shift back to yourself.
Blood catches the story teller's eye. "Did you take some of Zoro's cut?"
All the pain in his body left him as the blond urges forward to catch you.
"So, what? It's nothing. I can take it."
"You overexerted yourself enough already. Come on," Sanji says, helping you up.
"Are we going to help Luffy?"
"We are, you're not."
You let out a small disagreeing noise.
"Don't argue with me."
-
You all catch the sight of the energetic captain falling into the water and rush over.
Sanji's quicker than you and takes action. He throws off his shirt and jacket before diving in.
You force yourself to stay awake and not pass out.
His head pops up back in the surface.
Usopp helps haul the rubber man onto the dock.
You hold a handout for the chef, but he doesn't take it. "Where's Nami?"
"She's gone. She's apart of Arlong's crew," Usopp tells Luffy.
Sanji's body slumps down, his butt resting on the heels of his feet.
Dots cloud your vision and your feet sway, you knew the second you cloned, you were done.
Sanji and Usopp catch you before you could fall.
The blond man leaning down to listen to your heartbeat and make sure you're- "She's still breathing."
"She," Luffy takes a deep breath, his voice coming out scratchy. "She did too much."
"We need to get you two back on your ship."
-
You wake up and find yourself in your room.
You sit up, finding no one else here.
You grab your jacket and make your way to the kitchen.
-
"He convinced you?"
Sanji jumps, not expecting you to be awake. "Are you hungry?"
You nod and slowly make your way over to the couch. "No objections. I'll take whatever the chef makes."
"That can get dangerous if you say that to the wrong person."
"Good thing I'm just talking to you."
The corner of his lips twitch as gets back to work.
"Hey, I just-" Usopp smiles when he sees you here. "You're up. How're feeling?"
"Hungry and tired."
"The usual, cool. I wasn't worried, at all." He stops in front of the chef. "What's new on today's menu?"
"Not for you."
He gasps, "rude. I fought in that battle too, you know."
"You crawled away like a bug being found under a log."
He whines when you out him.
The other two enter the kitchen.
Zoro glances at you, "you're an idiot."
"Way to make a girl feel special asshole."
"You're going to have a scar."
"You're welcome for making sure you don't die because of your own mistake, moron."
He leans against the wall, watching over everyone.
Luffy stretches his arms out to hug you, letting his body slam into you. "You're awake. Are you okay? You passed out. Is that always normal?"
Usopp smacks the captain, "get off her. She just woke up, you're not helping."
"Food is ready."
"Time to eat!"
"No," Sanji smacks Luffy with the dish towel. "The lady gets hers first."
You stick your tongue out at your friend. "I knew I liked you for a reason."
"Other than my good looks."
The green haired man rolls his eyes, "would you stop flirting and feed the idiot before he steals the food."
"Not until the lady gets hers."
"The lady will be fine."
"You call yourself a man. A true man would make sure-"
You flick the two of them on their foreheads. "Shut up."
You give Luffy and Usopp their bowls, "eat you animals."
-
"Oh, we told the town of your sacrifice," you explain to Nami.
"We didn't know. Could you ever forgive us?" The guard asks.
"This is going to be a massacre," the orange haired girl says.
"For them," you crack your knuckles. "I got this."
Usopp thins his lips, "I don't think so. You're just gonna lose consciousness again."
"Why don't I knock you unconscious?"
Sanji steps forward and pulls you off the side. "Excuse her, she was woken up from a nap." He covers your ears. "She's cranky."
You smack his hands off you.
-
You sit on the wall, watching as everyone fights. It was the smart move, save more of your energy.
It was only when they started bad mouthing Nami that you really started getting fired up. "Woah! Hey! Hey!" You grab a rock and throw it at the fishman's head. "Don't bad mouth my friend!"
Sanji removes his jacket without removing his gaze.
"Now you've done it," Zoro mumbles.
You jump down and walk towards the green haired man.
Sanji doesn't stop until the fishman has been taken care of.
Zoro judges the chef, with him calling out his finishing move.
"Ignore him. You did good, Sanji."
He lowers his head, unable to respond to your comment.
Zoro shakes his head, not in the mood to deal with his pining.
Usopp makes his way back to you.
"Nice of you to join us."
The storyteller smiles. "Yeah, just- uh- wish I didn't miss so much of this."
You glance at Zoro and raise a brow, both of you knowing that he doesn't mean it.
The green haired man just gives him a look of disappointment.
Nami runs away from the deteriorating building and glances back over her shoulder. She turns back and runs towards you guys.
Sanji opens his arms with a smile, "Nami!"
She ignores him and throws her arms around the second in command and storyteller.
You offer him a sorry look before turning around at the sound of her calling your name. "Are you okay?" You ask.
Instead of replying she throws her arms around you, holding you tightly. "Thank you."
"Why?"
"You and Luffy gave me something I never thought I could have."
You smile. "Alright kid, get off me." You wipe her under eyes, making sure no one knew how much she was crying. You pat Sanji's shoulder, "she just doesn't know you yet."
"That would make sense."
"Where's Luffy?"
"He's still in there, fighting Arlong."
You huff, "why can't he wait for help?" You groan and start to take a step forward when they stop you.
The chef grabs your wrist and pulls you back. "Nope."
"Are you nuts?" Usopp asks. "I mean seriously. You want to fight that fishman?!"
"I'm not going to let Luffy-" The building collapses. "Great! My oldest friend is-"
"Nami! We are you're friends! We are your crew!"
"Still alive! Yay!" You jump up and down before throwing yourself into the blond's arms.
"Look who finally got their hug."
"Shut up, Nami."
Continue to: Part II
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