#and so he lost all the popularity and friends from middle school | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

theemporium · 1 year

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🥺👉👈

Best friend Eddie has had a *thing* for reader since middle school. But is worried to go for it (reader is sweet, smart, and funny. Probably would be popular if she didn't spend so much time with the "freaks".) So he'll take any little bit of affection he can get from her.

(I think we've all seen from the show and the interviews that JQ's love language is touch.)

Maybe Eddie starts hugging her and holding her a lot until one day at lunch he puts his hand on her knee and she moves it onto her thigh under her skirt (?).

You can take it from there 😂 that's the extent of my genius.

thank you for requesting!🖤

part two

Eddie Munson had always been an affectionate and touchy guy.

You had been friends with him for many years and it was an undeniable fact the boy loved to show his affection through physical touch. Whether it was an arm thrown over the shoulders of the younger boys in the club as they make their way to the classroom to start the latest campaign, or whether it was knocking shoulders and excitedly hugging his bandmates when they make a breakthrough on a song they had been working on.

Eddie was an affectionate guy and that treatment was extended to you too.

It also just happened that he had a massive fucking crush on you and felt like his heart was going to burst through his chest every time he touched you.

It had been a normal Thursday. Classes had been long and torturous, but Eddie was practically bouncing in his seat to head towards the cafeteria for lunch. When he walked into the room, he saw you sitting in your usual seat—the one right next to him at the head of the table.

It was difficult to wipe the grin off his face as he made his way towards the table, slumping down into his seat and not even wasting a moment before he was gripping the back of your chair, dragging you close enough until your thighs were pressed together. He did this every day but something about you liked the way your heart skipped when he pulled you closer.

It baffled Eddie why you always sat with them. You weren’t in Hellfire, not really. You never played but you enjoyed listening to them rant and ramble about it. You had other friends you could have sat with, ones that wouldn’t have made you seem as though you were a ‘freak’ along with the rest of them. But despite Eddie’s insistence that he wouldn’t be offended if you sat somewhere else, you still chose the seat right next to him—to make your own point.

You were very happy and content where you were, settled under Eddie’s arm with your head resting against his shoulder as he continued to discuss the latest campaign with the other boys. You smiled softly, watching how excited and animated they got and the way Eddie’s face glistened in pride at how much they loved his campaign.

But then your thoughts started to wander and you felt something warm just above your knee, your eyes darting down to see Eddie subconsciously place his hand on your thigh and gently stroke the skin exposed by your skirt.

You pressed your lips together, not saying anything. You didn’t want him to move his hand, maybe because you weren’t sure Eddie saw you as anything but a best friend. And with this—with this, you could pretend it was something more.

Then his hand moved up a little, the movement almost a little hesitant like he was waiting for you to push it back down.

But you didn’t.

You waited for him to shift higher but it stayed firmly where it was, a couple of inches below the hem of your skirt. Your eyes darted up, seeing the boys still screaming and yelling at each other across the table and lost in their own conversation. You stole a quick glance at Eddie, finding his eyes firmly stuck on the boys but the hint of a smirk on his lips gave you another idea.

Your fingers slowly wrapped around his wrist, giving it a soft squeeze before you began to guide his hand higher up your thigh. It inched closer and closer until—

Eddie cleared his throat when you pushed his hand under your skirt, your thighs clenching together to trap his hand there. He pressed his lips together, forcing himself to keep his face neutral as though blood wasn’t roaring in his ears and going straight down to his cock.

Your legs parted a little, just enough for him to move his fingers once again. You kept your gaze anywhere but your lap, the heat rushing to your cheeks warning enough that you would instantly blow your cover if you saw the sight of his hand between your legs.

Eddie’s fingers slowly crawled further up your leg, his fingertips teasing your clothed cunt. You let out a small gasp, quickly covering it up with a cough as you felt his fingers press more firmly against your panties.

You nuzzled yourself against his side, the action not uncommon and, therefore, ignored by the rest of the group. Your face was practically pressed against the fabric of his jacket, muffling the small sounds that left your lips as his fingers grazed up and down your cunt—the touch too light but enough to make you squirm.

Nobody even questioned it when Eddie ducked his head down, his lips pressed against your ear and his warm breath fanned across your skin.

“You’re so wet, baby,” he muttered, his voice low enough that only you could hear him. “And I’ve barely even touched you.”

“Eddie,” you breathed out.

“I didn’t know you liked this kinda stuff, sweetheart,” he murmured, his fingers pushing against your clothed clit as you fought the urge to squirm. “Letting me do this to you when anybody could see.”

“Shit,” you hissed, the fabric of your panties soaked.

“Who knew my best friend was such a slut,” he cooed softly.

“Eds,” you whined slightly, your cheeks flushing when you felt his thumb press slow circles on your clit.

“Or maybe you’re just a slut f’me,” he teased, grinning a little when you nodded your head. “A shame, baby.”

Before you could even process his words or the way your stomach twisted in delight at his words, he was pulling his hand away and resting his hands on the table like nothing happened.

You gaped at him, your panties now soaked and your body desperate to feel his touch again but the boy just shot you a look.

“Later,” he said, eyes darkening a little when he noticed the way your thighs clenched together. “Keep ‘em on all day and you’ll get a reward later, in my van.”

You bit your bottom lip.

His lips grew into a smirk. “Gonna make sure that pretty little skirt of yours is fucking ruined, sweetheart, don’t worry.”

And then he returned to the conversation about his campaign like nothing was wrong.

#eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #stranger things x y/n #stranger things fic #stranger things one shot #stranger things smut

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ashwhowrites · 7 months

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Hi! I was wondering if you could do a billy hargrove x reader where they’re at a party (i’d like the whole crew to all be friends robin, steve, nancy, billy, eddie) and reader wanders off for a minute. she somehow gets in the middle of a fight and someone hits her. she comes up to billy crying and he goes into super protective mode? idk i thought it sounded kind of cute i love your writing!!

I miss Billy. And thank you so much!!! I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting <3

Bodyguard

Billy and Y/N have been together for almost two years. They met when he moved into town, she was swept away by his charming smile and blue eyes. She was a grade younger, now finally in her senior year alongside Eddie and Robin. Billy graduated with Steve and Nancy, but they all still hung out. And since Y/N was in high school knew the popular crowd, and was King Billy's girlfriend, she got invited to a lot of parties. And the group was always happy to tag along.

Billy, Steve, and Eddie were hanging outside, passing around a cigarette as they leaned against the back of the house. Robin, Nancy, and Y/N were inside, dancing and getting drinks. The boys were chatting among random things, then Robin came rushing out. She stood by the back door and searched the crowd. Once her eyes landed on Billy she screamed for him.

~~~

"JASON! RELAX!" Y/N yelled, Jason was yanking Chrissy around the party, another fight that Y/N didn't know what about. She wanted to protect her friend, Chrissy.

"This doesn't involve you," Jason growled, his grip still on Chrissy but he got in Y/N's face. Robin and Nancy watched nervously, a bad feeling in their gut.

"Y/N, just leave it!" Nancy tried, a crowd forming around the arguing couple.

"She's not going home with you. She said no and that means no." Y/N snapped, she didn't back down, holding her head higher as Jason looked down at her.

"She's my girlfriend, so butt out," Jason said, turning around as he dragged Chrissy with him. Y/N stepped in quickly, grabbing Chrissy's other arm. Y/N yanked her back, Jason lost his grip and his hand flew back smacking Y/N right in the nose. Y/N yelped and covered her nose, feeling warm blood dripping from her nose.

~~~

"BILLY. ITS Y/N!" Billy, Steve, and Eddie all jumped into action, Billy smashed the cigarette under his shoe and raced to Robin.

Steve and Eddie knew if it involved Y/N, Billy wouldn't think rationally.

"WHAT'S WRONG?" Billy yelled, following her into the house. Robin didn't try to explain, just racing to the bathroom.

Billy felt nervous, was she sick?

Billy walked in to see Nancy holding ice to Y/N's nose, the front of her dress had spots of blood. He softly pushed Nancy aside, grabbing the ice as he held it for Y/N. Chrissy was silent in the corner.

"What happened?" He whispered, gently rubbing her cheek as he looked at her nose. It wasn't broken, which he was thankful for.

"Nothing, I'm fine, baby," she said, rubbing his arm. Her eyes were red and her cheeks were soaked. Her lip trembled as she silently cried.

"Baby, you have a bruised nose. Did you slip or something? Nothing to be embarrassed about." He joked, a smile on his face. But the atmosphere told him it wasn't anything that would be funny in a day from now.

"She was helping me and Jason flung his arm and he smacked her in the nose," Chrissy said, drowning in the amount of guilt she felt.

Billy's expression went hard in seconds. Steve and Eddie immediately blocked the door as Billy started to breathe heavily.

"He hit you?" Billy snarled, dropping the ice in the sink as he took in her face.

"It was an accident, Billy! Just relax. I'm okay!" She tried, but all Billy could focus on was the fact that she had blood on her dress because of Jason.

"You're okay? You have a fucking bloody nose! I'm going to kill him!" Billy growled. He turned and glared at Steve and Eddie.

"Move." He demanded, but both boys shook their heads.

"Billy, not a good idea. She's okay and she doesn't want you to get involved with it." Steve explained. But Billy didn't care.

"Move or I move you." Billy tried again.

Steve and Eddie looked at each other, knowing the result would land them in pain or Jason. Both boys moved away from the door, Billy yanking it open as he raced out to the party.

"BILLY!" Y/N screamed, running after him. The gang followed behind, all rushing to see what was going to happen.

By the time they caught up, Billy had Jason pinned against the wall. His blue eyes were dark as he growled at Jason.

"IT WAS AN ACCIDENT! SHE PUT HER NOSE WHERE IT DIDN'T BELONG. MAYBE KEEP YOUR LITTLE SLUT OF THE WEEK ON A TIGHTER LEASH!" Jason yelled, barely realizing his mistake until Billy landed a knee to his stomach, over and over.

Jason screamed in pain as Billy dropped him, his body crumpling to the floor as he held his stomach. Now on his knees, Billy landed a punch right across his face. Blood poured out of Jason's nose as he dropped completely to the ground this time. He wrapped his arms around his face as he tried to surrender.

"Enough" Eddie demanded, stepping in front of Jason as Billy went to land a kick to his stomach.

"DON'T YOU EVER TOUCH HER OR EVEN TALK ABOUT HER AGAIN!" Billy screamed.

"Hey, hey!" Eddie said, snapping his fingers in Billy's face to catch his attention. Billy finally looked at him, breathing heavily as he tried to calm down.

"He got the message. Y/N is fine and needs you now. Okay? Walk away."

Billy listened to Eddie's words and took a deep breath. His body relaxed when he felt Y/N's hand slip into his. She squeezed it gently as she stood next to him. She gave him a look and he understood everything. He nodded and walked with her. He wrapped his arm around her and kissed her nose as they walked to his car.

"My bodyguard." Y/N swooned, giggling as she snuggled into his body, reaching his car.

"Precious things like you need extra protection," Billy said, smiling as he leaned down to peck her lips softly.

The gang races out, Robin laughing as she held empty bottles of beer, along with Nancy.

"GET IN! GO GO!" Steve yelled, Eddie running behind.

A soaked Jason came limping out, his white shirt now drenched as he held his nose. Cursing as the gang raced into the car and sped off.

#billy hargrove fluff #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove stranger things #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove #billy hargove x reader #billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove angst x reader #billy hargrove angst to fluff #ashwhowrites #billy hargrove request

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swiftlyinlove · 4 months

Text

Santa Doesn't Know You Like I Do

pairing: Spencer Reid x f!reader

summary: You and Spencer are best friends, but there's always been a little spark between you. When he cancels your plans for Christmas, you're determined to prove that you know him better than anyone else.

warnings: idiots in love, christmas fluff, a little angst if you squint??

word count: approximately 4.5k

a/n: Hi! It's been a long time since I wrote much of anything, but writing this for Christmas has been an absolute joy. I love Spencer so much, and this poor boy just suffers... I wanted to give him a happy ending for Christmas - or a happy beginning. I hope you like it.

The first thing you realized after the beep signaled the end of the phone call was how weird Spencer was acting lately.

To be fair, you two had an unconventional friendship. Due to the nature of his job, Spencer was often busy and therefore you couldn’t communicate as much as you'd like to, but you'd set up a base rule to make sure you never lost touch with one another: mandatory Friday night video call.

Every Friday, without fail, you would Facetime. Spencer wasn’t fond of technology, you were aware, but he’d gladly face his prejudice and lack of knowledge of anything digital if it meant talking to you. It didn't matter if he was home or if he was in another state for a case; come nine pm on a Friday, you two would be catching up about your lives.

That, of course, meant that you'd grasp at every opportunity you could to be with each other. He was in town for a case? You would meet up and have dinner if he had time; if he was doing something important and couldn’t finish it in time for dinner, he would drop by your place at the craziest hour in the morning and lie down next to you, gently shaking you awake to reveal he had gotten take out from your favorite restaurant.

Despite being awakened from your slumber, you would greet him with the brightest smile he’s ever seen - well, after letting out a little shriek of surprise, to which Spencer would respond with an “It’s me, little menace” and a chuckle that would make your heart flutter every time.

The nickname had originated from your childhood. Spencer didn’t have many friends in middle school, and the fact that he was much smarter than kids his age didn’t help. His classmates either made fun of him or avoided him altogether, but you were… different.

When you first moved into town, you were very nervous for your first day of school. Making friends was never easy for you, as your peers would deem you rather weird for always having your nose stuck in books. However, you quickly realized you had nothing to worry about - it took one look at little Spencer Reid, reading Crime and Punishment at the lunch table, for you to know you had found your place.

You sat next to him, ignoring the snickers from the so-called “popular kids”. He hesitantly lifted his gaze from the wrinkled pages - you reckoned he had probably read that book many times before -, expecting to see someone with a mean scowl ready to taunt him.

Instead, his wide eyes were met with your bright smile, your rosy cheeks, and your adorable ponytails, and he frowned in confusion. “Hello…?”

“Hi. I’m Y/N.” You greeted him excitedly. There was something about him that made you feel confident, so you continued. “I’m new here and I noticed you were sitting alone. And that seems like a really cool book if you don’t mind me saying, and I just thought you-”

You cut yourself off, realizing you were rambling. You could feel your cheeks warming up, and you were sure you looked as flustered as you were feeling. Before you could even dwell on how embarrassed you felt, Spencer’s lips broke into a smile.

And that was it. From that moment on, you had been inseparable. Well, perhaps not physically; after all, he was academically way ahead of you and everyone else, and he even managed to graduate from high school at only twelve years old.

That didn’t stop you from hanging out every moment you could, nor from exchanging letters every single day when he went to college. To this day, you still had those letters, safely tucked into a charming wooden box you kept on your bookshelf, but you’d never tell him that (although you were sure he knew, as the great profiler he was).

So, despite being separated due to your busy jobs - his more than yours - and living in different states, it wasn’t a surprise when you started arranging to spend the holidays together.

Since his mother was still institutionalized, Spencer didn't really have anyone to celebrate the holidays with and therefore didn't care much for the traditions. You, on the other hand, loved the holidays, but since your parents had passed away when you were in college, you were also alone during the season.

Thus, you cut a deal. Every year, he would use his extra vacation days to take a week off around Christmas and you would take turns visiting each other. Usually, you were both very excited about this occasion – it was one of the rare opportunities you had to be together in person, and you missed each other terribly.

This year, though... You had just called Spencer to confirm the date so you could book your flight to Quantico, and he had simply managed to say he couldn’t take time off before hanging up on you.

You were confused by this but chalked it up to it being one of those days for him. Working at the BAU, Spencer had to deal with a lot of gruesome cases often and, after a really bad one, he didn't find any energy to do much of anything.

While he'd never avoided you per se, when those days coincided with your phone calls, you would try to comfort him the best you could, and sometimes even managed to cheer him up a little.

This time, you didn't even have the chance to, and that threw you off. Still, if Spencer was in a bad mood, maybe he just didn't feel like talking. Not even to you.

Deciding to not push it any further, it's only a few days later that you brought up your trip to Quantico, this time via text. You spent the entire day nearly jumping at your phone each time it vibrated, expecting a notification with his name on it.

It was only later that night that you'd get your answer in the form of an ‘I can't this year’. You read the text over and over again, eyebrows furrowed in disbelief. Perhaps it had been wishful thinking, but you had hoped that, once he was in a better mood, he would be just as eager as you for your shared holiday season.

It occurred to you that perhaps something happened, perhaps he couldn't file for a vacation because he had a big case that he couldn't step away from.

But if that were the case, he would've told you so. He would've explained, apologized even, and tried to schedule another date for your trip to make it up to you. So, you concluded, he just didn't want to see you.

That thought haunted you for the entire week.

Finally having enough of feeling blue and not getting any work done, you decided to go straight to the source in search of answers. Well, source adjacent - Spencer was still replying rather coldly to your texts, so you couldn’t ask him directly. Penelope Garcia was the next best thing.

You had met the members of the BAU after a particularly successful case in your city. Their flight would only leave in the morning and Spencer thought he could take the opportunity to take you to the cinema for a late-night movie, just like the good old days of your adolescence.

However, Penelope and Rossi had other plans. To properly celebrate their hard work that led to saving multiple women who had been kidnapped a few weeks prior, they decided to take the team out for dinner in a nice restaurant.

“And it’s mandatory. It’s not like we have anything else to do tonight, so no excuses.” She had warned in a playfully threatening tone.

Spencer shifted in his spot while putting away his things in his satchel. After all the years he worked at the BAU, he still hadn’t told his coworkers - his found family, really - about you. It was the one thing he kept close to his chest, the one secret he wanted to keep forever.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he brushed his hair behind his ears, not daring to turn and face the team while he spoke. “I sort of already have plans.”

His voice was so quiet that the team wasn’t sure they had heard him correctly. After a moment of silence, Derek’s lips curled into his (in)famous smirk and he gently nudged Spencer’s side, making the lanky boy turn around to face his friends.

Spencer’s cheeks were flushed and he kept his eyes trained on the ground, not wanting to face the curious expressions on their faces. But when Derek nudged him again, asking him “Who’s the girl?” with such a teasing tone, he couldn’t help but look up.

“She’s just a friend.” He blurted out, eyes immediately widening upon the realization of what he admitted.

While the rest of the team just shrugged it off and dived into their conversations, Derek patted him on the back - the force of which sent Spencer stumbling a few feet forward -, and Penelope lit up like he had just told her that he won the lottery.

“You have to bring her!” Penelope begged, grabbing his arm as they walked towards the door of the local precinct they had been working on for the case. “I want to meet this mystery woman.”

Penelope didn’t say it to him then, but she was sure you weren’t ‘just a friend’. She might’ve not been a profiler, but the look in his eyes when he spoke about you and his hesitation to cancel your plans for the sake of the team made her think that perhaps you were much more special to him than he realized.

Her suspicions were, of course, confirmed when he showed up at the restaurant a few hours later with you in his arms, wearing an elegant black dress and a radiant smile on your face as you whispered something to him, immediately breaking into a fit of giggles.

Spencer tried to feign indignation at your comment, but he couldn’t help but smile as he led you to his friends, who were all watching the interaction with surprise and disbelief. Your laughter calmed when you reached the table, but the smile never fell from your face as Spencer introduced you, looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky. That’s when Penelope knew.

You clicked rather well with his friends. They were, naturally, very curious about you, and you did your best to answer all their questions. Meanwhile, Spencer, who was sitting next to you, placed a hand on your lower back, making sure you didn’t feel overwhelmed under the attentive eyes of his friends.

Penelope and you were a match made in heaven, Spencer reckoned. You quipped back and forth the entire night, even swapping numbers by the end of it, and Spencer even joked that you had found a new favorite FBI agent as you made your way to his car.

Chuckling at his statement, you stopped in your tracks, wrapping your arms around his neck and leaning up to place a tender kiss on his cheek. “You’ll always be my favorite. But she’s a close second.”

Spencer was sure his heart had stopped right then and there and that he had gone to heaven.

Since that night, you frequently called Penelope to talk about numerous things - from the latest TV shows you were both hooked on to recipes for dessert -, but you rarely talked about Spencer. Until today.

“Penny, I need your help.” You blurted out as soon as the blonde answered your call.

“Woah, woah, calm down my friend,” Penelope answered, amused and slightly worried about the urgency in your tone. “What’s on your pretty little mind?”

All it took for Penelope to know something was wrong was two words. “It’s Spencer.”

“What about boy wonder?” The technical analyst questioned, trying to make sense of what you were saying.

“He’s been acting so cold lately.” You explained, sighing in exhaustion as you plopped down on your couch. “Well, you know how we always arrange to spend the holidays together?”

Penelope hummed in agreement - every year when Spencer would put in a request to take time off during the holidays, she would make sure it was at the top of Strauss’ paperwork, knowing he was doing it for you.

At her approval, you continued. “This year I was supposed to come to Quantico, but every time I try to bring it up, he shuts me down and just says that he can’t. I don’t understand why he’s acting like this and it's been driving me nuts all week.”

The blonde’s eyebrows furrowed as she looked at your image on the phone.

“Are we sure we’re talking about the same person? Because he seemed pretty excited last week. He wouldn’t shut up about how he found the perfect gift for you and how he couldn’t wait to see your face when you opened it.”

This confused you even more, and you frowned as you processed her words. “Yeah, well, this week he can barely text me back. I don’t want anything crazy, Penny, I just want to be with him for Christmas.”

“I don’t know what happened. As far as I can tell, he did put in the request for a vacation.” Penelope replied. Then, her face lit up in realization and she cursed under her breath. “Morgan.”

“Morgan? What does Derek have to do with this?” You asked, more disoriented than ever.

“Wait here,” Penelope said, quickly getting up from her chair and leaving you to stare at her empty office. She returns a few minutes later, looking pretty annoyed, to see you making a cup of coffee in your kitchen.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, sweet cheeks.” The blonde said apologetically, making your gaze return to your phone, forgotten on the counter as you waited for her.

You quickly picked it up, registering her distressed expression. “What happened?”

“I found out why Reid’s acting like an ass to you.” She replied, her voice softening as she saw the glimmer of worry in your eyes. “It seems like Morgan has done quite a number on him.”

“What do you mean Morgan has done a number on him? What did he do?” You questioned, growing irritated by Penelope’s ability to beat around the bush. You loved her, you really did, but you just wanted to know what happened.

“I’m not sure I should be telling you this, but since you’re so upset…” Penelope trailed off, pursing her lips. “Morgan better pay me back.”

“Penelope, just spit it out.” You interrupted, your impatience reflected in your tone.

“Fine. I told you Reid wouldn’t shut up about you, and Morgan may or may not have teased him about his feelings for you and it may or may not have caused Spencer to clam up in his shell.” Penelope rushed through her words and you blinked, unsure you had heard her correctly.

You could feel your heart beating in your ears as you asked her, “Spencer… Has feelings for me?”

Penelope looked reluctant to answer your questions, clearly not wanting to violate Spencer’s privacy. Ever since she met you, she knew you and the resident FBI genius were destined for each other, but she wanted you to discover on your terms.

“Penny, please.” You sounded out of breath, and it cleared any sign of hesitation on Penelope’s mind.

“Baby girl, I can’t be the one to tell you that. You have to ask him.” She responded, her voice full of empathy. “But between me and you, I’m pretty sure you know what the answer is.”

Spencer was certain that he was in the 9th circle of hell.

Ever since Morgan’s comment, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. He always knew what you two had was special. You knew how to make him laugh; Spencer didn’t consider himself to be difficult to entertain, but he could be quite oblivious to his coworkers' jokes sometimes, especially if they were about him. But you? Oh, you managed to make him laugh hysterically with a simple comment, and it endeared him.

You had been with him through the good and the bad, after all. You were there at his graduation, celebrating his first Ph.D. - and the two that came after that, too - and you were right there by his side when he watched his mother be dragged away to a mental institution, holding his hand in an attempt to comfort him.

That was what he loved most about you. He could always count on you to be there for him. He recalled the first moment he realized you were much more than a friend to him.

It had been after the Tobias Hankel case. Spencer slipped in and out of consciousness as the doctors dragged him through the hospital, murmuring to themselves about testing the drugs in his system and checking his vitals.

His life wasn’t in danger anymore, but he was oh so tired. He had spent days upon days of captivity without a wink of sleep, locked in an empty cabin where he was tortured by two of Tobias’ personalities, and all he could think about between getting tormented and getting drugged was you.

He was sure he was going to die then, and his main concern was that he wouldn’t be able to see your pretty smile again. He would tell you this when you appeared at his bedside a few hours later, claiming that you received a call from the hospital - unsurprisingly, you were each other’s emergency contacts - and had threatened a stewardess to get a ticket to the next plane to Virginia, and you would call him ridiculous for it.

It was only when you were sitting next to him on his hospital bed, his head leaning against your chest as you combed your hands through his hair, that he allowed himself to cry, to reveal how truly scared he had been under Tobias’ hands.

You whispered sweet nothings in his ear as you softly lifted his head, making sure he was looking at you when you softly kissed his tears away. His arms had tightened around you, a silent sign of his gratitude, and he knew then, he knew, you were everything to him.

How could he have not fallen for you after all that?

But he could never tell you. He had been rejected many times in his life, but if he was to get rejected by you? He was sure his heart wouldn’t be able to take it.

So he tried to bury his feelings deep inside him, keeping you a secret from the people who knew him best and, when the time came, introduced you to them. As a friend. Because that’s all that you were. Friends.

When Morgan teased him about his feelings for you, Spencer entered panic mode. If Morgan could see Spencer was madly in love with you, then you could see it too - you could always read him like a book, after all.

And if you hadn’t brought it up… You didn’t want to. He knew you’d never want to hurt him, so the only logical conclusion he could reach was: you don’t feel the same.

He tried his best to avoid you. Cutting you off whenever you brought up your plans for the holidays, replying to your texts with short answers, and even refraining from watching Doctor Who in his free time, because it only reminded him of how you two used to lie on your couch during summer break and watch it together.

What he didn’t count on was opening his door in mid-afternoon on Christmas Eve and seeing you standing in front of him, coat covered in the snow that was falling outside the comfort of his building and a small smile on your face.

“Merry Christmas, Spencer.” You said bashfully, not sure how he would react to your presence.

“Merry Christmas.” He replied, his breath knocked out of his lungs at how beautiful you looked standing there. He might have fallen in love with you all over again.

After a beat of silence, he wet his lips, looking at you with the same wide-eyed gaze he greeted you with when you were kids. “What... What are you doing here?”

Your lips curled into a sheepish smile. “What, you thought I was gonna miss Christmas?”

Seeing you in front of him, hearing your voice without the faint static of the phone for the first time in a while… it was surreal to him. He couldn’t help but cave in and wrap his arms around you, pulling you closer into a tight hug.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders just as tightly, your body finally relaxing against his. You could feel his nose nuzzled into your neck, and you smiled against his shoulder.

“I missed you.” You whispered, letting your words linger between the two of you.

“I missed you too.” He whispered back, and you knew he was sincere. “I’m sorry I’ve been avoiding you.”

“I know.” You breathed in his scent, pressing a soft kiss against his shoulder before pulling away. He reluctantly let you go, a remorseful smile on his lips.

Spencer guided you into his apartment, and you took note of how he put up your usual Christmas decorations. “You managed to set up the tree by yourself?” You teased him.

He chuckled, watching as you settled on his couch and patted the space next to you. He promptly followed your lead, sitting down beside you. “Yeah, it was a real challenge.”

Before you could even reply, Spencer reached out to grab your hand, his thumb softly caressing your knuckles to calm his racing mind.

“Look, I’m so sorry. I’ve been stuck in my head lately, and it’s not fair that I treated you like that. We’ve had this tradition forever and I feel like I disrespected it and-” Spencer rambled, and you pressed your lips against his to shut him up.

Your sudden action stunned him, and he couldn’t help but succumb to your spell. Placing his hands on both sides of your face and closing his eyes, he kissed you back as gently and tenderly as he could, feeling you melt against him.

Once you pulled away, his eyes fluttered open, looking at you with a lovestruck, surprised gaze. He seemed to be speechless, which made you giggle.

“I hope that was on your wishlist this Christmas.” You joked, leaning your forehead against his.

Your gaze softened as you took in his expression. “Penny told me everything. In all seriousness, I understand why you did it. I just don’t understand why you wouldn’t just tell me.”

He gulped, feeling vulnerable under your loving stare. He always got the impression that you could see right through him.

“I know. It’s just… I’ve been in love with you almost my entire life, and when I finally realized it, I was afraid that if I acted on them, you wouldn’t want anything to do with me.” He murmured, his tone growing sadder.

“And when Morgan joked about my feelings for you, I just realized that maybe I hadn’t been as discreet as I thought and perhaps you already knew and didn’t talk about it so you wouldn’t hurt me.” He continued, closing his eyes again as if the mere thought was too painful to bear.

He took a deep breath, his thumbs starting to slowly brush against your cheekbones. “I didn’t want to face you and find out if it was true, because… Because my heart couldn’t take it.”

You listened quietly to his words, his touch on your skin grounding you and sending butterflies fluttering in your stomach. It broke your heart to hear him speak like that, as if the mere thought of you feeling the same never crossed his mind, as if it was absurd.

You knew he had low self-esteem, a permanent scar from all the times he was bullied throughout his life, but his self-deprecating view never ceased to shock you.

“Spencer…” You whispered his name like it was sacred, like he was something to be worshipped, and it made his heart skip a beat. “I know all your favorite songs, how you take your coffee, and your favorite books. In order. I know you. I’d be crazy not to love you.”

You could feel him exhale in relief at your quiet confession, his racing mind finding solace in your words. “Really?”

“Of course.” You replied with a chuckle, leaning forward to press a feather-light peck against his lips. “I’ve been in love with you since we were, like, sixteen. All I ever wanted was to be the one to give you everything you want.”

He smiled as you pulled away once again, thinking about how much time you two had lost while dancing around your feelings. Although, he supposed, it wasn’t lost time - you had spent those years giving each other love, even if it wasn’t necessarily romantic.

“We’re both idiots.” He replied, making you laugh once more. You stood up, grabbing both of his hands and guiding him to the kitchen. He followed you with a bright smile on his face; he would follow you anywhere, he suspected.

“I was thinking I could make those cookies you like and, afterward, we could perhaps… snuggle by the fireplace?” You suggested, giving him your best puppy dog eyes.

He pretended to think for a moment, before he finally gave in, pressing a delicate kiss against your temple. “Anything you want, little menace.”

Spencer hummed, burying his face further into his neck. “I was thinking of reading a few books. Santa was going to keep me company.”

Later that night, when you were both snuggled up against each other in front of his fireplace while eating the gingerbread cookies you both made, you asked him curiously, “What were you planning to do for Christmas, if I hadn’t shown up?”

You laughed quietly at his admission. “Well, Santa doesn’t know you like I do.”

“No, he doesn’t.” Your genius agreed, peppering little kisses onto your skin. “You’re the best Christmas present ever, do you know that?”

“Yeah? Wait until you see what I actually bought for you.” You replied, a playful smile on your face. “Besides, a little birdie told me you got me the perfect Christmas gift.”

“I’m gonna kill Penelope.” He muttered under his breath, sending you into a fit of laughter.

Well, maybe this Christmas time

You'll finally realize

That I could be the one

To give you everything you want

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #penelope garcia #derek morgan #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid cm #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid one shot #fluff #best friends to lovers #criminal minds oneshot #Spotify

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celestie0 · 5 days

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childhood friends to lovers with gojo.

warnings/tags. fluff & angst, sad ending

you two were five when he kisses ur cheek on the playground underneath the slide n you both thought that counted as a first kiss. u two were attached by the hip all throughout elementary school, i mean srs, your parents would even have joint parent teacher conferences bc there was just nothing the two of you wouldn't do together.

and then middle school came around, you joined the marching band n he joined the football team. he starts acting different around you, and it hurts. bc you two were best friends. you were always supposed to be best friends. he starts hanging out w the popular kids, and you find yourself walking home alone. summer before high school, he wants to hang out again, but you tell him you deserve better than that. and you two drift apart.

it's hard starting high school without him, watching him from afar during lunch in the cafeteria. he's with his table of phonies, acting like someone he's not, and you know because you've always known him. better than anyone else. you really wanna join the cheer team, since you've done gymnastics for a long time, but you've always been too afraid to tryout for the team. this time, you do, and you get in. now all of a sudden he wants to talk to you again, now that you're popular in high school and have earned a place on the field during his games. fuck that, you say to him, you threw away what we had just because i wasn't good enough for you to have by your side. you start dating his teammate, you two are nominated for prom queen & king, and he has to watch as you kiss someone else on stage when you win. someone that should've been him. he starts dating the cheer captain, just to show it off when he comes running to her after a winning game, kissing her right in front of you but he's not looking at her, he's looking at you. to make sure you're watching. and you do the same thing to him. and the whole time you two are wondering what are we doing to one another?

summer after high school, he shows up to your doorstep one day on his skateboard. with a box full of all the letters you used to send him as a kid. you still have yours too, somewhere tucked underneath your bed. you spend the whole afternoon laughing with him as you read through them all, laying on the carpet of your living room, and you both feel like kids again. he hovers over you when he kisses you, but you're still mad at him, and to show him how mad you are, you kiss him back. it's no use, you two are going to different colleges, you'll hardly see him, but he swears he'll call. he swears he'll fly to see you. he swears he'll never makes the same mistakes again, because he wants you. and only you. you kiss his cheek, and say okay.

and he does. he does everything he promises you. but the distance is too hard, and he was a little too late. you break up with him over a twenty-one character text sent while you're drunk at a house party your second semester at university, and he just doesn't understand. he'll never understand. and he never sees you again.

until you're both thirty-two, standing in line at the grocery store. he taps your shoulder, you turn around, you wonder if it's a stranger who wants a favor, and you realize he's so much more than that. he's the little boy that kissed your cheek underneath the slide when you were five. your first kiss. except it wasn't, was it? his face is long, and his cheeks have lost plush, but he looks so handsome it makes your heart skip a beat. you two are pleasant, exchanging it's been so long! and you look great! but when his eyes catch the twinkle of the wedding ring on your finger, his smile drops ever so slightly, and when he scratches his cheek to hide the sadness, you notice a band on his finger too. and he pays for your groceries, just to be kind. and you thank him for it, just to be kind. and you go your separate ways, never to speak again. but there's a box that still sits somewhere in your closet. and a similar one still sits in his too.

#sorry idk why tf this got sad all of a sudden #this was just supposed to be fluffy #lfmaooo??#help #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo x reader fluff #gojo x reader angst #gojo fluff #gojo angst #jujutsu kaisen #so heavily inspired by many ts songs w this one loool

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neoplatinum · 1 month

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we can't be friends - ariana grande | minatozaki sana

summary: the earth only has one moon, are you really the moon to sana's earth?

pairing: childhood-friend!sana x fem!reader

themes: extremely angsty, best friends to ?? to ??, internalized homophobia, gender dysphoria, sana's not too great of a friend, reader is a pushover until she isn't, implied sex, original male character, [----] x reader

wc: 3.2k

(side b: north and south poles | minatozaki sana)

from what you've learned in school, at the very early age of kindergarten is that the earth only has one moon, only one. mars has two moons: phobos and deimos.

when you were kids, you were called deimos, sana was called mars, and fuji was called phobos. it was always you three together, running through the streets of the countryside of japan.

causing so much trouble for your administrators, running around yelling down the halls of your school, the terrible trio of class 2-A. leaving school was always fun too, running around for snacks and jumping at the sight of cats.

you and sana were always closer, whenever fuji had to go home early because of his strict extracurriculars, you spent time with sana. walking by the train tracks, looking for lost coins for the vending machine or even staying for dinner with sana’s parents. it felt like it was you three taking on the small town.

until it didn’t. when middle school rolled around, you were excited to see them two after a couple of weeks of summer. each of you was busy with other things in life, making it hard to meet each other. so on the first day of school, you strolled in, ready to take on the new school year with sana and fuji by your side, when you noticed they weren’t talking much to each other.

fuji found basketball friends in his group, clinging to them like they were his new lifeline. sana has gotten close to the popular girls, they were nice but very superficial, all having drama with each other but in front of the group, they all faked smiles for each other.

you found yourself in between two different worlds, you tried calling to them after school, but they both dismissed you saying they had extracurriculars. fuji had gone off to play with his friends during basketball practice, while sana participated in school government association.

you got tricked into becoming treasurer for the sga that very year, so it was nice to still be around sana. although you could feel her distance.

it isn’t until one spring afternoon, you feel your first ever heartbreak. sana rushes into the sga room while you were napping on a desk.

she taps your shoulder excitedly, “wake up!”

you rub your eyes and focus on sana, who’s shoving a letter in your hand. you read the first line and yeah, your heart is crushed.

“fuji confessed to me!” she shouts excitedly, doing a little dance by herself as you read the lines.

“oh, congrats.” you hand the letter back to her, she looks at you a bit puzzled by your simple reaction.

“he asked me out! im so excited.” she explains, going into detail about their supposed first date. “he might kiss me, what do you think?”

“if you want to kiss him, then kiss him.”

she rolls her eyes at that, of course she knows that. that’s not what she’s implying.

“what i mean is, i’ve never had my first kiss! i don’t know what to do.” she goes on, thinking about it seriously. “what if he kisses me, and i suck and he doesn’t want to kiss me.”

“sana, if he thinks you being a bad first kisser is a deal breaker then dump him.”

you explain, placing your head back on your arms.

“you have to help me!”

“help?”

“kiss me, pretend you’re fuji.”

“no way sana.”

“why? too much of a chicken to kiss me?”

“no im not!”

"bawk bawk bawk" sana mocks you. making flapping arm motions to imitate a chicken.

“fine!” you hold yourself together (as much as you can) and place your lips gently against sana, pulling her in by the neck. caressing her cheek before letting her go. her eyes are dazed.

“wow yeah, that was good.” she fiddles with her school skirt, “i wish you were a boy, you’d make a girl very happy kissing her like that.” she blushes and leaves you alone, you feel that jagged break in your heart tear a little longer.

your tears don't stop as you try and go back to taking a nap, feeling your breathing getting heavy and you stay the rest of the afternoon, crying about not being born a guy for sana.

that was the last time you really talked to sana, too hurt that you cut your hair short the next day in the bathroom sink. crying tears into the porcelain bowl, with tears filling around your choppy hair. when you finally stop, you try liking the idea of it being short like a boys. but sana doesn’t spare you a glance. suddenly the hair feels too choppy and the air that you didn't feel when your hair was long starts to bother you.

it doesn't bother you for long, once your hair grows back. it feels right, like you were meant to look this pretty and feminine. you stay away from both sana and fuji as much as you can.

until one day sana knocks rapidly at your door, you haven't had her over in years. high school created even more distance between you two, you found your own people to be around. people that never overlapped with sana and fuji.

until you see sana staring at you from across the door, eyes still sparkling as they always have, in that charming look. and the longer face, the warm smile and comforting scent of flowers. as much she is the sana you remember, you don't think she's the same sana you once knew.

"hi."

"hi sana, are you okay?" you let her in. and it's like you're transported back to when you were thirteen, letting sana come over whenever she needed to complain about fuji and his "boy" tendencies. now that you're both 18 and ready to set off into the real world, you feel a little strange having sana visit.

"yeah, i need your help." she starts, dropping her bag onto the floor. you feel your heart rate spike a bit, was sana in trouble?

"help with what?" you offer her a bottle of her favorite drink, royal milk tea.

"you remembered." she says softly, grabbing it and downing it in a few quick seconds, a sign she's nervous and with the tapping of her foot. you're feeling anxious just at the sight. "fuji asked to have sex."

you nearly spit out your own water, "what?" your eyes are wide and you stare at sana as she keeps her eyes away from you.

"i need your help."

"did he do something sana? i'll kill him myself." you get up.

"no, none of that. i want to, have sex i mean. i just can't with him first."

"why not?"

"well, i...i want my first time to not be him. i just know it in my heart."

"okay. so how am i supposed to help you?"

"be my first."

"sana! you can't ask that of me."

"why not? we're best friends, of course we can."

"sana no, you love fuji, he should be your first if you love him. you're dating him too, that would be cheating."

"i dont, i dont think, i just." she shakes her head. "it can't be with him first." she ends it softly, hands in her lap. looking like she's been scolded. you feel the guilt bubbling up in your stomach; here she was being vulnerable, and you just accused her of being a cheater.

"what's really going on?" you ask, she's not making sense anymore.

"i need you to be my first, i want you to be. it can't be anyone else." sana is firm. standing up and taking your hands in hers. with her eyes looking into yours like that, like she knows how much you love and adore her. you can't find yourself to say no, even if it betrays fuji.

"okay."

"yeah?" her eyes light up.

"yeah." you pull sana upstairs, and begging her to forget about fuji, just for one night. to only focus on you and to pull out those pretty sounds of sana uttering your name into the night.

you don't stop until you feel sana against you, like it's where she belongs, right in your arms.

when sana leaves in the morning, you feel that gash that you've been trying so hard to heal get ripped apart again. she thanks you like you're someone who was there to provide a service to her, like that's the only purpose you served her that night.

as if you didn't pour your heart out as you kissed down her torso, cherishing her body like the gods sculpted it. as if she isn't the only woman in the world, you begin to think maybe that's what you were made for. someone to exist for sana, and never with her.

this hurtful thought bumps around your brain, hitting every surface of it, you feel your heart break into two. like you're led on a leash by sana, without her letting you ever leave.

it becomes a habit, a habit you can't break. you circling between the sana and fuji whenever it was the holidays or birthday parties. each year you feel more and more of your soul slip away. you can't begin to tell where your identity begins and ends without sana.

doesn't help that fuji is a good man for sana. always considerate and careful, giving her the space and time she needs when she's overwhelmed. you think sana chose well, a good man in her life that'll never waver his loyalty for her.

but it leaves you in disarray, sana contacting you for her relationship problems. leaving fuji all alone as she calls you to escape. weeks spent away from fuji, where you two meet hidden away from the world. a hidden place filled with drunk kisses and hookups, ones you would never utter to fuji.

you being invited at her parties, seeing his arms draped around her like you weren't caressing them just days ago. it's all too much, you don't know if you can be friends with her. ever again.

until she marries fuji, she hands you their invitation card herself. how dare she? after years of being a secret she hands you a knife for you to stab into your heart, and she does it with a smile. explaining how happy she is to have the wedding of her dreams, while you feel the woman of your dreams slip right through your fingers.

but then the reality hits, she was never yours to begin with, you two are simply friends. just best friends that know each other's bodies too well.

you play your part well, giving a dedicated speech to them two. reminiscing of the early days of you as a trio. days of mischief, talking about learning of their feelings for each other, making jokes about how they were polar opposites, destined to find each other magnetically. you leave out the part where you think you would fit well with sana even if you aren't the opposing magnet.

you try and stay away from her as much as you can after the wedding, to save your own heart (as much there is left). blocking her number and taking time away from japan. going overseas to travel, and it works out well, you meet a woman named momo, you don't mention the woman to sana. you don't hear from sana and you feel your heart calm a bit, like it's finally able to take a break.

when you return to japan, you find her at your doorsteps, fallen asleep at your door. she wakes up to the sight of you and hugs you immediately, complaining about how worried she was that you disappeared. you don't mention how you blocked her number. letting sana into your apartment and she drops the biggest news on you that you could ever expect: shes pregnant.

"congratulations sana!" you fake a smile and she goes on to explain that it's going to be a little girl. and she's so excited to dress her up and have a daughter.

you feel like you're hearing static noise as she goes on, sitting on your couch talking animatedly about the new nursery and all the books she's been reading about motherhood. it isn't until she finally steps away to go home that you realize that you never said more than congratulations.

months later, she births the beautiful baby girl. you wait outside the room, a balloon in one hand and a pack of diapers in the other. the nerves of having to see sana after so long made you vomit in the hospital bathroom just ten minutes ago. you try to focus on anything else, the sterile walls, the smell of sanitizer, the sounds of nurses chatting. then you see fuji step outside, looking like a tired first-time father.

"congratulations fuji!" you say as you pass him the diapers. he laughs at the sight and thanks you before saying he's going outside to get some food and that sana is awake.

you step into the hospital room and hear the rhythmic heart monitor and low beeps of machines. there sana is, exhausted as ever but happily babbling to her baby. you can see the little baby in the swaddle. you walk up to the bedside.

"hi sana, congratulations on your new baby." you tie the balloon to her bed, and she smiles at you, tired but always warm. "she's beautiful, sana." you wash your hands and poke at her cheek.

"isn't she? i think it's too early to say, but she might have my eyes." you look back down and see the baby, eyes closed in bliss. you think they look like sana's too. ones that you used to look at as kids.

"i want to name her after you." she starts, gently caressing her head. you stop, leaning back quickly.

“dont do that sana, don’t give it the same curse you gave me.” you bite out. sana stops caressing the baby's face to look at you. “forced to love someone who will never love them back.”

"what are you talking about?" sana says gently, you've never raised your voice at her in all the years you've known each other.

"sana, you can't give her my name. i forbid you to." you say sternly; after how much she destroyed you, you're not letting her name her daughter that.

"but, why?" she's still perplexed, eyes wide.

"it's not right." you look away from sana, years of pain resurfacing just at the idea. "you really hurt me, i don't want you to name your daughter after me."

she doesn't press you on the matter anymore, anxious eyes darting all over the room, trying to find an escape from this conversation.

"what about being her godmother?"

"i'm moving away sana."

it's like the final nail in the coffin, both phrases being said at the same time. you realize there's no other way to say it, not over text or a call. it's better to say it here, ripping off the bandaid completely.

"moving? where are you moving?" you can hear the heartbeat machine beeping faster, and you see her heart rate climbing steadily.

"korea, i got a job over there." you say dismissively.

"oh wow, when do you move?" sana's voice is timid as she tries to hold back tears at the idea.

"i leave in a week." you say, picking your stuff up getting ready to leave. "congratulations again sana, your baby is beautiful and healthy. tell fuji that he'll be a good father, i know it." and with that you step to leave, and just as you turn the knob you can hear it, the sound of sana crying.

you try not to cry yourself, but you can't stay here. orbiting around two people who are building their life together. you weren't supposed to be here to begin with. earth never had two moons. you nearly bump into fuji when he opens the door.

"oh fuji, i'm sorry i couldn't stay long." you offer when you see him outside, food in hand and excited to talk to you, he smiles sadly. giving you a hug as you walk outside.

feeling like for once you control your own life, your love is yours, and no longer sana's.

"stay a while longer, sana is so excited to see you!" he says, trying to urge you to come back inside.

"it's okay, we'll see each other around." you turn to look back at sana, and she stares right into you with tears running down her face and glaring at you. you just told your final lie to sana, closing the door behind them, like you closed your relationship with sana.

you don't see sana for years; it's strange. growing up with so much hurt and pain made it difficult to enjoy your romantic relationships, but you realize there is always a person for you, yours being hirai momo, not sana minatozaki.

here at incheon international airport, you stretch from your seat, needing to get some movement in before you sit in that cramped airplane seat for hours. so you make a beeline to the bathroom, walking directly into a young girl.

she falls backwards, nearly hitting her head on the floor, but you catch her in time.

"hi sweetie you okay?" you pat her down, pulling her shirt down. she nods at you and you see her eyes, and you feel your memories shift back to when you were five years old, meeting that girl that sat near you in class 2-A. she runs towards someone.

you stand up and recognize those eyes immediately, sana minatozaki in the flesh after five years. eyes wide as she stares at you. fuji right by her side.

you can see the recognition in sana's eyes. you walk right up to them, offering the couple a hug. sana's arms grip onto you so tightly you feel your ribs in her hold. then you feel a tug at your pant leg.

you turn around and smile at the girl by your leg.

"say hi hana, this is sana and fuji." your little girl waves to them hi, while sana is still staring at you. fuji starts congratulating you, excited to see that you have a daughter. you let out a laugh. then you feel a pat on your back, with momo walking up to kiss you.

then you let your daughter down to play with sana's daughter. eyes fond at the two little girls chasing after each other.

“it’s been a while.” sana's voice cuts into your thinking.

“yeah, i guess it has.” you reply, finally looking at her after so long. sana gulps, willing the tears away.

"honey, you’re crying.” fuji says wiping away sana's tear, you smile at that. he's good for her.

“oh i didn't notice.” sana laughs, rapidly wiping her tears away.

you let the three of them talk, momo joining in and introducing herself. you're left feeling a bit better about your decision to leave sana's side all those years ago. waiting for her to love you back would've costed your relationship with momo, especially since you would have never had hana.

it's important to know when being friends turns into we can't be friends anymore.

a/n: hehehehehe, angst is so fun to write, that's probably why it's everywhere in my writing. thank you to the anon who requested this! i wrote this in like 6hrs. stay safe and stay healthy everyone!

#sana x reader #twice sana #sana twice #minatozaki sana #sana minatozaki #twice x you #twice x reader #twice #kpop imagines #neoplatinum

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blingblong55 · 22 days

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This town -Simon "Ghost" Riley

pic credits: @ave661 (middle and right)

Based on a request: (Its a long as so I'll link it so you can read the anons idea) Link here ---- F!Reader, childhood!friends, hidden feelings, angst, friends to strangers ---- A/N: Songs that also fit: Too Young- Louis Tomlinson, This Town- Niall Horan, Back to the Old House- The Smiths, Always you-Louis Tomlinson

It's a story to tell over at the old pub you and he used to hang around on the weekends. But how can a man begin to tell the sorrowful story? How can he explain in his bruised hands he holds the locket you gave him when you two were kids? He will maybe ask if this was a curse, the only curse an old soul like his has.

It could've been something, it would've been something, it should've been beautiful.

In this world, it was always he and you. Scraping your knees when jumping off the rocks near his home. Playing tag in the street until the moon greeted you and his mother would call his name. It's the kind of beginning all beautiful loves start with. Friends since childhood, went through life together and by 28, he would have proposed to the girl he had loved his whole life, 40s would be of dropping the kids at school, 50s of early retirement and 60s were for the potential grandkids, 70s would've been the stories shared of their early lives.

Would've...what a shit word that became in his life.

In the teenage years, after you had some glow-up, you became the girl everyone knew. The pretty, popular and funny girl the school knew of. He was the friend of the popular girl, the one people barely noticed or cared for. Simon was the same kid who always had a scar or bruise on his face, compliments from his father. One thing Simon hated more than the bastard of his father was the guy you were with. Bloke knows nothing but how to wank and fuck any living thing, he recalls.

Why were you with such a guy? It was a must. Like those cheesy movies where the pretty girl stays with the popular guy, all for the status of each other. Your feelings weren't real for that guy. He wasn't funny, wasn't smart and he wasn't Simon. The boy you shared a kiss with at age 7 because of an accidental bump whilst running through the grass.

It was during a small break between classes that you found him drinking water. You smile. He always did look good, even the stupid bruise on his jaw made him look so good.

"Y/N," he straightens up. "Simon," you smile cheekily. "Oh no, what's that smile for?" He crosses his arms over his chest and you can't help but get lost in his honey eyes. "Well...I was wondering if maybe we can...talk?" You say, unsure of how to word this confession. "Did my mum put you up to this?"

"No, this is...me just wanting to talk."

"Go on," his voice softens. Does he always do this for you?

You hesitate, but what is life without words? You breathe in and say, "I like you...there I said it and... don't stay quiet because you know I get nervous and I will continue to just talk and talk and talk and-"

He cuts you off by saying, "I'm sorry, Y/N, I... don't..think..this..well I just don't feel that way for you. We're friends, nothing more," he ends his part of the conversation, pats your back as he walks away and you are left in the corridor of the school alone.

As Simon walks to his classroom, his heart and mind fight the words that he had just said to you. Why was that mean? Did I even mean to say them? He thinks.

Graduation happens. You and he never talked after that day. Not even a congrats or a hug, life went on without him in your life. Throughout those last months in school, he felt a feeling of regret when he'd see you with that guys arm around you. He would occasionally walk around the old park just to see if you would still go on your daily walks.

By the time he was about to leave town, he found himself at the old house. He heard your parents moved to a new part of town, so if this was the last time he heard of you, it better be on his terms. And as he walks through the pavement, he finds himself looking at your window. He leans over a car, lights a cigarette and just waits to see if maybe you or some ghost roamed the home.

Was it the feeling of losing a friend that hurt or losing his one chance to feel something other than pain and hatred? Maybe it's just nervous, after all, he leaves tomorrow.

You were both just 16, it was puppy love, nothing would've lasted if he reciprocated those feelings, right?

And if it was, why does he feel some kind of hurt as he packs his bags? Why does he want to run to your new home and call your name? Is there a reason why? It's not love, it can't be love, he thinks. I'm not worthy of that, you've heard my dad, he says out loud. "Simon?" Tommy opens the door. "Tommy, not today," he looks back at his bag. "...Fuck" he whispers.

It's been a long nineteen years since he last saw you and heard your precious voice laugh at a cheesy joke of his. Nineteen years and the feeling in his chest is still there when he arrives home. Manchester was always home for him, it was the only place he knew best when he came back.

One day, as he was cleaning his closet, looking for his dog's leash, something fell and hit his head. "What the fu-" he looked down and there it was.

"Why give me this?" A thirteen-year-old Simon asked you. You smile, "You said you wish you could always be near me so you can feel safe...and since I'm going to my nans for the week, have this locket on you, and I swear I'll be there. Keep it safe, okay?" you kiss his forehead before entering the car. He nods and waves, "Call me, Y/N, please!" he calls out and you nod. "Every day!" you scream out as the car drives further away.

A smile falls on his silent lips, "...Y/N..." his thumb caresses the design. Once he opens it, he feels as if he is that young again. "Are you still there, Y/N?" He whispers and then, realisation hits. It was never nerves or whatever bullshit he told himself back then, it was love, always has.

All the dots are connecting. For the past nineteen years, he always had some love or whatever all those hookups and awful relationships were, but never did they stick around. Never did he feel more for them than what he has always felt for you. His cold heart still beating warm when he thinks of you. You are all he has ever known, the smiles, the late-night confessions, stories, the silly inside jokes, the feeling in his chest today.

He hasn't seen you in years, what if you don't remember him? What if when you see him, your heart doesn't call his name when he screams yours? Will you ever even forgive him? Will you wrap your arms around him and call him home like he has called you?

He must find you, so he calls and looks for you in every corner of this place. He finds nothing, just more lost hope at every corner he looks into. His heart and mind excited each other at the thought this would be some sappy romance moment. His mind creating a script, all truths, just finding better words to tell you he loves you, loved you the moment you kissed the similar scar on the knee at the park when he cried over the pain. He's loved you from the day he learned to say your name.

Why does he miss you so much today?

Why must you be the drug his body needs? God does he miss you and your addictive heart.

He has been around the world, where he could've found a good woman who made him happy but no, his heart has always belonged to one girl. You.

By the time he gets the street right, he finds you sitting down and as he smiles and nearly runs to you, he stops when he sees this image of you.

Sitting by the fountain, he sees you and a man. His arms wrap around your body, giving you darling kisses as you chuckle. It was then that Simon Riley knew this was it. He will spend his entire life wandering earth, looking for another soul like yours. You didn't see him of course, your fiance capturing all your attention. Simon was close to not caring and pulling you away from that man, but that would be cruel. And as he tries to make up excuses for this man being near you, he sees the ring.

Oh...oh you fool, he thinks.

His heart is near death. It screams your name, trying to find you so it can keep beating but when you don't whisper, Simon nods and lets his heart die. Let it rot, so it can learn its lesson, he thinks.

It would've never bloomed, Simon and you...right?

It's no use to even go and say hi. The locket that contained your picture was still in his fist. It'll be the last reminder of what was meant to be a life romancing in dark streets through town.

In his head, the home you dreamed of will forever be just a dream. No four kids, no library, no big kitchen so you and he can dance around at midnight. No you...no him...it'll all be stuck and dead in this town.

He crossed rivers, mountains, and enemies and survived wounds soldiers like him get, all to come home to you. And all this was for nothing. In his world, he would've married you, given you chubby babies and late Saturday mornings. No gun, no bomb and no other man would've kept him away from you.

In his mind, he is with you. In his dead heart, he sits by and watches that chubby baby learn to walk. He would've adored seeing you in a white dress, walking to him as he wiped tears away when he d his dream of a perfect life was minutes away from being real.

What a mess he is as he asks for another drink. A mess he never should have been if he had told you that your name is carved all over his body.

It was this town that saw him live and it'll be this town that sees him die because if he can't have you, at least he has this place.

A/N: Remember, I collect tears for potions, so please drop them by for collection, thank you. - The place of tears co.

Tags: @liyanahelena @mangowafflesss @goldenmclaren @ghostslillady @moonsua1 @rvivienner @Krinoid24 @iruzias @frazie99 @idklols @saoirse06 @vampsquerade @Juneonhoth @tiredmetalenthusiast @jinxxangel13 @enarien @Simonssweetgirl @luvecarson @willowaftxn83-87 @ikohniik @nobodys-coffee @strawberrychita @sae1kie @queen-ilmaree @pbcartii @Llelannie @Macnches2 @bbyfimmie @avidreadee123 @talooolaaloolla @skelletonwitch @bittermajesties @Nyx_Flower @honestlyhiswife @who-can-appease-me @ghostwifeyy @konigssultwithghost @kaoyamamegami @beansproutmafia @soapybutt17 @asianbutnotjapanese @a-goose-with-a-knife @foxface013 @sleepyycatt @believeinthefireflies95

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riki-shenanigans · 4 months

Text

lost school ID 🪪

西村 nishimura riki 🐥🐆

he looks so school boy in this photo woah ?!?

〜

genre: teenage angst 🚸, classmates to friends (crushes? ㅠㅠ)

wc: around 1.7k (not my intention 🥹)

warnings: teenage immaturity & swearing, all lowercase

synopsis: riki lends you his school id for school lunch since you forgot yours c;

characters: y/n, riki, kazuha, heeseung, leeseo

〜

my first fic ^_−☆ lmk how you like it! 🩵

you and kazuha are standing in the school lunch line talking about the interesting wall posters you’ve seen around the school the past week.

“I saw a poster of the principal with a snapchat filter near the vending machine this morning” you snicker.

“nah I saw an even funnier one,” kazuha starts, “yesterday I saw a list of funny hoco proposal lines in the boys locker room!” she laughs.

“why were you in the boys locker room?” you hear a laughing voice say.

you glance away from kazuha to see a grinning heeseung and his tall friend group next to you guys.

“oh! bambi boy wants to know what I was doing yesterday?” kazuha turns around facing heeseung with a smirk on her face, taunting him.

heeseung places his arm on the wall behind her, shortening the distance between their faces. kazuha’s eyes widens and stares into his silent, curious brown eyes, taken aback by his actions.

heeseung then turns swiftly on his heels and faces the front of the line, cutting me and kazuha while suppressing a laugh.

then the rest of his friend group shoves next to him, creating a huge social circle in the middle of the lunch line.

only one of his friends stays outside the line, riki.

I notice him looking at us, but I don’t think anything of it. it’s not like he didn’t cut us because he’s some saint, that whole popular guy group is full of bitch-ass boys with insufferable senses of humor. he just refuses to eat school food anymore because it’s ‘nasty shit,’ and he got food poisoning from last week’s suspicious steak cubes.

his blank gaze stays on me, not moving for a second, making me feel a bit uncomfortable and confused, a pink tinge appearing on my cheeks. I look behind me and see that leeseo is standing there, laughing with her other popular friends, looking gorgeous as always.

“oh.” I think, making my stomach drop a little and I return to look at kazuha.

“who does that boy think he is? he’s always messing with me, i’m gonna fucking slap him next time he does that!” kazuha rants.

“that entire group,” I state sourly, rolling my eyes.

a few minutes later, it was just the group of boys in front of us ordering lunch. of course, they were being obnoxiously loud, cackling and spewing dumb jokes. I peer past kazuha’s shoulder and see heeseung carrying a heap of cookies, struggling to scan his school ID. kazuha lends a hand, bringing the barcode of his ID up to the scanner, making a quick beep sound.

“you have $112.50 remaining in your school account,” the lunch lady says.

heeseung flashes a smile at us and clicks his tongue, scurrying away with his treats while catching up with his friends.

kazuha rolls her eyes and scans her ID.

that’s when I realized that I don’t have mine.

“oh shit.. I don’t have my ID zuha” I look at her nervously.

“omg y/n!” she exclaims, “where did you leave it??” she questions sternly.

“I don’t know!!” I say upsettingly.

“here” a deep voice blurts, cutting our banter, making me flinch a little.

I see a firm hand reaching out to me, holding an ID.

I look at the school picture on it, instantly recognizing the cartilage piercing and the firmly pressed together puffy pink lips.

I look up to see riki’s extremely tall figure, one of which I never considered until this moment, standing extremely close to me.

“well?” he spoke, raising an eyebrow after a few moments passed.

I wanted to believe that he was offering a kind gesture, but I couldn’t let a guy like him fool me that easily.

“well what..?” I question meekly, seeing him narrow his eyes.

“i’m letting you use my ID stupid,” he muttered, putting his ID against the scanner with another quick beep.

“oh..-“ I say, turning to thank him, only to see that he had disappeared.

“sorry I was spitting out my gum, wait did you get a lunch?” kazuha says, walking back towards me from the large trash cans.

“yea..” I murmur while walking to our usual lunch spot, with riki’s ID in hand.

soon, we sit down on the cold hard cafeteria benches, immediately feasting on our less-than-healthy chicken tenders.

“so how’d you get a lunch anyways? I thought you forgot your ID somewhere,” kazuha questions while opening her chocolate milk carton.

“someone lent me their ID,” I shrug, trying not to bring much attention to the subject.

“leeseo’s so nice and pretty,” kazuha states while poking at her veggies, assuming leeseo was the person who had lent me their ID.

“she always manages to look well put together,” I add on, pushing down the jealousy slowly sprouting in my mind.

a little bit later 〜

“shit! I’m supposed to be at tutoring right now!” kazuha gasps, shooting up from her seat and quickly gathering her stuff.

“oh-“

“i’ll see you in fourth period y/n!!” she shouts, running off and throwing away her tray.

I glance down, looking at my phone.

“12:15”

I sigh, gathering my stuff to head to the main hall for the second half of lunch.

while stuffing my hoodie into my backpack, riki’s ID flings out onto the table.

“bruh I have to give this back to him,” I groan to myself with a hint of nervousness.

swinging my backpack around my shoulder, I start heading over to the “popular kids area,” near the soccer field.

“I don’t know if I wanna go up to that many people just to give his ID back..” I think to myself, feeling like backing out.

“no, that’s stupid. what type of pussy am I if I can’t give his stupid ID back?” I debate with myself, mustering up the courage to go up to the red tables.

however I stop in my tracks when I see leeseo and her friends sit down at riki’s table.

“ugh..” I breathe, “i’m gonna embarrass myself.”

I get a familiar pit in my stomach and want to get out of this area immediately, but heeseung catches me staring their way before I can.

he elbows riki on his side and raises his hand, waving at me and calling me over.

I scoff again, wanting to ignore his annoying antics, but I reconsider when I see riki’s piercing dark eyes rise from the papers on the table in front of him to meet mine.

I slowly start walking towards their table with caution, fiddling with riki’s ID.

I see heeseung smiling positively, and riki putting his focus back on his work, and leeseo glancing at me confusedly.

“hey where’s kazuha?” heeseung asks excitedly.

“um she's-“

“I wanna ask her something,” he states, smiling even bigger.

“ayeee ask her what?”

“heeseung tryna shoot his shot?”

the table starts a commotion, teasing heeseung and questioning him.

everyone but riki, who is still focused on his paper, with furrowed eyebrows and those same narrowed eyes from earlier.

I move from heeseung’s view and walk over to riki’s side.

“struggling on the algebra homework?” I chuckle, teasing him because everyone else finished it during the end of last class.

“haha yeah. it sucks ass,” he laughs dryly, continuing to struggle, not lifting his head up once.

trying to relieve the awkwardness, I say, “by the way, thanks for letting me use your id,” placing the neatly wrapped up lanyard next to his hand, making leeseo look over at us.

before I can remove my hand, he places his larger yet comforting hand over mine, turning over to me.

“are you l/n y/n?” he asks, surprising me.

I stay quiet, shocked at his random question, and at the fact that he weirdly knows my full name.

“I found your ID in the vending machines this morning,” he states, pulling out a scratched up card from his pocket, extending his hand towards my face.

he squints one eye and looks back and forth between the school photo on the ID and my face, making my heart race.

“I couldn’t tell if it was you earlier..” he starts while getting up from his seat, bringing his face close to mine.

again, his same tall figure is hovering over me, except this time he’s carefully looking at my face. I gulp, staring back into his focused eyes, trying not to break eye contact.

“but I can tell it’s you now,” he softly smiles, giving me my ID with a subtle (super) cute look on his face.

“thanks,” I state softly, still surprised at what just happened. “damn his smile..” I think to myself.

my heart is racing faster than before, and I freeze, not knowing what to do from there, just examining riki’s perfect features, taking note of his moles, feeling his light breaths fan over my face as he doesn’t take his hand off mine.

that’s before leeseo interrupts my daydreaming.

“aww that’s so nice of you riki!” she stated as if she was announcing it to everyone outside.

me and riki immediately drop our hands and turns to look at her.

feeling slightly embarrassed now that it felt like everyone was looking at me, I moved my eyes down to look at the ID in my hands, avoiding anyone else’s eyes.

“shut up leeseo” riki utters, sitting back down in his seat, his usual harsh demeanor returning.

surprised by riki’s reaction, she looks back at me with a judging look.

“don't lose your ID again!” she mocks, giving a small wave as she continues the conversation to whatever it was before.

her smile that I was envious of just a bit ago starts to burn itself into my brain and twists my stomach.

I scoff lightly under my breath, backing up and turning around to find kazuha inside the school building.

“see you around y/n,” riki turns in his seat and says, giving a small smile to me.

I give the same smile back, feeling some butterflies starting to form as I continue walking back inside.

〜

THANK U SM FOR READING I LOVE U ☹️💞

TMI!! im ngl.. I had a dream of this happening with a guy at my school 💀 as soon as I woke up that morning, I wrote the idea in my notes app LOL

I hope you enjoyed! :)

merry late christmas ☃️🎄 💗

#nishimura riki #ni ki #niki #enhypen #enhypen niki #niki x reader #riki shenanigans #SoundCloud

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religion-is-a-mental-illness · 6 months

Text

Editor’s note: This hypothetically open letter was originally posted by its anonymous author on Medium and was rapidly removed as “hate speech.” We found it to be a refreshing dose of honesty, a charming and relatable open letter from one parent to other parents (not to the child, obviously!) about dealing with a challenging and dangerous moment in raising children, especially “weird” adolescents who search for their identities harder than others and risk making life-damaging mistakes in a way never before possible. We are reposting it here on New Discourses with the permission of the author.

By: Donna M.

Published: Mar 5, 2021

My dear, sweet, son,

I’ve got to break it to you: you’re not trans, you’re just weird.

This seems like a cruel thing to point out right now. Clearly, you are struggling and feeling pretty awful about things. I can see that you are in a rough patch, and one of the first rules of parenting is to not pile on. The world is pretty heavy on your shoulders. You’re fifteen. There’s a pandemic going on. But here I come anyway. I’m about to throw more on you.

When you were two – a happy, chubby, little tyke in pull-ups, you watched the world with wary eyes behind the thumb in your mouth. You leapt with joy in the rhythm of the toddle music classes. You chattered and shared stories about your stuffed animals. You loved your little sister. Enjoyed cookies and finger painting. That was all pretty normal.

But you also started to count to one thousand on our walks. And you started to call out the store names as we drove around. And you preferred reading books rather than playing with the other two-year-olds at preschool. And you hated sitting in the circle when instructed. And you hated the feel of blue jeans. And you threw big tantrums when you lost any kind of game. In other words, you started to show signs that you were… weird.

The grandparents were the first to notice. They said gentle things like “You oughta keep an eye on that one,” and sent us links to Wall Street Journal articles about child prodigies. And then the other parents in the play groups started to comment; “He’s pretty intense, huh?” And the teachers were on to it pretty quickly. They started to use fancy terms like “asynchronous development.”

By third grade, we realized you were different, but we still didn’t realize you were weird. Truthfully, we’re used to people like you. Our family is full of engineers, artists, musicians, computer programmers, and a lot of “free-thinkers.” Family gatherings always have chess, political debates, and quartets around the piano. That’s just us.

And besides, you had a small but solid group of friends. There was Pokémon, then Minecraft, then Magic, then Dungeons and Dragons, then Catan. You were never in the center of things, but you weren’t alone.

But then, in middle school, things started to change. By 7th grade, school finally started to require some effort, and it turned out you were pretty disorganized. People kept calling you smart, but the teachers were annoyed at your humor, and frustrated that you wouldn’t or couldn’t follow the guidelines for assignments. Classmates didn’t appreciate your frank (if accurate) descriptions of their efforts. I’ll admit, we got pretty frustrated with you, too.

And then puberty arrived, with its triple curse of acne, braces, and bizarre growth. The girls appeared to have it all together (I know they don’t, but they do appear that way). And the popular boys seemed to know exactly what to do. They can talk sports to each other, they brag about their romantic exploits. They never get in trouble for stupid reasons like forgetting an assignment three times in a row. Your anxiety started to kick in, and it seemed like you got smaller. And some of your guy friends moved on.

So you drifted over to the weird-o crowd. Well — I’m not sure what you call yourselves, but that’s what we would have called you back when I was in school. At different schools these are the geeks, or the theater kids, the math team kids, or the artsy-fartsy kids. This used to be where the gay kids ended up, but I think they’re more dispersed now. You get some kids whose parents are going through some rough times. Some girls with anorexia. A few boys who are edgy and angry. Kids with a great sense of humor and big hearts.

And some of these kids are really passionate. Just full of righteous anger about the injustices of the world. And some of them are dramatic. And truthfully, that looks pretty attractive to you. Because you share some of that confusion and anger about the world. And though you may not be sure what you think or what you feel, you are certain you don’t want to be on the bad side. You certainly aren’t like those popular boys with their suave charm and dominating manners. You’re not like them at all.

You’re actually more like those vibrant girls who can speak for hours about their ideas. Well, you would be if you could find the words to speak. And there is something so fascinating about those girls, but you can’t quite put your finger on it. You’d never think about talking to those girls anyway, because that’d be weird. Because you are weird. You’ve never been good at chit-chat, or eye contact. Or girls. And besides, you wouldn’t want them to get the wrong impression. You understand that your peers are starting to date, but you really don’t see the point. Sex is still gross and weird to you. It’s better to just call yourself “asexual” or “pansexual.” It’s like a get-out-of-jail-free card that helps you avoid the whole mess. And your group of friends tell you that you are super cool and brave for being able to say that about yourself.

But you’ve fallen into a funk. Anyone can see that. But computer games help. And there’s always trying to beat the speed record for that one game you’re kinda good at. And that one guy on reddit always has good tricks. And the people on that message board seem to get your humor.

So when one of them posts a meme about trans rights, it makes sense that you’d check it out. You’re curious! You’re a free thinker! You’re not like the normies. And the web quiz hits home. You do feel discomfort with your body. You don’t like sports. You do wonder what it would be like to be a girl. You’ve always felt like something was different about you.

You’re right. There is something different about you.

But you’re not trans, you’re just weird.

So we’re right here for you. We’ll always be here for you. But those online folks who urge you to “crack your trans egg” and rush to hormones and surgeries don’t know you at all. They don’t know that gifted kids and ADHD kids and Autism kids and Asperger’s kids are slower to develop emotionally and sexually. They don’t know that sexuality takes time and experience to figure out, and that the majority of trans teens seeking medical treatment haven’t even masturbated or kissed someone yet. They don’t know that 80% of trans children end up becoming comfortable with their birth sex if you just give them time. They don’t know that there are increasing numbers of desisting and de-transitioning people in their twenties. They don’t realize that hormones permanently stunt your growth, decrease your IQ, and can cause sterility. They don’t know that these hormones are prescribed off-label and there’s no research on the long-term outcomes. They don’t even know that the most recent research shows that short-term outcomes are clearly worse.

They don’t realize that you’re weird. But I do. You’re weird, kiddo. You’ll figure that out in a year or two. But that’s okay. We are all weird. And I love you anyway. You’re going to be just fine.

You always hear stories and justifications like, "she never liked wearing a dress," or "he always hated having his hair cut." This is post-hoc confirmation bias. Not only does this confirm everything critics say about this being a movement based on gross stereotypes, but they always leave out things like, "she refused to eat anything yellow," and "he was obsessed with elevator and crossing buttons and would cry if he wasn't the one to light it up."

It's okay to be weird.

#Donna M #gender identity #gender ideology #queer theory #genderwang #trans egg #it's okay to be weird #it's ok to be weird #normalize weird #religion is a mental illness

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blushweddinggowns · 7 months

Note

Would love to see your take on 23 or 28 good potential for fluff or angst or maybe both?

I am such a fluffy bitch! I can't help myself. If I get another one of these I will do angst because I need to work on that. But for now fluffy bullshit is my safe place <3

But I will say this tickled my uh not sfw brain, so watch out for a possible ao3 E addition the other prompt. Maybe! (Probably. the potenial of "Come and get your fix" is insane) But this is "Was it worth it?"

Honestly? You'd think Steve would be used to this by now. He was just not the guy that anyone wanted to be with. First there was Nancy, the worst heartbreak he ever had. Then there was Robin, which was better but still kind of sucked. Until Steve realized that oh, wow, this girl is literally my long lost sister. So with that, he had to admit that he was pretty grateful that she was gay as hell. The alternative would have been an absolute disaster. But even before all of that, girls just didn't like being with him. Or at least staying with him.

He was too much of a hopeless romantic, too clingy, too weird. He always fell beneath expectations. People expected him to be cool, suave, to actually match the whole "King Steve" label and be the high school dream boat that he should be. But...Steve just wasn't like that. He wanted too much too fast, always opening up and sharing shit that made people uncomfortable. That made them pull away and find someone less annoying. So he'd retreat back into the popular boy thing, be charming and a little dickish, find a new girlfriend, and start the process all over again.

People just... didn't like going there with him. Not when there were better options. It felt like the only one who could really handle him was Robin. And lately... Eddie Munson.

Eddie Munson who was currently in the middle of crushing all of his feelings into the dust.

He thought...Steve wasn't sure what he thought. But it felt like over the past year they had been moving somewhere, to something more. They were friends by circumstance, from all the Upside Down shit and then with Steve being Dustin's chauffer to the hospital for visits. It had all been so simple at first. They would all talk as a group, it would be fun, and then they'd be on there way until Dustin called him up next. Until one day Steve just went by himself. He wasn't quite sure why he did, but the bright smile that lit up Eddie's face when he saw him made sure that he'd keep doing it.

And they would talk for a long time. For a stupid amount of time honestly, all the way until the nurses kicked him out for getting Eddie too rowdy and excited. But it didn't stop when he got out of the hospital. Steve just started going to house, helping him and his uncle out as they got to know each other more. It's not like he had anything else going on. He just never expected Eddie Munson of all people to slowly become the center of his life.

They just... clicked. In a way that no one had expected, least of all them. They were so different, but they also weren't. Not in the ways that mattered. Besides, Steve liked all the play fights and debates they would have over music and movies. He liked ribbing each other over their taste in clothes and their mutual inability to get girls. He loved it even more when Eddie came out to him in the silliest possible way.

"I can't get girls because I'm gay as fuck and they can sense it. You can't get girls because every straight woman that lives here is apparently stupid. Can being too hot ruin your dating life?"

At the time it had made Steve laugh. It also stirred... something in his chest. Something warm and nice that he didn't have time to examine, not when he was too busy reassuring Eddie that yes, he's okay with it. But no, girls couldn't smell it on him. Not that Eddie cared but Steve actually had 0 clue on why no one was interested in him. Just because he was gay didn't mean the girls of Hawkins high knew that. Why weren't they fawning over him? He was so freaking pretty, and creative and fun and...and that's how Steve realized he wasn't as straight as he thought he was.

And because Steve was Steve that meant that he had to make things weird. He started doing stupid shit, like staring at Eddie's perfect mouth all the time, wearing his clothes with permission, just to smell him throughout the day. They started giving each other little nick names, stupid shit that was so close to being romantic. Like sunshine and angel. They started sleeping in the same bed together, spending more nights with each other than apart. Steve would wake up with Eddie wrapped around him, clinging to him like...like they were something more.

And it felt good. Comfortable and safe. And Steve really thought that this had been different. That whatever was going on with him had to be going on with Eddie too.

But now here he was, standing shell-shocked in his kitchen while his very good friend was trying to talk to him about his crush. His crush that had nothing to do with Steve. It wasn't exactly shocking that Steve had made all of that flirtation up in his head. It wouldn't be the first time, he was just delusional like that.

But that didn't stop his heart from breaking when Eddie said, "So...there's this guy whose like, insanely hot? And I think he might be into me. But... I don't really know what to do about it."

Steve really did not want to hear about this. He didn't like it, the horrifying thought of Eddie getting a boyfriend. Because what partner would be cool with them cuddling up together in bed? Who would be down to have their boyfriend's creepy buddy hanging around them all the time? Calling them stupid shit like sunshine? It wasn't going to happen. And acknowledging that hurt...so much more than Steve had expected.

But Steve was a good friend. That was probably the only thing he had going for him. He'd get past it. He always did. He was just going to have to completely restructure the life he had built around Eddie. That's all.

He shoved his feelings back, smiling despite the fact that he felt like he was dying a little inside, "Oh yeah? Tell me about him."

Steve wasn't sure why he asked that. And the dreamy smiled on Eddie's face when he started talking wasn't helping, "He is just awesome dude. Total catch, an absolute sweetheart. And he just fits with me y'know? And, um, I think he feels the same way. But I'm not sure. I'm too much of a bitch to even ask if he's into dudes. I don't know if telling him is worth the risk."

Part of Steve wanted to be a real piece of shit with that. To tell him that yeah, it's not a good idea. He's probably straight and definitely wouldn't be good for him. They wouldn't love him like Steve could. But that didn't exactly count as being a good friend, did it?

Steve kept it all back, his smile tight when he said, "I think that sometimes the risk can be worth it. Do you think he's worth it?"

Eddie laughed, like Steve said something funny instead of trying to be sincere. But he was smiling, staring down at the counter as he fiddled with his rings, "If it worked out, it would probably be the best thing that ever happened to me."

Steve really really did not need to hear that. He could feel his eyes getting wet. He needed to wrap this shit up and send Eddie on his way to mystery man's house before he started crying, "If that's how you feel then go for it man. He'd be lucky to have you."

Steve's voice broke on the last word, something he tried to hide behind a cough. He just wanted this to be over already.

"I think I'd be lucky to have him," Eddie said with a shrug, "But... do you really think I should? Just go for it?"

"Yeah dude, why not tonight even? If he's not doing anything else you can just hop right over," Steve was willing to sign up for anything that got him out of here faster.

Eddie laughed again, completely out of place. He was circling the counter, coming to a stop in front of Steve with a nervous little smile, "You really think so?"

Why did he have to look at him like that? With this big doe eyes, filled with hope. It was silly, what Steve thought didn't even matter, this had nothing to do with him. But that little fact wasn't helping to clear the lump in his throat.

Steve nodded, not trusting himself with words. He expected Eddie to grin, thank him, and head out into the night to profess his love for some other dude. But that's not what happened.

Instead Eddie settled his hands on Steve's shoulders, giving them a firm squeeze. He looked nervous, but excited, his eyes boring right into Steve's. He took a deep breath before blurting, "I'm in love with you. Like full-blown. A-And it's probably way to early to be saying that but it's true Steve. It's been driving me fucking insane, because I like want you man. In very non-friendship ways."

Steve stared at him, his mouth hanging open like an idiot. He didn't-wait-huh? What? That can't be right. Eddie couldn't have been talking about him because he didn't-he wasn't-but... now that Steve thought about it, who the fuck else would he be talking about? How would he even have a chance to meet someone else when they were attached at the hip?

He felt so stupid. And so relived. He didn't even know what to do with himself, besides stare at Eddie like a moron. And his silence wasn't helping anything.

"I-um, thought that you might feel the same way since, y'know. Everything. And I know you're not gay-"

It was true, Steve wasn't gay. Not entirely but, "I can be gay for you. I'm so gay for you. I might as well be an Eddie-sexual at this point-"

Steve didn't have time to finish his cringy spiel, not when Eddie was pulling him closer and smashing their mouths together. Steve would thank him later for it, but for now he was too busy melting into his arms.

He felt weirdly good when they finally pulled away, almost like he was high. Just from one little kiss.

Eddie was grinning at him, looking at Steve like he was the best thing that ever happened to him. And what an insane thought that was huh? But Steve would take it.

Steve smiled up at him, taking the time to wrap his arms around Eddie's neck, "So...was it worth it? The risk?"

Eddie rolled his eyes, his hands wandering downward to rest on Steve's hips. And then Eddie was actually lifting him into the air and onto the counter, settling between his legs like the gesture didn't just send Steve into a tailspin. Why was that so hot? When did his nerdy friend (boyfriend?) become so smooth?

Eddie chuckled before leaning back in. He pressed a light kiss to the side of Steve's lips, sweet enough for him to know it would be burned into his memory until the end of time, "Like you have to ask."

#steddie ficlet #steddie #steddie fic #silly steddie #asks #eddie: i love you #Steve: I'm so gay for you bro #Romance comes in all shapes and forms #lol #I will do an angsty one at some point #or maybe just add some angst in general?#im so fluffy #maybe we need some spice #but also im a crybaby so maybe not #a lil late but she's here~#oblivious steve #dumbass boy #he's trying

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wannaeatramyeon · 7 months

Note

Hi first of all I'd like to say that I love your writing style and can't get enough of reading you. Could I make a request for a slightly older Jake Kim? As it's the end of the crews, Allied has won and neither Charles Choi nor Eugene are a threat anymore. Jake is a little bored despite his love for big deal and his friends and/or his mother is urging him to go back to school and he thinks it might be a good idea. At first he's a little scared and unsure, thinking that with his gangster looks and scars, he might scare off the other students, but Jake is Jake and his charisma is incredible. Anyway, he notices this girl who's a foreign student (if she could be French, I'd love you for the rest of my life), quite popular and he just has a crush on her but doesn't dare approach her because she's so popular. Well he watches her as she sit just in front of him and he is just so into her. The 2 of them could get close at a party or an event, maybe he could save her from a molka or a Zeus-like student or something like that too.

Sorry if it is not clear, english isn't my native language.

Besides, if my request doesn't inspire you, feel free to ignore it. I'll keep on reading you because you're incredible.

Anon, this is EXTREMELY clear. Ty for being so kind!! Sorry for the delay and as always, only half hitting the request points. Also French???

Jake Kim x French!Reader: Lecture

Leans F!Reader. Sort of college AU.

Jake sits at the back of the lecture hall.

He always sits at the back. It was his seat before Big Deal, and makes sense that it's his seat after Big Deal too.

Picked in his middle school days as the perfect spot for taking naps and causing trouble. Not that Jake was ever a trouble maker, at least to teachers. He preferred to waste the hours by catching up on his sleep.

So used to being front and centre all his life. Thrust, sometimes willingly, sometimes not, into the centre of attention that it's quite nice to literally take a back seat.

Except. It's out of an awkwardness, discomfort, that he chooses to sit at the back today.

Hidden from most of the other students. Feeling out of place with his thuggish appearance, his scars and his tattoos.

Can't help but be a little self conscious, even if his bias should be grossly outdated.

"This seat taken?" You don't wait for his answer, missing his look of surprise, slamming yourself down on the seat. Hugging your backpack to your body and slouching with relief.

"I got lost," you give a grin that comes out as more of a grimace, and wipe your brow, having worked up a sweat from trying to figure out this labyrinth they call a school.

Jake's eyes follow your fingers running through your hair. Absentmindedly notes how soft and shiny it looks.

You tell him your name, half distracted with setting up your laptop to take notes. He has your full attention when his low, husky timbre introduces himself as Jake Kim.

You also notice he has dimples when he smiles.

He sees you again a couple days later, and you walk towards your lecture together.

Following your lead and taking a seat much closer to the front. Where Jake doesn't need to strain so much to see and hear.

He feels less self conscious today. Maybe that's because you're by his side.

He chooses not to dwell on it. Focusing on whatever the professor is talking about.

Somewhere between the droning voice and the overwarm room, his mind starts to wander. Begins to doodle on his notepad instead of taking notes.

You peek over at his paper, "What is that?"

"Jerry." Jake says it like it's obvious. Like you should know.

"Who?"

"My best friend."

You squint down at the doodle a bit more, "Cute. What breed is he?"

Jake holds back his grin and deadpans, "Human."

"Huh?!"

Jake chuckles. Points out the bald head and the attempt at human anatomy in a hushed voice as you inspect further, peering so close your foreheads are almost touching.

When finally,the image clicks, you burst out laughing, earning shushes from the students around you.

Jake is shy.

All his natural leadership quality completely leaves him when after the lecture, you introduce him to his friends.

A mix of students that grew up overseas. Seems worldly and experienced compared to himself who has barely left Seoul. Having lived a lifetime fighting and running a gang instead.

You introduce everyone. Give him more details about yourself, mention growing up in France.

"Paris?" he ventures, the only place he can recall off the top of his head.

You pull a little face at that. No, the South. Grew up swimming in the Mediterranean Sea.

"Here," you lean in to show him on your phone the town you spent your childhood years.

Leaning in close enough that he can count each of your freckles, if he so chooses. Can pick out the scent of your shampoo

And Jake, for maybe the first time ever, is hit with a fluttering in his stomach.

It's a role reversal.

Everyone seems to know you. You remember the little details about them. Asking how their trip was, how their mom is doing.

You're popular, and Jake feels a little like an outcast. No one has given him a reason to feel that way. Not really, but he couldn't help feeling misplaced. Like a square peg trying to fit into a round hole.

Until you took him under your wing. Making him feel comfortable in this strange environment.

Like many others, his face now brightens when you shine your light on him.

He remembers a little more, a lot more, about himself. Finds ease in his words and his body again.

Charisma and confidence once more rising to the surface. It always does with someone like Jake Kim. It’s embedded in his nature, fundamentally a part of who he is.

Being with you is uncomplicated, easy. Like how everyone always says it should be. He draws smiles and laughter from your lips, feeding on them like a lifestream. Cracking cheesy jokes and puns that make you groan and lightly slap his arm with affection.

Jake thinks you're sweet and kind and all sorts of wonderful. Maybe funnier than he is, which is the greatest compliment he can give.

He's started to count your freckles every chance he gets.

You're doodling on his pad again. He's admiring your lashes.

Long and thick and luscious. But it's the way they frame your eyes, when you peer up at him with a softness, that makes his chest ache.

"I drew us," you whisper, and his eyes follow your pen. Two stick figures. One much taller than the others.

Maybe he's a bit too crazy about you, but he thinks that even these few lines are the essence of you two.

"What are we doing?" he whispers back. Your eyes drop to his lips, tracing the shape of them, the scar, words almost on the tip of your tongue-

Then it dissipates.

You stare back at the drawing and give a shrug.

"Maybe this?" He draws what he hopes you can make out to be a bowl and some chopsticks.

"Food?"

"Sure." Jake musters up all his charm and gives you a grin, hoping it hides his nervousness. "Or dinner. A date."

He's trying for nonchalance. Like it wouldn't mean anything if you turned him down, preferring to stay friends or whatever this is-

"This Saturday?" you smile, and Jake nods, gives you a toothy grin back, dimples on full display.

You pick up your pen again and draw a little symbol over the figures.

It’s a small heart, and his own soars.

#lookism #lookism x reader #lookism fic #jake kim #jake kim x reader #kim gimyeong x reader #kim gimyung x reader #wannaeatramyeon

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reiluvr · 1 month

Text

🏁 jump start

you just wanted to wallow in peace. a bit hard to do that when two random men ask you to be a "grid girl"?

racer au!! been craving this. pretty much just setting up. this is definetely going to be split up into parts. also i haven't decided whos gonna be the main guy in this so lmk who you like!

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

If someone had told you a few months ago that you'd be standing in the middle of a huge abandoned racing track in the peak of winter while wearing practically nothing, then you would've probably combusted from laughter. You had never been the type to step out of your comfort zone, living by the motto "slow and steady wins the race". You focused on yourself and your grades all throughout high school, the only happiness being when you got accepted into your dream university. It was nothing like the movies though, you didn't immediately fall into the hands of the popular group and have the best university experience. Actually, university ended up being just a more complicated version of high school, you kept your head down and your grades up. It was in the dead of the night, where you were sure no one could possibly glimpse at this side of you, that you’d curl under your covers and pray desperately to any god that would listen, that you wouldn’t feel so alone anymore.

You had, unfortunately, adopted the “I don’t need friends” attitude, but that’s only because you had none. You could scream it off of the edge of a cliff to convince yourself that it was true, but at a certain point, everyone craves attention. For the first time in your life, your grades dropped. You had always been a top student, the slightest drop felt like the end of the world. That’s what lead to the start of your current predicament. You went out one night, pretty late considering you liked to be tucked and asleep by 10. You scoff bitterly to yourself, a bit amused at the irony of going through your teenager phase when you were almost 20. This was what ended up being the fuel for you to impulsively buy a pack of cigarettes and a lighter, walking cluelessly through the streets as you cough at each puff. In hindsight, it might’ve been a bit of an overreaction, especially considering that the ‘horrible’ grades you’ve been receiving recently would be some other student’s dream grades. Yet, it was hard not to be depressed when your entire self-worth was based off of these numbers.

It was nearing around 2 AM and you were…actually, god knows where you were. It seemed as though, in your self-deprecating thoughts, you had walked yourself to the point of being lost. You only snapped out of it because you could hear two very loud men. You hesitantly round the corner, coming face to face with two boys, who couldn’t have been much older than you. They both seemed to be locked in a very heated argument. At a closer look, it was clear they were twins, albeit they couldn’t look more different. The only thing they had in common was their bright pink hair. One of the twins seemed to be trying to calm the other down. You observe him carefully, noting down the washed-up yellow colour of his hoodie and the chipped blue nail polish. You turn to watch the taller twin now, eyes widening slightly as you take in the spiky hair and what looked like tattoos under his eyes? You wince as his words only increase in volume, turning to get away when the smaller twin makes eye contact with you. It feels as though your heart stopped when that prompts the taller twin to look at you as well, his eyes seemingly glowing red.

If you weren’t fearing for your life, you’d be embarrassed at the pathetic squeak that escapes your lips when he starts making his way towards you. You stumble back, each of his steps seemingly equal to ten of your own. You only manage to take a few steps back, eyes blown wide in panic before he’s towering over you, one hand roughly grasping your waist to stop you from stupidly falling over from your desperate scrambling. His grip is nothing soft, fingers almost digging into your hip as he stares down at you. He seems to be analysing you, his- were his eyes red?! You barely even get to process how weird that is before he tugs on your waist, making you stand up straighter as he looks you up and down. You finally manage to find your voice, your mouth opening to tell him to let you go…or maybe beg him. He beats you to it, a sharp grin gracing his face, making his already terrifying features seem even more predatory.

“You wanna make some cash, girl?”

Fuck no. You should have brought something with you, a taser, pepper spray, maybe a knife, anything. The other twin immediately picks up on how your face pales and he jumps in, gently pulling his brother back and shaking his head frantically.

“That is not what he meant! Ryo, you fucking idiot!”

It feels as though you can suddenly breathe again when his hands are off of you, your eyes trained on the taller one, ready to run for it in case he makes any sudden moves. They both let you calm down, the taller one, or Ryo, scoffing at your form. IT’s when you look at least a little more calm that the younger one approaches once again, hands up as if he were approaching a stray cat.

“I'm Yuji, you can call me whatever, and this is my stupid older brother. Sorry about him, he doesn’t speak to girls much.”

Ryo doesn’t hesitate to land a harsh hit against the back of Yuji’s neck, Yuji stumbling forward as he cackles. The display lets you settle down a bit more, an awkward smile on your face as the other one mumbles.

“Call me Sukuna.”

Okay. Not Ryo then.

“Anyways, what he meant was that…Um, okay. This might sound like were trying to kidnap you or something so please just trust us, ah, but even that is a big ask considering you don’t kno-.”

Sukuna grumbles, tugging on Yuji’s collar and pulling him back.

“You talk too much. We have a race starting soon. We’re missing a grid girl. You in, or nah?”

Never in your life would you have agreed. Especially not without asking at least a few questions. A little bad luck on your grades should not have dumbed you down…but apparently it did. You sigh, nodding hesitantly. Yuji practically lights up, immediately calling someone on his phone as Sukuna grins.

“Don’t go home, warm your tires!.....Hmm? Hell yeah we got a girl!”

He seems to listen to whatever the person on the other end is saying. He hesitates, looking you over once before mumbling something into the phone. Sukuna groans once again, snatching the phone out of his hands and mumbling a quick what. He also looks you over, the same way Yuji did before he grins.

“ She could use some work, honestly. Let Shoko know.”

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #sukuna #sukuna ryomen #sukuna x reader #yuji itadori #jjk yuji #racer au

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soundspeachytome · 6 months

Text

our future lives - shohei ohtani soft au

trope: childhood best friends to strangers

word count: 5.9k words

author notes: (this will be a bit long so if you want to jump straight to the fic, go right ahead!)

I wrote this in retrospect to the days i spent with my high school newspaper publication team. Recently, an old friend and org mate from the school newspaper (who i have not spoken to in years) followed me on instagram and it took me down memory lane.

This was a time when a boy who (coincidentally enough, also played for a sports team) used to read drafts of my silly stories and poems of fictional heartbreak and would compliment my writing all the time. He was my best friend until he wasn’t.

This was when everything was awkward, confusing and unsettling; when I didn’t believe love could blossom beyond friendship. And when it was already right in front of me, I chose to run away.

With Shohei Ohtani as my current muse, I write this to close the what ifs our high school memories have left us. And when love finally visits us once again, instead of running away, maybe, just maybe, we’d be able to look at it straight in the face and say, "welcome, I hope you enjoy your stay."

Songs i listened to while writing: (repeatedly, repulsively, and obsessively)

Right where you left me - taylor swift (evermore)

Shouldn’t be - luke chiang

You are in love - taylor swift (1989)

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

==============================

I didn’t feel anything at first but when realization sank, I almost doubled over. A familiar feeling punctured somewhere on the middle of my chest, like a pounding, beating of a drum. While an economics faculty was waiting for me to check out her library card, she chatted animatedly with her colleague and I couldn’t help but eavesdrop. When the words “homecoming”, and “shohei ohtani” were mentioned in one sentence, I almost dropped the books on the professor’s feet.

“I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation… Did you say Shohei Ohtani is coming back…?” I croaked.

“Yes! It’s on the news everywhere. He’s attending his former school’s foundation anniversary as a baseball alum.” She hushed excitedly. She almost looked like she was blushing.

“Professor, didn’t you graduate from Rosewood High School, too?”

She and her friend looked at me expectantly, like I’m some sort of Bingo announcer about to shout their magic winning number. I nodded slowly, a small smile formed my lips.

“Wow! You and Shohei Ohtani were schoolmates, then! Were you in the same year?”

“Has he always been so tall?”

“Did he have any girlfriends back then?”

The pair of them launched their questions like an automatic rifle, I swung albeit defensively, and yet I couldn’t duck myself for cover in time.

I shrugged and quietly said, “I didn’t really know him that much, he was always just playing baseball, I guess.”

Before they could respond, I pushed my thick-rimmed glasses back to the bridge of my nose and went back to my Excel spreadsheets. They said their thank yous and skipped their way out of the library.

Finally, quiet again.

Like every typical librarian, one glare from me could snap chatty visitors’ mouths at an instant. I reveled in the silence of my humble workplace, with shelves taller than any average person, filled with books old and new. I could spend hours in the silence, tapping on my computer archives, or shelving books from the returned pile. This is the job of my dreams. Customary, routine, familiar, comfort zone.

I realized that I have been tapping the letter Y key from the keyboard, lost in thought. I couldn’t believe the words I heard earlier could ever be strung in one sentence, not even in my wildest dreams. I tapped my legs restlessly. It couldn’t be true, could it?

How many popular Shohei Ohtanis could make girls this flustered?

There’s a one-hundred one percent chance that the result is, well, one.

To preserve my peace of mind, I decided to google him, and when the results showed the rumor to be true, I almost spiraled in my seat.

Did you know Shohei Ohtani in high school? The words from the two professors rang in my head.

I knew damn well who Shohei Ohtani is.

Shohei and I have been friends since the day we learned how to talk. We lived on the same block, sat together in class, shared snacks during recess, we’d bicker loudly and fight like the worst of all enemies. According to our mothers, when he pulled my hair after I had claimed his Spiderman lego toy, I screamed so loud it could be heard two houses down the block. He felt so guilty about it and rushed to peck me on the cheeks so I’d stop bawling. Not sure how accurate our mothers’ anecdotes are, if they had been exaggerated or not, but they said, after that fight, little Shohei had treated the little me sweeter after that.

On good days, we played swings in the playground. We walked home together and would visit each other’s houses to play board games and Bomberman until it was no longer comfortable to stay in each other’s bedrooms without getting weird ideas.

Upon reaching puberty, I had grown in breast size, started getting my periods and hormonal mood swings while Shohei had grown a foot taller and his shoulders stretched widely. He lost his baby fat and developed muscle definition after playing sports. It was a time in our lives when it was officially awkward to hold hands while crossing the street, or for him to playfully grab me by the neck. If we did, we would get notes from the schoolmaster for indecency.

It wasn’t only the skinship that changed. Shohei grew to be more popular with the girls when he performed well in high school baseball. He was tall, fit, respectful and most importantly, he had a kind smile that would make your heart do a tap dance. And so my heart wore dancing shoes everyday.

While Shohei was busy playing his ball games, I joined the school paper as a news writer. The club meetings took up most of my afternoons then when i used to spend it by waiting for Shohei. By the time he finished practice, I would still be in the school library, either my face buried in a stack of books, or fingers furiously tapping an article on my laptop.

“You can go first. I don’t think I can go home yet, not unless this article writes itself.” I said one afternoon, not looking up. I was preparing an article for the school sports festival, where Shohei was the third-year representative and captain. I heard him walk up to me and braced myself. Tap tap tap.

He set his gym bag and batting equipment on the table and sat on the chair beside me.

“I’ll wait.” He said calmly. He crossed his arms over the table and closed his eyes, as if to sleep. He sat there in silence, baking in the sounds of my keyboard smashing my unnerving thoughts and emotions.

Suffice to say, I didn’t get anything done after that. The smell of soap and cologne crept up to my nose and his broad shoulders lightly touched mine. Him sitting so innocently with his head on the table was enough of a distraction. It also didn’t help that on my periphery, I knew that he was facing my direction. In the next three minutes or so, I allowed myself to stare at his face: bags under his eyes were slowly showing, his well-defined nose, his mouth slightly agape, with evidence of picking and biting the lower lip skin.

When he startled awake, I scrambled to close the laptop monitor so loudly I thought I had cracked the screen. Embarrassed and face probably beet red, I stood up to leave. He carried all of my bags that day. When I offered to carry his gym bag, he refused.

In the last few weeks of that semester, I had become interim editor-in-chief. Shohei’s games had ended and our deadline for the year-end publication drew nearer. That meant I had made the library my second home like a bridge troll, only allowing brief, important conversations. My entire table was covered with mock newspaper clippings, sample layouts, glue, stacks and stacks of drafts that went through multiple, desperate, bloody revisions. This and the rest of my academic subjects I balanced gingerly on a thin line. Shohei would continue to visit and wait by the other corner of the library, pretending to read mystery thriller books he picked from the shelves. Most of the time, he slept. I never saw him study, even in the library. He didn’t need to as he aces all his subjects while hitting home runs on the field. I always suspected that he astral projects in his sleep and studies inside the realm of dreams. That’s probably why no matter how much he slept, he was still constantly tired.

In other words, Shohei always seemed like he never had to try. He was good at everything. And I always had to work hard just to be able to stand on the same playing field as he is, at least once or twice.

One particular day, when afternoon classes were canceled to give way to the club meetings, I was in my usual spot in the library with Zumi, our layout artist and a third-year from class B. We were finalizing the layout design before submitting it to the publishing house. Shohei was in baseball practice and had been MIA from the library all week.

A group of girls suddenly filled the library.

“He’s not here!” I heard one of them say. They noticed Zumi and I chatting quietly in the corner.

“Hey, you’re Y/N right?” A girl with jet black hair siad. Her skin was white as porcelain. She had retainers on, the ones that looked unfairly pretty on lucky pretty girls.

I nodded.

“Are you Ohtani’s girlfriend?”

“Excuse me?” I blurted out, eyes almost popping out of my eye sockets.

She chuckled. “Right? I couldn’t believe it myself too. I know Ohtani only sees you as his best friend.”

I couldn’t respond right away. It was true but why did it sting so much?

“But they’re always together, I saw her give him a lunchbox during breaks.” A petite girl with a wolf haircut emerged from the sides. She had her arms crossed and an eyebrow raised.

The rest of the group murmured in unison.

“Our mothers are close friends, so it was natural for us to grow up being friends, too.” I said irritably. Not only was this irrelevant but it was so annoying that a bunch of girls would question her decade-long friendship.

“I don’t have to spell out the dynamics of our friendship to you.”

“If that bothers you so much, why don’t you personally tell Ohtani’s mother to stop asking me to bring his lunch boxes for him.”

It was quiet for a few seconds. I was afraid that it would escalate into a screaming match or a brawl that could result in us being kicked out–or worse, banned–from the library. The herd of girls glared at me and I glared right back.

“Um, a-as you can see, he is not here.” Zumi breaks the silence, clearly intimidated but she soldiers on. “And you’re disrupting our meeting.”

The first girl gives me a pointed look and spins on her heel and the rest follows.

Zumi sighed in relief. “Oh my god, Y/N, I thought I would experience my first visit to the schoolmaster’s office before graduation.” She rubbed her sweaty palms together.

I stifled a giggle, anger fading. Zumi’s gentle personality softened me right away. I couldn’t help but smile at her.

“Don’t worry, Zumi, we don’t start fights but we sure as hell can end them.”

Shohei and I met less and less after that. I had purposely avoided him as much as I could because I still felt upset and he didn’t even have a vague idea about other girls spreading rumors about us. Another reason was I didn’t want to be referred to as “Shohei’s female best friend” anymore. His growing popularity in school made me only slink back down to the pits of the social hierarchy.

I also wanted to take some time away and contemplate my feelings about our friendship. He’s only a friend I grew up with. We shared meals together and walked home together. He would hug me when I’m upset and I would console him when his anger skyrocketed. These are common best friend behaviors, right? So why else would it suddenly change? Why don’t we ever stay like this forever?

Weeks after my so-called Shohei blackout, I was left alone to clear the table I had claimed in the far corner of the library when Shohei popped in to visit.

The school year had finally come to a close, exams and ball games concluded, and the year-end paper was now distributed to everyone on campus: Shohei’s team pictured on the front page headline, declared as the year’s champions in inter-high school level.

He had a copy of the newspaper in his hand, grinning.

“Nice article, Y/N.”

“Is it nice because it had your winning face covering the entire spread?”

“I mean, you finally got an article on the front page!” He was waving the paper to you, pointing at the byline, as if you’ve never seen the layout more than a hundred times already. “Written by– your name! How cool is that!”

“My name is in a tiny font under your 32 font-size on the headline. I promise you, it’s not a big deal.”

“It is for me, though. I read it word for word. I loved it. You’re so good at words, Y/N” his eyes crinkled at the sides and I waved him off, blushing.

“I’ve seen enough of this newspaper, I think I’m going to be nauseous.” you faked a retching sound.

“I’ve started seeing that damn thing in my dreams, Sho.” You grimaced. “Please hide that from me. Or I will rip it into shreds.”

Shohei giggled boisterously. You immediately swiped your hands over his mouth.

“Sshh! The librarian will hear you!” You looked around nervously, relaxing after realizing the librarian was nowhere in sight. “I don’t want to get kicked out on our last day of school.”

He held your arms away and uncovered his mouth from your hands. “Seriously, though, I’m proud of you. You worked so hard for this all semester.”

“Well, the subject was interesting to write about.”

“Is that right?” he smiled, mischief glinted in his eyes.

“”Rosewood’s revival after years of being dormant in high school baseball” was a pretty cool angle to write.” I said. And it truly was. The moment I saw the efforts and hardwork of Shohei and his inspiring leadership setting a momentum into the games, I knew right away that I had to call dibs on the story.

“Uh-huh.” He was just looking at me, hands still wrapped around my arms, locking me in place.

“It was a story worthy to tell and I just happened to tell the story. It all just–” I tried to mash my hands together, demonstrating the words synonymous to merging, fusing, blending.

He pulls me close and rests his hand at the back of my neck. I could feel the snug of his embrace melting me into a puddle. He hesitates but leans in. It was soft, abrupt and merely testing the waters. He pulled back slightly to look at my reaction. I didn’t know what I looked like, but what I did know at that moment, my heart bounced uncontrollably like a basketball. I swear I thought it would burst my chest open.

When I didn’t react or push him back, he leaned in for another try, this time, with more intent, meaning, and weight on my lips. When we parted, he looked away sheepishly that all I had to do in response to the kiss was to pull him in a tight hug. We stayed like that for a few more minutes because neither of us knew when to let go, or even wanted to. We just stood there relishing our newfound warmth while concealed in between the quiet and that precious corner space that held us. I don’t know how to define this feeling yet… but I could get used to this.

Nothing further ever happened after that sweet library moment because the next day, we received news that Shohei Ohtani was granted a full scholarship overseas. Thanks to his impressive performance during the last game. Ohtani joked that it was mainly because my frontpage piece was so well-written, it moved the university scouts’ ice-cold hearts to tears.

“You’d be an idiot not to go.” I was at the kitchen counter of our home, setting the newly baked chocolate chip cookies out of the oven to cool down. It was a Saturday morning and Shohei visited, like any other day.

“I’d be alone, though.” he was wistfully eyeing the cookies on the wire rack. “I’m scared I might fail and be a disappointment to my dad.”

His arm slowly reached for the cookies but I immediately swatted him away.

“It’s still hot, dumbass.” I gave him the bowl where the cookie dough was originally mixed. He dutifully scooped the remains and popped a finger in his mouth, he grinned, satisfied.

“You won’t be alone because everybody likes you. And you won’t be a disappointment because you work twice as hard than everyone else. You’re Shohei Ohtani, for god’s sake.”

He doubted but I knew what he was thinking because I was trying not to think about it, too. If this was about the kiss, we can let it go. We can forget about it. It was just a kiss, this was our future and it shined brightly in front of him. It would make me a selfish person to try and block that from him.

“There won’t be a Y/N there, though.” he said, eyes trained to the cookie dough he held. “My best friend won’t be there.”

“I’ll be right here when you come back. Besides, we can always email each other, like we always did in computer class.”

I didn’t tell him this but it also broke my heart to say those words. I will definitely miss him, sure. He’s been a constant presence in my life that once he leaves, it would definitely leave a big hole in my life.

I wanted to tell him that whatever happened in the library that day will always be etched in my memory as long as I lived, that I wanted it as much as he did, and it hurt to say goodbye to a possibility, to something that had barely even started. If I had told him that, he would’ve turned down the offer right away.

So I didn’t, and so he left.

Ohtani and I would email constantly during our very first year in uni. He would send me pictures of the new places he visited, food he tasted, with little descriptions every now and then. You knew he was trying to include me in his new life as much as he could. In return, I showed him how I continued my simple, quiet life, how I met new friends at uni, how I ate at new hole-in-the-wall restaurants with the promise that we’d try them out when he returned back home.

Of course that didn’t last very long as life apparently came in between us. Long training hours for Shohei, and newer opportunities showed up in my doorstep as I got a partial scholarship and part-time job as a student assistant.

It went on like that for a very long time as we kept missing each other’s emails. I would already be asleep when he sends his messages and he’d be out in the field by the time I could reply. Sometimes I don’t receive anything at all at weeks’ a time.

One day, after two weeks of radio silence, I heard a girl in the washroom gush about Ohtani’s popularity overseas and how he has gotten a girlfriend. They were pretty serious, she would go on to say. She had long black hair with a pretty slender body, something like his type.

I stood there, hands dripping wet, listening to something I normally wouldn’t believe unless he confirmed it himself. The thing is, I haven’t heard from him in weeks, so I didn’t have a choice but to believe in the words from the grapevine.

I stopped waiting for his emails to come. If he sent me new ones, I didn’t check. I busied myself in the halls of the library studying, reading and writing, writing and writing my feelings away.

I wrote until my hands got tired, until I spilled everything I needed to forget into paper. Until I welcomed a new love into my life. He was also tall, kind, and cheerful. He respected my time and he loved going to new coffee shops with me. At that point, I was overfilled with joy and contentment that I barely thought about Shohei anymore. In the back of my mind, the chapter of Shohei Ohtani is now closed and my rosy high school life became a beloved, worn out book that I no longer revisited.

Later I learned in life that some things, despite making you undoubtedly happy, could still end horribly.

My relationships turned sour, some of my friendships fell out, but the worst part of it all was when my dad had a heart attack.

He died six months later.

It was pretty much autopilot after that. I could only ever handle so much, I don’t think I am as brave as Joan D’arc to handle ten, twenty more scars. Not when two of the best people I loved have left my life. Not when the person I want to run the most to is… no longer there to meet me.

I was a student intern at the archives section when the post for head librarian was vacated. I’ve already applied to multiple companies in the private and public sectors and kept getting waitlisted but the university hired me on the spot. A week after graduation, I had started my full-time job at the library, and it felt like I was somehow glued back together.

XXX

The cans of beer clinked together as I swayed the black plastic on my way home from the convenience store. Nothing beats a cold can of beer after a full meal. Also because “Shohei Ohtani” is a name I never thought I’d hear again in this lifetime. So much so, that a homecoming sounded so ridiculous that if someone ever suggested that idea to me before today, I would have laughed at their faces. It was an appropriate time to wallow in my drunken thoughts.

Four years was a long time for anyone to change. It was long enough to switch jobs, get promoted, to save up money and travel, to save up money and get married and have kids, or none at all, to study for a new degree, to meet new people and develop romantic feelings for them, to lose such romantic feelings, to forgive and move on, to develop new habits, and it is also long enough for character development if you think your personality needed an overhaul. Four years was a long time apart, a long time to forget each other to even be considered taboo. And yet.

And yet.

XXX

My phone buzzed against my jeans pocket. It was a text from Zumi. She now works freelance and designs her own stationery and stickers sold at mega discount stores all over the country.

“You wouldn’t believe what I just heard.” Zumi texted. Even before she could conjure a follow-up text, I responded right away.

Y/N: “Someone’s coming back to town?...”

Zumi: “WUT.”

Zumi: “U KNEW? AND DIDN'T TELL ME #betrayal”

Y/N: “I heard about it a couple of days ago and blacked out after 3 cans of beer. Sorry, Joomi-chan.”

Y/N: “I didn’t drink only because of the news, though. I ate almost 2 KGs of wagyu, too. It was the perfect drink to end the day.”

Y/N: “I ate ice cream, too."

Y/N: “I’m rambling. I”ve been restless since I heard about it.”

Y/N: “I’ll be okay, though. I always have been.”

I was about to put my phone down after the text blasts I sent to assure her when text bubbles appeared. Typing. I waited.

Zumi: “It’s alright to admit you’re not okay about this, Y/N”

Zumi: “He was a big part of your life, who ghosted you, asshole move btw, and his head’s probably gotten too big for his own good. I wonder how he walks around with that swollen head without toppling over.

Zumi: “Also, I’m only saying all of this because my role as Y/N’s only best friend is currently being threatened. I forgive you though!”

I had to laugh. Zumi was always fond of Ohtani and I even back in high school. Whenever she had time, she would join us on our katsu curry runs and hated matcha, while Ohtani and I loved it. She always preferred strawberry. She was the perfect balance in our little trio. And now, she is my voice of reason.

I paused to reread the text. Am I really okay about this? It’s a fairly small town, the chances of running into him are slim, but never zero. And what if I do meet him by chance, what should I do?

Zumi: “Text me when you feel like drinking again. I’ll sneak out and join you in solidarity!”

Before I could send the cutest peach butt sticker to Zumi, a message from an unregistered number popped up on my notifications.

“Hi, Y/N. It’s Shohei Ohtani. I got your number from your mom. I’m sorry for being abrupt like this but I just flew back from the States and will be spending a few days at home.

Do you want to meet up for some curry katsu for old time's sake?”

Holy hell, I stared at the messages in disbelief. Am I being punked right now? Where is the hidden camera? If the universe is listening right now, please, swallow me whole into the earth right now.

I clenched the phone hard, against my chest. You are better now. Don’t fumble.

Tap tap tap.

XXX

I don’t know what had gotten into my head that when I responded a few hours later, had agreed to meet up after work for curry and drinks. Future me would like to smack past me of five hours ago for making a decision like this.

But here I am now, just a few stores away from the curry place I had suggested for dinner.

Suddenly feeling conscious, I stopped by a convenience store that had a convex mirror on top of the corner shelves. I swiped lipstick on my lips and powdered my nose. I also bought mints just to play for time. I worked up the courage to text Zumi.

Y/N: So, please tell me I’m doing the wrong thing and I will turn back.

Zumi: What happened?

Y/N: After we texted earlier, Shohei texted me out of the blue and that he’s already in the town.

Zumi: He WHAT???

Zumi: Are you telling me he asked to meet up and you said yes?

Y/N: You should switch careers and be a fortune teller instead.

Zumi: You WHAT???

Y/N: Pls, pls, pls tell me I’m wrong for doing this.

She didn’t respond right away. Her text bubbles went up and down infrequently. I stood outside of the restaurant, in the cold of the night waiting for her response.

Zumi: How do YOU feel about it?

Zumi: If I were you, I, who have witnessed all the carnage all these years, I would do it. I know if you turn your back now, you’d spend another four, five years wondering what would’ve happened if you chose differently.

Zumi: Don’t try to rationalize it, Y/N. You’re panicking now. But I know in your heart, you want answers. You want this. So suck it up and be a big gworl!

She resonated exactly how I felt about this. So why was I hesitating?

I walked up to the restaurant and scanned the room. It was almost empty after dinner hours, except for a few white collar workers catching up on late night meals.

And then I saw him. He sat at the back of the room, his back facing the front of the shop. I could recognize those wide shoulders anywhere in a heartbeat. I made a beeline towards him.

He wore a blue polo buttoned up to his chest, creasing at the shoulders as he slouched forward. He looked absolutely different from the memory of the boy who used to carry my bags. His hair grew into thick waves and his cheeks and jawline was chiseled and defined to the bone, revealing more of his handsome face.

He stood up, smiling widely and threw his hands around me, a whiff of his sandalwood perfume and the feel of his hair pressed to my cheek brought everything back: spending lazy days in the library, the night strolls on the way home from school, sharing twin popsicle ice creams, the warmth of his hands intertwined with mine, that last first kiss. I pulled away and he gestured to me to sit down. As we both sat down, I thought, You are always finding ways to get my hopes up.

We stared at each as I settled down on my seat. For a few moments, I felt the room was charged with cold air. His eyes traced my face making me more and more self-conscious, I had to break the ice.

“The chicken curry katsu is good here, you know.” I said, as a waiter approached and served us water. “But if you prefer pork, it’s heaven too.”

I sipped the cold water nervously and fidgeted the hem of my plaid skirt.

“It’s been a while.” I started.

“I’ve been busy.” He started to explain. I hate how he thinks this was his decision, how he didn’t even consider the fact that I’ve been busy, too. “How about you? I’ve stopped hearing about you since…”

“Things happened.” I simplified, but really, I wanted to give him a rundown of how things have more or less worked out okay for me–how I am doing well at my job, taking my Masters, thinking about traveling to Southeast Asia with Zumi, spending time with family on weekends, trying to do pilates at least thrice a month, and catching up with some old friends whenever we got to clear our schedules. How I am, despite his absence, was not entirely miserable. But I don’t want him to think that I am just doing this to prove a point, so I coated a response with the standard, “But I’ve been fine, thanks. How are you?”

“Same old, I’m here for business and something else. I finally got the courage to tell you this now.” He said, finishing up the last of his meal and downing his glass of water before speaking again.

I honestly don’t want to know, I want to order another glass of beer and fall asleep drunk. I want to crawl into my bed and waddle in self-pity at how I’ve spiraled back to square one, of how after all these years, I am still hopelessly in love with this unattainable man, who thinks we are still each other’s best friends after years of no contact. Instead I responded cautiously, “What is it?”

He inched forward and leaned his face on his right hand. “There’s this girl.”

I held my breath and braced myself for impact.

“There’s this girl. We almost always never stood on the same foot. She hated sports and hated standing in the sun to see me play, but watched regardless because she had to write an article about it.

“When we finally started realizing we liked each other, I received my scholarship grant and moved overseas. If she got mad about me going MIA, I could've explained better to her that I had an accident during Spring training and was in a hospital bed for almost a month. Had she checked her emails, she would know. But she never replied. Ever.

“After a few months, I heard from our friends that she finally got a boyfriend and was in a happy, healthy relationship. I thought, ‘Oh. Good for her! I'm happy for her. Someone near to take care of her.’ but was I really, though? I got myself a girlfriend, too and forgot about this girl for a while.

“But I heard about her dad’s passing and I tried to reach her but I couldn’t. Her home phone number was disconnected, my mom said they moved out of the block and she still won’t respond to my emails.

“I couldn’t be there for her but I thought, “she'd be with her boyfriend. She’ll have someone to lean on. But then her friends said they had broken up long before the incident. She carried all those baggage all by herself? Who did she have to lean on? Was she eating okay? Was she sleeping well? Does she still smile when she watches puppies run around bumping into things?

“It seemed like the timing was never on our side. She was available when I wasn’t, I was free on the days that she was occupied.

“I’ve always wondered if the universe played some practical joke on the two of us. If somehow, they'd ever allow me the chance to meet her again. I’ve been waiting for her for a long time now.

“Y/N, do you think if I ask her now, she’d finally be as ready as I am to meet her?”

I exhaled and felt my heart pounding. There is the thrum in my chest that felt all too familiar. Have we been missing each other’s chances all this time? Have I been getting on and off the wrong platform, just as much as he did, because we didn’t know what we wanted when we were barely twenty?

“I think you should ask her before it’s too late.” I said, catching myself, still staying on that third person narration. I mulled over the times we constantly missed each other like he had pointed out. He had been there for me when I was searching for myself and what I wanted to do, and I had watched him from afar when he was trying to meet his dreams, to the point of pushing him far away.

“I’m asking you now. I was always late, wasn’t I?”

His brown eyes bored into mine, expectant, hopeful. “Yes. You were...but you’re here now..." I trailed off, thinking how much shock I was to hear Shohei's speech. I wondered if responding to my real feelings was the right thing to do. He had his accident, my dad's funeral, the miscommunication between us. The sudden falling out. I wondered, if after all this time, someone like me would still be worth restarting over with.

"...and I think, you’re just in time, Sho.”

He smiled widely, showing the crinkles on the sides of his eyes, he exhaled as if he had been holding his breath all this time.

"Thank god. I was almost certain you'd say no and disappear on me again." he laughed.

Freckles that I've never seen before popped over his nose and cheeks. So much has changed in his appearance but it was the same smile of the boy I love since eighteen.

“I’m home,” he whispers.

“Welcome back,” I said, finally smiling at him, too.

Shohei stands up and offers his hand as we exit the restaurant; I take it and interlace our fingers. For the first time in a long time, the tap dancing of my calloused heart has returned ever so exhilarating, like a lost pulse bringing me back to life. We are catching up on lost time, and for whatever fragment of memory that may have escaped through the cracks, we’ll slowly string them together. It doesn’t matter how many possibilities we’ve missed in the last four years of being apart. The important thing is this possibility, the right here and right now.

#shohei ohtani #shohei ohtani au #shohei ohtani imagines #shohei ohtani pov #shohei ohtani soft hours #soft spot for #high school shohei #i'm not so confident about this one #but i hope everyone likes how it ended #thank you for reading! <3

140 notes · View notes

collectivecloseness · 1 year

Note

1) hey. You know i love you, right? & 45) how can someone as perfect as you, like someone like me? For Steve/reader please. With Steve then reader saying it

Prompts: 1) hey. You know i love you, right? & 45) how can someone as perfect as you, like someone like me?

(Notes: anon i got your follow up requesting alluring to the reader having depression as well, so tw for depression mention)

Steve Harrington x reader

You stood quietly on the sidewalk, swinging back and forth with your feet on the edge of the curb, as your boyfriend said bye to a group of his highschool friends. Specifically, a few guys he was on the basketball team with, and their girlfriends, who’d all bumped into Steve’s as he closed up family video, with his arm around your waist, ready to take you back to his for an evening of ‘borrowed’ movies and good popcorn.

But then his old teammates ran into him, all on their way to some club that didn’t care if people were one or two years south of being allowed to enter, and Steve had been swooped up into a conversation with them. You didn’t mind it, and he still kept his hands warmly around your waist the entire time. Until you’d given him a small smile, and politely stepped away in the middle of the conversation, so he wouldn’t ask. Until the girls started drooling over Steve Harrington again.

Apart from one of the couples who’d been dating since Sophomore, you’d never seen any of the girls with these particular guys before, in fact you were certain two of them had swapped boys, so it didn’t surprise you they were absolutely fine batting their eyes at Steve. Who by all accounts, even if he’d lost his king status, was still highly wanted.

Steve soon wrapped up bro hugging his former teammates, and as they all cheered goodbye to him, maybe a pre party or two in, Steve wrapped his arm over your shoulders, and finished their rallying cry for Hawkins High back between cupped hands, apologising quickly to you, still with a grin on his face as you flinched away from his loud cheer in your ears. Only smiling a little up at him for that though. That you could smile playfully about. The thoughts in your head were more damaging.

“Okay! Shall we get moving?” Steve clapped his hands together, grabbing his keys back from his pocket and swirling them around his fingers, as you both walked to his car.

Inside you turned the radio up, before you’d even done your seatbelt. To which Steve just smiled at you, singing lowly along to the lyrics he knew, and a few he was definitely misunderstanding, as he mindlessly bopped his hands on his steering wheel.

You were glad for the distraction. At least it meant you didn’t have to talk. You saw those girls, a few of whom rumours had spread Steve had dated before, well known, popular, dazzling, all dressed up, make up and hair amazing, bright smiles glimmering at Stevie. And you saw how animated he got when his old clique came rolling up, how pumped he was to be hanging out with them like it was old times, even if it was only for ten minutes.

Like Robin, who occasionally snarked Steve over this fact, he hadn’t really noticed you in his high school days.

It wasn’t anything malicious, and it wasn’t like you were invisible either. You just didn’t really connect until Steve started working at family video, which was fine! You hadn’t paid Steve more attention than a regular classmate, and than understanding his status as king, either. And then with Vecna, you two became even closer.

But it still sometimes worried you. A cold, sludgy feeling creeping from your stomach, up through your chest and throat like bile, that you weren’t good enough for Steve. And that, horribly, one day, he’d know it too. Which is why, even though Steve knew about your depression, and had glimpses into your self-doubts, you hadn’t exactly told him this point blank. For fear as soon as you said the words, he’d take a step back, and see it for the first time clearly himself.

Steve quickly pulled up to his home, and you two got out of the car together. Steve quickly making his way to your side, humming the rest of the Madonna song lost with the cars engine, as he placed his hand on the small of your back, leading you up his pathway. You loved how often he touched you, even at simple times, Steve always liked to be touching you.

Steve turning his head to you now however, made you try to fight back a grimace, because you could tell what was going through his head.

“Hey. You’ve been pretty quiet the entire ride.” Steve lightly begun, his hand sliding further along your back as he walked you to your front door.

“Really? Sorry. Hadn’t noticed.” You quickly covered up, melting just a little when Steve breathed out a laugh through his nose, and you could feel his lips smiling as he kissed your head. “Don’t need to apologise. Just saying.”

You squeezed his waist with your own hand holding onto him for a few seconds, unceremoniously dropping simply as Steve had got the door open. Holding it for you as you came in, double locking the door with the bolt he’d put in after his first experience with the upside down, before kicking his shoes off in tandem with you, throwing his vest onto the coat rack.

Steve sighed loudly, wiping his hands over his face, before stopping in front of you. Pressing both hands to your waist as he leaned over and pecked a few kisses to the centre of your head. “Mmh. Food now?” He asked, to which you only nodded. Loving Steve’s loving gestures, but also feeling bad in yourself about him holding your waist

He soon let go, looking like he wanted nothing more than to collapse into the couch, which you did yourself, but walking over to the wall his phone was on, and scouring through the neat pile of take out menus. “I’m thinking pizza, we can get it from the place you like this time. Sound good babe?” He smiled over at you, batting the menu against his hand and the leather of his watch.

You didn’t jump up with the fact that Steve always bitched about ordering pizza from his much preferred restaurant usually, and you didn’t turn around with a smile, you didn’t even say yes. You just threw a thumbs up behind your back, and your eyes scoured for the tv remote without moving your body. Fuck this would seem more natural if you just switched on the tv right then. But maybe Steve wouldn’t notice.

Big no.

Steve dropped the menu and walked over to you, sitting down on the sofa cushion closest to you, and tried to snatch your eyesight.

You just couldn’t do it.

“Hey? Is everything okay hun?”

“Mmhm.”

Fuck. You were doing a shitty job. But you couldn’t help it. You felt grey. Like just your whole body was grey. And cold. And disgusting. As much as you desperately wanted to act like everything was normal, you just didn’t have it in you. You couldn’t even look at Steve, and you didn’t even really know why! God everything felt awful right now, just because some of Steve’s old friends had to remind you all of the reasons you thought you didn’t deserve Steve. Not that they were buried deep anyway. You always thought it was true. And God Steve was leaning closer to look at you and you just wanted the earth to swallow you whole right now so you could avoid this!

“I love you.”

That was all Steve said. And while the spike through your heart this time was a nice one, rather than a jagged painful one, it still felt wrong. Like Steve saying that was just wrong. Not that you didn’t believe him, you knew he was a true guy. But it made you feel worse, even less capable of looking at him. No matter how hopeful and genuine his tone was then.

You just turned your head away, your body inching in on itself, the sofa shuffling in the quiet of the room. And oh, if you could have seen yourself, you knew that would set alarm bells off in Steve, it would in anyone. And you didn’t see Steve’s face dropping.

“Hey. You know I love you, right?” Steve was concerned, confused. He shuffled closer to you, knees on top of your curled up thighs, his warm hand hovering over the space between where your back was arched away from him, and the sofa, before deciding to place it there. Angling his head as much as possible to try and get you to look at him, with his eyebrows scrunched sadly, and his deep brown eyes troubled.

You didn’t turn back at him, you didn’t even look at him. Steve could just hear you breathing louder now, breaths flowing from your mouth.

“Baby you know I love you?”

Steve was worried. He tried to smooth his face just a little, wanting to be the strong one for you, but letting his concern for you prevail clearly, even if you weren’t looking at him now. He half wanted to grasp your chin and tilt you to look at him, his hand certainly brushed against your cheek enough for his movements to flutter there. But instead Steve changed course, easily jumping from his seat on the sofa, and landing right in front of your feet. Resting his hands on your knee, head level with yours, and always bobbing, following you, just a bit under you, silently pleading for you to look at him. He had half a mind to jump onto the end of the sofa in front of you and squeeze in with you, if he didn’t worry about crowding you and making things worse. Steve just wanted you to talk to him.

And he got what he wanted. His pink lips dropping wider as you finally turned your head to him, and he saw your watery eyes. His hand immediately shot to your cheek again, his thumb rubbing your apple as you cried, his face miserable as he watched you sniffle, desperate to be close to you, to fix this.

“But... why?”

Your head felt too full, too fuzzy with unnerving thoughts to really untangle this web. You just wish someone could do it all for you. Without wanting to put that pressure on Steve. You kept your face in his hand, but you didn’t move far into it. But now your eyes couldn’t move off of Steve’s, and you found it a similar problem. Because you couldn’t stand to see how sad you were making him.

“Why what baby?” Steve asked caring, rubbing your cheek with one hand, always shifting on his legs, and periodically squeezing your hand with his other.

“How- how can someone as perfect as you, like someone like me?” You forlorned.

Steve’s eyes widened in shock, a little glossy themselves now, and he grasped your hand tighter, his thumb quickly wiping away any tears that fell. “Hey y/n how could you think that? I love you. You know that. Why would you think that sweetheart?”

“Because I s-saw your friends. I saw how well those girls look after themselves, how liked they are, and I know the girls you used to date back in highschool-“

“Baby that was highschool.” Steve interrupted, but you just squeezed his hand back.

“I don’t... I don’t...” you were scared to say it. You didn’t want him to think it, you didn’t want to shatter the illusion, you didn’t want Steve to see you that way, you didn’t want Steve to think of you like that, you couldn’t have Steve look at you like that!

“Don’t what y/n?”

Fuck it. Your heart was beating too fast. “I don’t look like them! I don’t look like someone you’d date, I don’t act like people as cool as your friends, I’m not as cool as them, I’m not as cool as you! I’m not anything. I’m not anything compared to all that. I just... you could do so much better, and I’m so so scared that you’ll realise that and leave me and I’m sorry for keeping you away when you deserve better but I love you and I don’t want to-“

A large sob overtook you, and your eyes widened for a second as you realised everything you’d just said in the second your body forced you to breathe. And you collapsed your face into your knees, your hands covering your face, as you sobbed into your legs. Distraught with what you’d just said.

The whole time Steve rubbed your back. Shushing you, but you couldn’t hear it. Not over your own sobs. You dreaded to see his face, to see him thinking over what you just said. And when you eventually had to look up, Steve was going to see your face at arguably its worst. Heated, eyes red, blotchy, swollen, hair a mess, nose runny. You didn’t want to look up, you didn’t want to face Steve, you couldn’t lose him.

Even if sometimes it felt like you were selfish for keeping him. Because you were so sure he could do better than you.

Steve kept holding your hand, the one hiding the side of your face, but the one he hadn’t let go of the whole time. And he kept it as he moved, no longer in front of you. Something you were aware of, so much it subconsciously stifled your cries a little, because you were trying to listen to where Steve was moving, too afraid to look up. But then you felt him right by your side again. And before you knew it, Steve was moving you over onto his lap, without any resistance from you, and you cried as your face was placed against his chest. A fresh wave of sobs overtaking you as Steve cradled you to his chest, his strong arms scooping you up comfortably onto his lap, as he held you. Rocking you. Gently, warmly, lovingly. You didn’t even hide your face with your hands, you didn’t have to.

You just cried into Steve’s chest, able to smell him from your nostril that wasn’t blocked, and able to feel him all around you. Able to relax because his chin was tucked into your hair, so at least one of your fears was quashed, he couldn’t look at you like that. Your sobs quiet, but hiccuping into Steve, letting your boyfriend hold you, and letting him comfort you.

“Baby...”

This was it. Your sobs stopped in your throat like sick, silent as you waited to hear what he had to say in that careful tone.

“...you know I know you’re beautiful right?”

A steady breath left you. Just looking up at him. His face upset, but warm. His hand lovingly stroking over your face, getting those hair strands away from your sticky cheeks, his other hand soothing on your back.

“You know I can tell how gorgeous you are. I see it everyday.”

You slowly tried to hide in Steve’s chest, but his hand warmly spread from your cheek across your neck, and it made you roll it in how good it felt, head lolling flatly onto Steve’s chest. Smushed, you were sure, but way too comfortable for you to move. Especially when your wet eyes and heated form made you feel so sleepy. Especially when Steve made you feel safe enough to doze on.

You sniffled, uncaring and not self conscious about it, as you snuggled into Steve’s torso, because he had such a way of holding you so comfortably. “You’re just saying that.”

“Uhhh no.” Steve responded, in an almost bitchy voice, which usually got you to laugh when he was like that. Instead, you just looked up at him with eyes that looked so big, glossy under him like this.

“Babe, you’re a hottie. Do I not say that enough? Dustin makes vomiting faces at me all the time when you’re not looking when I say it.”

Okay he got a giggle out of you there. Your heart still thumped though, uncertainty making it’s home in your brain as it always did. Luckily Steve Harrington was an expert at speeches.

“You’re a smoke show. Suuuuper charismatic. You are the quintessential apple of my eye.” He kissed your head, then again because he couldn’t resist, and he saw your hand reaching up, lightly playing with the shirt gripped to his chest.

“I mean, you remember that night I didn’t want to take you to Robin’s party because I swore someone was going to steal you away, and then you suggested I wear something as hot as you were so that way you didn’t stand out.”

A small giggle slipped past your lips. And Steve’s fingers waggled slightly into your waist, making you dodge away and quickly grab his hand, although not caring that he was touching your waist anymore. You just brought his hand back up to between his chest and yours, and played with it. Listening to Steve as you just looked at his hand, watching his fingers go as you toyed with them.

“I’m still terrified of someone scooping you up. Away from me.”

Now you looked up at Steve. Your cheek was pressed into his chest, and even though he was smiling at you, his eyes were flickering down like yours had been earlier. A hint of hurt betrayed in them. “You know.... you know I- I struggle with my own self doubts too. You help me with them all the time.”

Steve only had to lift his stolen hand, to be able to kiss the knuckles on all of yours. His eyes flickering to you with some playfulness, but soul still there. “And I’d be a bit of a shitty boyfriend if I didn’t know your own personal demons too, since you help me with mine all the time. And I know you know it’s brave to do so, and I hope you’d know that I’d never be upset with you for having them, like I’d leave you or something. Because I’m not gonna magically think it’s true just because you say something that’s frankly absurd about yourself.”

You just looked at Steve awed. Your heart still, your whole body and mind at ease. The storm was over, and you were just enamoured with Steve. Just taking in everything he had to say, as he held you. Tears dry and itchy at your eyes, only to be pushed away like Steve had magically known of it the second you felt the discomfort. He never let you feel even the slightest of that.

“And considering how I’ve seen you fight literal demons, I’m sure you look just as hot battling mental trauma than with blood splatter and sweat all over you.”

You laughed loudly this time. Feeling proud in yourself that you got Steve to smile again too, laughing along with you. As his hands cupped your face, feeling your laughter in your cheeks, and swatting away any loose strands of hair, watching you laugh like you were the most beautiful sight in the world.

Yeah. You leaned your head against Steve, looking up at him with nothing but love in your eyes, and seeing it reflected right back at you, before having your face brought up for a kiss. You’d get through this with him. It had to be easier than actual demons, after all.

#Steve Harrington/reader #steve harrington hurt/comfort #Steve Harrington angst #Steve Harrington x reader #Steve Harrington drabble #Steve Harrington #stranger things #3.2k

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lilys0evil0twin · 1 year

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.... Y/n is quite pleased with this new boyfriend of hers. He's overall sweet and kind unlike the other jerks she dated~ Now she wanted to know how he is in bed So invited him over to her house,saying she has a fun game and wanted him to play with her~ Heracles being the sweet innocent himbo he is,agreed. He probably didn't expected to be pushed onto the bed by his gf, who is wearing a sexy lingerie that made him overheat minutes ago. Y/n sitting on him just simply smirked and say:"Oh darling I'll make sure to love you fully tonight, let me give you a taste of pleasure~"

-Anon

Who's ready to destroy the innocence of this gentle mountain of a football player?! Enjoy!

Uhh please don't get confused at my constant switching of his name... I don't know myself

Warnings: smut, nothing much just Hercule losing his v-card.... Hard

Word count: 4198

School, the hell on Earth. The stress of constant exams, the lack of sleep and as Y/n says; being surrounded by morons. Every teacher thought their subject is the most important in students' life, girls fought for every cute guy, spreading lies and secrets around the school and all the guys wanted in return of playing hard to get, was to fuck and move on.

Y/n was tired of it. This highschool stereotype. This teen stereotype. So, out of boredom, she decided to claim males reputation. She became a fuck boy. Well not eternally, but you know what, why not give those bastards a taste of their own medicine. Through out the years her reputation grew, she played the popular boys, the cute chicks. Everyone were gossiping about her but she knew it all about the others. The high-class girls started to fear her, for obvious reasons. You know the song "Take your man" by Mahogany Lox?

"I can take your mans, if I want to

But lucky for you, I don't want to"

And to the male party? The ones brave enough approach her, the ones with death wish will try and flirt, the others just admired from afar....

.....

"...Heracles.."

"Heracles...?"

"HERACLES!"

The sudden loud call of his name strattled the mountain of a teen. Currently in the middle of lunch break, Heracles was sitting at his usual table with his close friends; Castor, Jack and two years younger Göll, who was more like his little sister really. Now with his attention finally focused, Heracles turned towards his friend. "What are you doing, your food's getting cold" the teen with a bob cut asked picking on his rice. With a small, confused 'hm?' Heracles looked down towards his plate "Wha- Oh, ya! Sorry I kinda got lost in thoughts" the ginger smiled, putting a mouthful of already cold marinated chicken with vegetables in his mouth. A small laugh could be heard over the voices in the cafeteria, opposite from the ginger football player.

"Come on Hercules, go talk to her~" their senior Jack laughed, seeing his friend's face go totally red. "T-Talk to who?!" whispering a chocked yell, the football player's tough facade flew out of the window. Jack only raised an eyebrow "You know who, Y/n L/n of course! The Miss unapproachable? The, sorry for the expression, Fuck girl of the school?" Heracles only mumbled something shyly, staring holes into his food. Göll giggled beside him, leaning to catch his eyes. "Don't be scared she'll definitely like you!" she said with so much enthusiasm, it was a wander how it fit into her small form.

"I'm not scared! Why would I be? Wha? Wh-what are you even implying??!"

"Oh please, you're kind, funny and handsome! A total gentleman!" Göll clapped her hands, frowning her eyebrows in determination. Hercules only blushed, buds of sweat forming on his forehead and turned towards Y/n's table over his shoulder. "Oh look now's your chance! She's talking with my sis!!" Göll pointed towards her, jumping in excitement. But Hercules hasn't moved, quickly turning to his plate head falling between his stuff shouldes. Castor leaned closer to Hercules smiling gently. "Look you should talk to her, that way it won't weight you anymore" Jack leaned back sipping his tea as Hercules took a breath.

"Aaaand you can't be a virgin forever~"

"JACK!"

Hercules could hear his friends bicker and laugh as he neared hit target. Just as he was in sight field Brunhilde smile at him in greeting. "Oh, hey Heracles" Brun's voice made Y/n turn and see who was the unlucky soul that decided to interfere in their conversation. Her e/c eyes met with sharp baby blue ones of a surprisingly tall guy. Unimpressed she raised a brow waiting for him to voice his request. The boy cleared his throat, lightly preparing himself. "I apologize for disturbance ladies, but uh," he took a pause, eyes flicking between the two girls "m-may I talk to Brunhilde for a minute please?"

Brun slowly turner her eyes away, looking towards the table Hercules left moments ago, only to meet with the excited shines of her younger sister. The girl was squeezing her tumbs so tightly her knuckles turned white. Her overjoyed form was moving around in her seat, quite opposite to the boys sitting at the same table. Both looking they're way in interested, Jack's heterochromatic eyes slightly squinting in mischief, small smirk hiding under his slowly growing mustache. Obviously getting the hint Brun smiled turning her attention back to Hercules' nervous form. Resting her cheek against her hand, she asked "Oh is it about your game today?" the glit in her eyes showed Hercules she wants him to follow her lead, so despite knowing what she's implying, he obeyed.

"Ah, um yeh.. yes" he nodded nonchalantly. Brunhilde smiled sweetly "Yes, I'll come watch" she turned to her companion "Wanna come with me?" Y/n only hummed, playing with her food. "Ya, why not. I have nothing better to do anyway" she sighed and returned to her food, not really glancing at Hercules. His eyes twinkled as his lips twitched upwards slightly. After a short moment of silence, it started to feel a little awkward.

"So um, I'll see you both there then" he smiled sheepishly turning away to leave before the lunch break finished. But before he left he heard Brun "We'll cheer for you!" Heracles only chuckled, feeling a little embarrassed.

.....

Y/n kinda wanted to check out the football game today so she'd visit anyway. But why not play hard to get? Now she was sitting beside Brunhilde on stands, watching the game unfold. It was interesting. Well not the game itself, but rather the players. I mean who wouldn't like tall, sweaty men ramming and wrestling with each other while the prettiest girls in the shortest skirts cheering them on.

Y/n was intrigued, here and there she caught the Hercules boy looking their way. Of course she couldn't tell whether he was looking at Brun or her. Brun was the friend of his after all.

Brunhilde on the other hand didn't miss those small smirks of his everytime Y/n cursed their team for losing the ball. Brun was determined, she knew this plan would work. Despite not taking part in this whole Heracless-crush-thing, those quiet desperate signals from Göll were enough to decide she'll take the matter in her own hands.

As the game ended Brun excused herself and quickly left, leaving Y/n at the stands near the entrance to the changing rooms. With a little compliance, Y/n agreed to wait for her friend.

Leaning on the wall she boredly swiped through her phone. With an irritated groan she checked the time. 'God where the hell is she?' pushing herself off the wall, about to leave not wanting to waste anymore time. Well she tried to leave, if it wasn't for the soft wall that someone placed right before her. Grunting courses under her breath, Y/n looked up meeting baby blue irises.

"Oh excuse me miss, are you alright?" Heracles stood before her, sweaty and breathing slightly unevenly. Y/n took a step back and . She must've admit, he looked quite tasty in that football uniform of his. It clung nicely to his chest and shoulders. He was tall with wide shoulders and slim waist. Long ginger hair and some kind on make-up on his face. But as her eyes slid down his abdomen, the same markings peaked from under his shirt. They were even on the same side, but other boys from their team weren't painted like that, maybe it is a tattoo?

"Uhm, m-miss?" his voice was what chaught her attention and she quickly looked to his face. Not that she was hiding that she was literally feeding on his appearance. And that pink tint on his cheeks was kinda cute. "You're surprisingly polite for a guy your age" she grumbled, crossing her arms over het chest "I like it, give me your phone" she said extending her hand. Heracles wanted to say something when Y/n mentioned his politeness, but that was quickly shut down after she asked for his phone. Honestly, his whole brain shut down. So he just stood there, like a statue.

"Hello?" Y/n raised an eyebrow "Are you still there?" Heracles only blinked. "Y-Yah uh... I-It's in my back, i-in the locker" pointing a finger behind Y/n. She turned seeing the entrance to the showers. He even pointed to the wrong direction, damn he's so cute. "Well" she faced him again "then go get it, hop hop! I don't have all day!" She clapped her hands, making him nod and particularly ran to find his bag.

After a minute, Heracles was back. Panting and fluffed up, his clothes wrinkly and hair flying all over the place. Showing his phone into Y/n's face. Y/n only chuckled at his cuteness. He was so desperate and desperately trying to hide it. So cute. She tapped in her contacts, putting a heart behind her name. Then she did the same with his contacts in her phone. Putting him under the name 'Gladiator<3'. After she departed with a wave telling Heracles to text her when he gets home. Leaving this poor boy to freeze where he was, gripping his phone a little too hard, blushing so much that if you looked close enough, you'd see steam coming from his ears.

.....

After some shy messages here and there, those two started texting each other regularly. Becoming good friends in no time. Heracles' personality was probably the main indicator, he was sweet, kind and just so easy to talk to. Good mornings and good nights were a must. Telling each other what they were doing each day, how they were etc.

Until Hercules sent this one message that changed everything.....

Gladiator<3

Hey Herc

Whatcha doin~?

Hey

Nothing much

Just thinking

Thinking?

Abt wha?

You

Y/n really didn't know if it was intentional or if he just sent it and later the meaning hit him like a train, and to be honest Heracles didn't either.

Needless to say he was frightened shitless the next day at school. He even considered not showing up, I mean..... His stomach really felt weird, like he'll throw up if he sees y/n in the hallway.

Thankfully he was able to avoid her the majority of the day, but unfortunately for him Jack took things into his own hands.

Y/n felt bad, like really bad. This guy was the only one that she felt bad for after leaving on "seen". The feeling got even worse during the day, Heracles didn't even text her good morning for God's sake!

By the time lunch arrived, Y/n was on nettles. She hoped she'll see Heracles at their table and maybe would be able to talk it out, but once there only Jack was there to meet her. Reading news on his phone, such a weird fella.

"Hi Jack" Y/n slumped into the chair beside him with a sigh. Jack only hummed at her presence, too deep in the thing he was reading. They never talked much, but we're never in uncomfortable silence, so Y/n never pressured him.

Jack put down his phone taking a sip from his tea. "He's at the gym" Y/n looked up not really getting what he was saying. "Hercules, he's in the gym. He's probably juicing his brain for ideas." Jack specified, looking Y/n into her eyes. She only stared back, not moving a muscle.

"Well? Just go" Y/n stood up and left knocking few students out of her way, leaving only her lunch to keep the company to Jack. Who just continued to drink his tea with a smile.

.....

Pacing back and forth the whole gym Hercules already lost count of how many times he circled the room. What the hell was wrong with him? How could he text her that?? Of course she left him on "seen", what was she supposed to text to that. He wouldn't be surprised if she never texted him again, if never even wanted to see him. But.... He wanted to see her...

God he's so fucking scared. What should he do?

Pulling on his ponytail Heracles groaned, head falling backwards, his eyes closed. How could Y/n call him a gladiator when he's such a coward. Heracles had his back turned to the door when they were banged open by someone. He looked over his shoulder to see who was so impatient, only to freeze in his spot.

"Y/n?"

Stunned by her sudden appearance, Heracles never experienced first hand the "speak of the devil". The poor boy was even more surprised when Y/n walked to him and hugged him. "What the fuck are you doing, huh? Ignoring me like this?" her voice was mumbled due to her face being pressed into his chest. Heracles calmed down a little and wrapped his arms around her, hugging her back. After a moment of silence Y/n spoke again, now more clearly. "I'm sorry, for not texting you back."

"I meant it"

"What?"

Hercules took a breath, straightening his back. Gathering up courage to look down at Y/n. "I like you"

"You're such a dork" Y/n laughed hitting the stressed out boy playfully.

Yep, they started dating. The play girl Y/n L/n was now in a relationship.

Those two love birds started spending more and more time together, even going as far as to have sleepovers. Y/n didn't believe Hercules was real at some moments tho, he was like from a romantic novel. Taking her on dates, bringing her flowers, listening to her ranting, even gossiping with her.

It was like a dream, Y/n may have really fallen in love. Only one last thing to do to make sure she's really about to invest into this relationship to work. She wanted him to fuck her. I mean... Can you blame her? Every time she saw him laying on the couch in his worn out tank top and sweatpants.

As time went on, Y/n was only hornier and hornier. Plus it was frustrating that even tho she did catch Hercules staring, he never crossed any lines. He only followed her lead. So why not use it to her advantage?

One evening Y/n called upon the girls meeting. She with Brunhilde and her sisters sat in a circle in her room. The problem at hand? How to seduce Y/n's boyfriend Hercules. The girls exchanged ideas:

Hrist was for Y/n to greet him wrapped up like a present, holding a paper with "For Hercules" on it. And if it didn't work then to just grab him and fuck him senseless.

Thrud was for a simple "Netflix and chill", maybe make some snacks to enjoy and just be a lil touchy and he'll surely follow.

Randgriz was too shy to say anything and the other girls just listened excitedly. Except for Alvitr that was sulking, because no one acknowledged her idea with sexy lingerie. Göll with Hlökk nearly passed out three times if it wasn't for Göndul.

And so the plan was made, with the finalizing help of Brun of course. Now it only needs to be put into action.

.....

The plan was simple, text Hercules asking him to stay at Y/n's house. This weekend was perfect because her parents went on some trip and won't be back till the next weekend.

Hercules agreed to stay of course and Y/n got to work. The first day was their usual. They lazied around the whole day and went to town in the evening. The next day however, Y/n sent Hercules shopping while she got ready.

Putting on her favorite red lingerie, ready to confront her boyfriend whenever he comes back.

.....

"H-hey" Y/n pushed Hercules on the bed. He was quick to sit up when she lowered herself before his legs, comfortably kneeling down. "W-what are y-..?" "Don't worry love, just relax and enjoy~" Y/n says seductively pulling his knees apart. With a lovestruck sigh, resting her cheek on his thigh. Her steady breaths brushed past the space of his pants, getting tighter and tighter with each exhale. Slowly unzipping his pants while maintaining eye contact with the blushing boy. First to look away was Hercules, his blush getting darker and spreading all the way from his ears to his chest. Heart drumming in his ears, banging against his ribs so hard he'd think they'll break. He didn't know where to look, it was getting so hot, where should he put his hands, what should he do?! Just as Hercules started to panic a gasp filled the room, his body shaking, mind going blank.

'Y/n! She-She's !! -' taking in a shaky breath

'She's!!'

Y/n only chuckled seeing his flustered state. She licked the under side of his manhood, following the giant vein from it's base to the head. Giving it a kiss with little kitten licks along his slit. Inching her hand towards his base, fingers slowly rubbing in circular motion. The precum rolled from his tip only to be gently licked off, twitching every time she did so. "Y-Y/n.." her e/c eyes peaked from below her long lashes with a seductive look, fire dancing behind her pupils. He couldn't look her in the eye, it was too much. Cowering his blushing face with the back of his hand, he looked away, eyebrows frowned.

"S-Stop.."

"Oh sorry for teasing you love, but you're just so cute~"

Being called cute now? Hercules pressed his lips together, only to open them in a moment letting out a relieved sigh. The warmth and wetness of Y/n's mouth enwrapped his cock. Sighing and moaning softly, Hercules closed his eyes. His tip hit the back of Y/n's throat. Hercules expected a gag from how hard the impact felt, but nothing. Only the small exhale as her nose buried in the short ginger hair, filling her lungs with his musk. This went on for some time, Hercules's moans and grunts sounded over the muffled sounds from the street.

"Y-Y/n"

"Let it out" Y/n said as her deep throat session ended, going back to licks and kisses. Stroking his length at fast pease, her mouth opened over his swollen red tip. The atlete let out a sudden loud groan reaching his big hand for her petite shoulders. "W-wait! Y/n!" She only chuckled moving her hand faster, forcing him over the edge. His hot cum shoot into her opened waiting mouth. Pulling away and sitting on his lap, Y/n swallowed the sticky, slightly salty substance, her e/c gaze meeting his blue one.

"Why did you? ... Doesn't it taste bad?" if his blush could get any darker, it did. Heracles' squinting, teary eyes barely saw his girlfriend. Y/n shaked her head, her h/c locks swinging from side to side "No, you're sweet" she reached for her face, swiping some escapee cum from the corner of her plump lips "Like a candy cane! Here!" and stuffed her seed covered finger into his mouth. His baby blue eyes widened as his shoulders shifted in surprise. Just as he wanted to protest, Y/n pulled her hand away, replacing her finger with her lips. In hopes to calm him down a little, she deepened the kiss, rubbing her tongue against his. Thankfully it did help, seeing as Hercules relaxed his shoulders, his hands unconsciously moving to rest on her hips.

Parting from the kiss to get some air, a small string of saliva hinting on the so recent kiss. Hercules, now completely relaxed, sighed resting his forehead against hers. "That ... That was weird" y/n chuckled again kneading his biceps gently. "Hmm, you'll probably like my juice more.... But I'm a little pent up so maybe later" she said as she moved from his lap. Y/n pulled up the skirt of her lingerie and pulled down her lace panties. Hercules turned his gaze to the side, being the gentleman he is. ...And not really mentally ready for what's to come.

Y/n grabbed his surprisingly still hard dick and aligned the tip with her soaking entrance as she straddled him again. "Sh-Shouldn't we use the protection?" Y/n's eyebrows flew up, her eyes meeting his in surprised gaze. Then smiling brightly hugging his neck and kissed his cheeks and lips repeatedly "That's why I love you! You're not like all the others!" Y/n hopped down and grabbed one, out of many, condoms from the drawer near the bed. Ripping the cover and slowly wrapping the condom on Hercules's manhood. Once finished she hopped on his lap once again and slowly sheathing him inside. Hercules let out a surprised hiss, eyebrows knitting together his blue eyes now tightly shut. Y/n moved her hips from side to side slightly to adjust to his length faster.

"AH, w-wai-- !!" Hercules grabbed her by her hips, stopping her movement. "Y-You're too tight!" He sighed out, resting his forehead on her shoulder, wrapping his arms around her, his thighs shaking. Y/n waited for her lover to calm down again, gently rubbing his wide shoulders till she felt him move his hips upwards slightly. She pulled his face from her neck, moving his head till their eyes met. With that her lower body moved, slowly at first spreading her love juice around the thin wrap hugging Hercules's length. Hercules's hands holding Y/n's hips slid down to her ass, lifting her body effortlessly, opposite way to his thrusts. Gaining speed with every thrust, the room was filled with their mixed breathless moans and groans.

A small drop of sweat slid down his neck all the way to the pecks on his stomach. Y/n followed the drop with her eyes, feeding on the movement of his muscles with every labored breath. She was fascinated in Hercules' improvisation skills, maybe he was really just shy. Y/n moved her hands from his shoulders. One entangling with his low ponytail, slowly pulling on the band to free his ginger hair, and eventually resting her palm on the back of his neck. The other slid down his heaving chest, shifting the direction as soon as she reatched his bellybutton. Her hand gently held his on one of her butt cheeks.

"A-Are you ok?" Heracles asked breathlessly. It was hard to concentrate on more stimulants at once but her holding his hand may have meant he was doing something wrong. He needed to check. Y/n only chuckled giving him a kiss on his neck. "No, just hold on now baby" it took a second for Heracles to hear the meaning of her words. But by the time he could ask what she meant his hands released her bottom and his back hit the mattress. Her small delicate palms holding his down beside his head. With wide eyes he looked up, meeting her e/c irises. The smirk on her face was devilish. Her eyes nearly glowing in the dark.

"Hold on ok, big boy" with that she bounced on his lap with such speed and force Hercules though he'd pass out. Despite being much stronger, Hercules felt weak, literally under the command of his girlfriend. The coil in his stomach snapped before he could even register it's approach. With a quick movement of his hands he grabbed Y/n's arms and turned them both around. Now with him on top, Heracles stopped, emptying himself in the condom, hiding his head in her neck. He gasped for oxygen, tired and drained but still held himself up, not to crush Y/n with his weight. "Y-You did not.... D-did you?" he asked quietly, Y/n chuckled patting his back. "It's okey, it's your first time after all" she said with a gentle smile, Hercules moved from her neck looking at her face then down between her legs, where his cock still rested in her warmth. Blush returning to his ears he slowly pulled out, making sure to catch everything before spilling. He pondered for a second deciding what to do with it till Y/n smiled again and gently took the full condom from his hands and tied it shut, throwing it out into the bin next to get bed. Heracles' blush was constantly present as he turned Y/n to face him. He kissed her gently and lovingly. With their lips still touching he said "But I want you to feel good too"

His fingers moved between her legs. Y/n laughed and kissed just below his lips, "I love you so much" Hercules smiled "And I you" they both chuckled as Y/n palmed his hand against her womanhood, guiding his fingers.

"My lovely gladiator"

#shuumatsu no valkyrie #record of ragnarok smut #snv x reader #record of ragnarok #record of ragnarok x reader #x reader smut #ror heracles #snv heracles

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userlando · 2 years

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✧･ﾟ 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 (𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐡)

billy hargrove x female!reader [4.6k] summary ⤍ all your friends had more or less gained more sexual experience over the summer. asking billy hargrove to help you out might not be the best idea, but you’re running out of options. warnings ⤍ 18+ (minors dni) petname use, explicit language, explicit smut, kissing, semi-public sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms, hair pulling. a/n ⤍ so i couldn’t resist writing more billy. again, this isn’t canon billy so keep that in mind. thank you for all your love on my last fic, please consider leaving feedback and lmk what you thought of this. also, here’s a gifset that sparked this idea :) i haven’t proof read this since it’s 4am now and i wrote this on my phone, sorry. ily <3

“Do you wanna have sex with me?” Isn’t what you ever expected to ask Billy Hargrove. Especially by the public pools that he was supposed to be guarding.

He’d been sitting high up in his lifeguard chair, smacking his chewing gum enticingly with his eyes alert on every kid in and around the pools and opening his mouth to bark at the occasional running kid. You’d been watching him from afar, sitting up in your chaise lounge with your book half forgotten in your lap as you half-listened to your friends close by.

It wasn’t that surprising that sex was the topic of conversation, as it had been for the most part these past few weeks of the summer. Two of your friend group consisting of five had lost their virginities, and the other’s had somehow managed to score boyfriends. It wasn’t unusual or even weird, seeing as you were all on the cheerleading squad and more popular than you’d like to think about.

It irked you a little bit though, because sex had never been a big issue in your life until this summer. You had focused all you had on your grades and your team seeing as you were the head cheerleader at school. Boys weren’t an issue, you’d had exactly one boyfriend (minus Josh from middle school) and you’d broken up with him after four months when you’d caught him cheating on you with another girl. He had been your first everything, but not your first orgasm.

The guys that did try to ask you out always got shot down, and you tried not to think too hard about why that was your first instinct. Maybe you were still feeling the after effects of being cheated on, or maybe dating in general didn’t excite you as the average high schooler. Your friends called you a prude, and somehow that was the reputation you’d gained in school. The pristine, virginal and sweet cheerleader whom could not be conquered.

They weren’t too far off.

The girls were still chattering as you zoned out, and you caught some words that definitely weren’t meant to be said out loud where kids could hear. Your eyes scanned the pool, eyes squinting in the harsh sunlight until they landed on the lifeguard chair. Or more specifically, Billy.

You didn’t know why your brain conjured the outrageous idea up so fast. Maybe it was because your friends were discussing their boyfriend’s lengthy dicks or maybe you were feeling fed up with being excluded from those conversations. But you found your legs standing and moving before you could think twice of it, throwing a mumbled be right back over your shoulder.

Billy and you had exchanged maybe a full on sentence in your entire lives. You’d see each other at school and you’d once caught him smoking a joint in the girls bathroom. It had flustered you so much so that you’d backed out with a whispered sorry, not even wondering twice about why he was even in the girls bathroom to begin with.

Maybe that’s why Billy had the reaction he did when you stopped right below him. His eyebrows jumped on his forehead as you looked at each other, and you couldn’t read his face more than that thanks to his sunglasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. But you imagined that he was quite surprised and a little lost.

“Hey, gorgeous.” He greeted you, voice like molten lava. It wasn’t hard to figure out why every girl and occasional boy were falling over their feet to get in his bed. He had quite the reputation.

You fought off the feeling of oh my god what in the world am I doing, raising your head to look him in the eye with more bravery than you felt.

“Can we talk?” You asked, sounding more nervous than you would’ve liked.

His interest was piqued though and you took a step back when he began climbing down the chair. You blinked slowly when he faced you, suddenly feeling tongue tied and ten times more jittery. He was a lot taller than you expected, smelling strongly of cologne and cigarette smoke as he pushed his hair back from his forehead. It was damp with perspiration, skin a little sun kissed from spending so many hours under the sun.

“So?” He trailed off, dragging out the vowel.

You let out a shuddered sigh, giving him a nervous smile that he returned with bewilderment. You didn’t blame him, the two of you had absolutely nothing to talk about. You ran in different circles and it was hard to believe you had anything in common.

“I know this is weird, it kinda is. I mean, we don’t know each other and —“ your rambling got cut off with a noise of thinly veiled annoyance.

Billy yanked his sunglasses off and you shut your mouth because holy shit. His eyes were strikingly blue up close, framed by long eyelashes that you couldn’t help but deeply admire. The sudden eye contact almost had your knees knocking together.

“Is there a reason you’re here?” He asked, not rudely. But it was clear he was losing patience. Or maybe he was losing interest.

So, you decided to bite the bullet and just come out with it, “Do you wanna have sex with me?”

The silence was deafening and the rest of the world fell off as your eyes darted between his. He didn’t give you anything, no twitch on his face nor did he laugh or scoff. You didn’t know what to expect, but the silence had you wishing the ground would open up and swallow you whole.

“Oh god,” you whispered, bringing your hands up to your face in mortification as the quiet dragged on for a beat too long and you’d gotten a moment to realise what you’d said. “I’m so sorry, I don’t— I don’t know why I asked that.”

You contemplated walking back and grabbing your things, just so you could get out and never set foot here again. It would be difficult to avoid him in the hallways and in classes, but your ego was too bruised to even care about the logistics. Hell, you had half a mind to drive straight back home and beg your parents to move to a different state.

“I’m gonna go,” you huffed out a laugh that sounded a lot like shame and tacked on, for good measure, “sorry.”

Before you could turn around and do your walk of shame, Billy had reached out and circled his fingers around your wrist. You looked down at his grip, too afraid to look at his face or any other part of him.

“Hold on,” Billy sounded neutral, voice a tad bit strained as he rocked back on his feet in contemplation. “Why are you asking me this?”

Not only did you just embarrass yourself, now he wanted an explanation. The thought of it made you screw your face up in a grimace, closing your eyes as if you could close them from the wave of shame you felt crashing into you like violent waves.

“I don’t know.” You replied finally, voice small. “I guess I’m tired of feeling like an outcast.”

Billy’s startled laugh had you whipping your head up, glaring at him and he reached both hands up to his side in apology. He didn’t look very apologetic though, just amused.

“Sorry, I just— outcast, you said? You’re the head cheerleader.”

You crossed your arms over your chest in defence, ignoring his eyes jumping to the movement before he glanced back at your face. “So? That doesn’t mean I jump into bed with everyone.”

His lips stretched into a slow smirk that almost made you squirm, but you stood your ground and tried to look as harsh as possible. It didn’t seem to work, judging by Billy’s face, but you didn’t let it deter you.

“Nah,” his tongue poked the inner side of his cheek. “I’ve heard the opposite. You’re quite a hard catch, sweetheart.”

It made you cringe, the apples of your cheeks burning and you tried to tell yourself it was because of the way he was indirectly calling you a prude and not because he’d just called you sweetheart. Who gave him the right to be so smooth and confident?

“My friends have all… gained more experience. And I feel a little left out.” You wrung your hands together as you offered your explanation, glancing around to check that no one was listening.

It didn’t seem like it, thankfully. Kids were still swimming and dunking each other under water. You imagined that if Billy had been paying more attention, he would’ve cussed them out. But alas...

Billy sighed, clearly a little agitated as he ran his fingers through his tousled hair. His eyes glanced around, settling on something over your shoulder and you didn’t have to look behind you to see that he was looking at your friends. You cringed internally at the thought of them, knowing they’d have a million questions as to why you were speaking to Billy Hargrove of all people. You were as different as two people possibly could be. At least in social status.

“Sorry, sweetheart. I don’t fuck virgins.” His words jarred you, and you took a step back in shock.

The way he said it so bluntly almost made you recoil entirely. This entire situation was starting to seem so laughable.

“What? No!” You frowned. “I’m not a virgin.”

Billy looked confused now, “Then what the fuck are you asking me?”

The absurdity of it all almost made you laugh.

“I just need…” you trailed off. “Experience, I guess.”

Billy looked around, eyes faraway as he contemplated what you were asking of him. You didn’t blame him, it was a bizarre thing to ask of someone you barely knew.

“Alright,” his eyes looked you up and down, smirk crawling onto his face. “I get off in thirty minutes, meet me in the lobby by then.”

That had you pausing, eyebrows almost touching your hairline as you opened your mouth and closed it. You hadn’t expected him to say yes, but you certainly didn’t expect him to also want to do it today. Now? You weren’t ready, had hardly thought it through when you propositioned him. And what were you going to tell your friends?

“Wait, you want to do it now?” You hated how inexperienced and innocent you sounded, but your nerves were alight.

Billy squinted his eyes, the blue of his eyes almost disappearing behind his lids as he sucked his pink bottom lip into his mouth before releasing it. “I’m sorry, did you wanna schedule a session?”

You felt heat crawl up your neck, managing a shake of the head as you took a step back.

“Thirty minutes.” You said breathlessly.

The walk back to your friends was on autopilot, but your mind was running a mile a minute and you were sure your legs were gonna collapse from underneath you. You didn’t know what to expect, or how to feel about it all.

“What the hell?” One of your friends exclaimed when you plopped down on your lounge chair. You almost nodded because, yeah, what the hell?

The thirty minutes felt like days, as you sat in your chair. Your legs were crossed, book open in your lap but you were too anxious to really read. The words were all jumbled and your eyes were flicking over to the other side of the pool area. Billy was in his usual element and if he felt even half of the anxiety you were feeling, then he was a damn good actor. His posture was too relaxed, and he looked calmer than you felt.

You pretended not to look as another lifeguard padded out to where Billy was climbing down the ladder. They exchanged a few words and then Billy was walking away. You couldn’t look away as he passed you, and when your eyes briefly met, you quickly averted your gaze with warmth creeping up your face.

He disappeared into the building, and you gave it exactly two minutes before you told your friends you’d hit the restrooms. You didn’t give them a chance to say anything, getting out of your chair and walking briskly the way Billy had gone.

It was empty in the lobby area, everyone outside basking in the sun instead of sitting indoors. Heather was manning the reception, head down as she scribbled in a notepad. She looked bored and you sidestepped out of her field of view in fear that she’d spot you and strike up a conversation.

You felt his presence before you saw him.

“Come with me.” Billy grabbed your hand, pulling you along as he began walking down a narrow hallway.

You silently followed him, trying not to think too hard about how warm his hand was as it engulfed yours or how nicely his back muscles moved beneath his black top. His hair was curly and frizzy, looking a little dry from all the chlorine water and sunshine. He smelled like chlorine too, but it was more pleasant than one would expect.

It took you a moment to realise that he had stopped outside a door the furthest away from the lobby and you felt your eyebrows scrunch in a frown when he unlocked the door and pushed it open; Revealing a supply closet. It was big, cluttered and smelt weird.

Billy didn’t seem to mind much though, pulling you inside and closing the door behind you. The darkness blanketed the room for a second before the boy flicked the switch. You blinked to get used to the dim light, turning around to look at Billy. Your heart was racing and the small sense of bravado you were feeling earlier had been extinguished as you stood in front of the unruly haired boy. He seemed to be contemplating you, eyes roaming your figure before he took a step forward.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked, voice low enough that you felt it in the pit of your abdomen.

You almost shook your head, because kissing was romantic and intimate and this was anything but that. But you looked in his eyes, gaze dropping to his lips and you found yourself nodding your consent because they looked too inviting not to taste.

He didn’t waste time, fingers sliding over the sides of your throat and into your hair as he crowded your space. You stepped with him when he walked you backwards, pushing your body into a shelf. The impact had your mouth open in a gasp, but he swooped forward to swallow the sound. You moaned in surprise, eyes fluttering closed at the taste of minty gum and cigarette smoke.

Billy was a lot of things, and a good kisser was one of them. Sure, you didn’t have much experience but it didn’t take a genius to recognise a person who knew what he was doing. His lips moved with purpose, tilting your head with the help of his hands as he slowly explored your mouth. His nose pressed into your cheek, little puffs of breath escaping him. He pulled at your hair a little too hard and you unexpectedly moaned into his mouth at the pleasurable pain.

Your stomach was clenching and turning, heart beating so fast that you were afraid he’d be able to feel it when he pressed his chest against yours. If he did, he said nothing of it as he instead pried your mouth open wider for him to taste your tongue. He licked and sucked, his hands leaving your hair to explore your body. You were thankful to still be in your bikini, because it allowed you to feel the heat of his hands as they grabbed and pinched at the skin of your body.

“Good?” He asked breathlessly against your lips, pulling away a bit to look into your eyes.

He grinned wickedly at what he saw on your face; Eyes dazed and blown with lust, lips kissed raw. Billy didn’t know you, but it was clear that you were inexperienced and he intended to have your knees trembling and your voice hoarse before he let you walk out of the supply closet.

“Good.” You echoed, lips touching his when you nodded.

He couldn’t help but feel a small pang of endearment at the sight of you, hurrying to catch your lips in another filthy kiss before his mind strayed too far into unknown territory.

Your chest burned at the lack of oxygen you were getting, but you had no intention of slowing down because your bikini bottoms were getting damp with your slick and that was something new. A person had never had that effect on you. You didn’t even know it was possible to orgasm without the help of your hands and here you were now, turned on beyond belief just because someone was kissing you.

“Fuck, such a good girl,” Billy dragged his lips to your jaw, sucking and licking down your neck and between your tits. He paused a moment to pull back and reach his hands out to grab a handful of them. The action had you gasping, arching into his hold as he swiped his thumbs over your puckered nipples. “Oh baby, someone’s been neglecting you, hm?”

Your face burned at his words, a small whimper tumbling out of your mouth when he grabbed the flimsy material of your cups and pulled them down. Your hands automatically went up to hide your chest from him, but Billy tutted and grabbed both of your hands with a laugh.

“Billy—“ you turned your head up to stare at the ceiling in embarrassment.

“They’re so pretty, sweetheart, look at you.”

His voice had you squirming, pressing your thighs together and Billy almost groaned at the sight. His hands kneaded at your tits, sucking your right nipple into your mouth with a wet noise. His eyes were trained on your face, silently willing you to look back down so you could see how fucking starved he was for you.

The idea of fucking you was something that had passed his mind many times before. At those silly pep rallies, when you walked down the hallway with your friends in your uniform. Hell, he’d fantasise about bending you over and pulling at your ponytail in the classes he did attend. But those were fantasies, nothing more.

He could hardly believe that you were here, tits on display and his mouth suckling on you like a depraved man. He was quick to switch buds, giving it the same treatment before he kissed his way down your stomach. It was heaving, a clear indication that you were turned on beyond belief and something about that had Billy feeling absolutely feral. Fuck, he could smell you from where he was crouched in front of you.

His hands stroked your calves, up your legs before they stopped on your thighs. You whined into the room, bucking your hips a little when he stopped moving.

“Hey,” his voice broke the tense silence. “Look at me.”

You closed your mouth, swallowing as you glanced down at him. He was on his knees, pupils blown wide with lust and lips looking extra pink in the dim light. His cheeks were flushed, a light smattering of red and it looked way better on him than you wanted to admit.

“Tell me, sweetheart,” his voice was teasing, deliciously seductive. “Has anyone ever made you come?”

You rolled your hips at his words, feeling way too turned on to keep yourself together as you whined. It felt like you’d actually die if he didn’t touch you soon. Billy didn’t care though, he expected an answer and he pinched your thighs harshly in retaliation

“Answer me, pretty girl.” He coaxed. “Has anyone ever eaten this little pussy out?”

You felt like you were burning up from the inside when you looked down at him, shaking your head bashfully. “No.”

Billy frowned then, because fuck what a shame. And he voiced that out loud. “That’s a damn shame. You look so pretty like this, and you haven’t even come on my mouth yet.”

That got a moan out of you.

“Please, please,” your voice was small, needy. You were beyond caring about shame or anything other than his hands on you.

Billy danced his fingers up your thighs, touching your pussy over the material of your bikini bottoms. He felt a zap of arousal down his spine when he felt the bump of your swollen clit beneath his finger. You shuddered violently when he pressed the pad of his finger down against your nub, grin forming on his lips.

“Please, what?” He whispered, leaning forward to kiss your hip.

“Please, touch me.”

He didn’t waste anymore time, hooking his fingers into your bottoms and yanking them down your legs. He tapped your calf, urging you to step out of them and you were quick to obey. Billy grinned at your eagerness, fingers finding your center and spreading your lips open. You gasped at the sudden cool air on your slick pussy, rearing your hips back.

He grunted and grabbed a hold of your hip with one hand to pull you forward. You went willingly, mouth dropping open in a silent moan when he leaned forward and sealed his mouth on your cunt.

It was a new feeling, having someone’s mouth on you like this. Your ex-boyfriend had only ever fingered you before he fucked you, and you’d never managed to orgasm with him. Yet here you were, Billy’s mouth licking and sucking on your most sensitive area and your legs were trembling.

It felt like you were falling into the abyss, mind far away and mouth gapping open in silent moans and harsh intakes of breath. You tried to keep eye contact with the boy between your legs, but then he’d suck on or flick your clit with his tongue and you’d throw your head back.

The noises he was making were absolutely obscene, and it lit your nerves up like never before. He was moaning like a starved man, tongue digging into your hole and nose touching your clit so deliciously that you felt the telltale signs of an orgasm incoming.

You let go of the shelf with one hand to grip Billy’s hair, the softness of it grounding you for exactly two seconds before you were starting to make these needy, high pitched noises at the back of your throat. Billy loved it, but you were still in public and you were getting a little too loud. He pulled his mouth away from you, sliding a finger into you instead to keep you skating right on the edge of your orgasm.

“You need to be quiet sweetheart,” he whispered, mirroring your movement when you looked back down to nod at him. He wasn’t even sure you were fully listening to him, judging by the fucked out expression on your face. “Can you do that? Be quiet for me?”

You hummed, a dragged out mmm sound that went up in pitch when he crooked his finger up into the spongy spot, returning his mouth to solely focus on your clit. He ate you out eagerly, listening for sound cues and upping his speed when you bucked your hips into him. His scalp was on fire with how you were pulling at his hair, trying to get him as close to you as humanly possible, but he loved it. Billy was so hard in his shorts that he was sure he’d bust if he got a hand around himself.

He clasped a hand on one of your butt cheeks to pull you into him, and you don’t know why that did it for you. But your mouth opened into a silent scream as you shuddered through your orgasm; Pushing yourself into him as your vision blacked out.

Billy was humming into you, creating little vibrations against your clit that was rapidly growing more sensitive the longer he stayed licking on it. You moaned weakly, head lolling forward to find him staring at you.

“Mmm, hurts,” you rasped, jerking when he sucked on your sensitive bud. “Billy—“

“One more, sweetheart. Give me one more.” He begged you, sliding a second finger into your dripping core.

You almost buckled, grabbing the shelf behind you with both hands to keep yourself upright. The aftershocks faded the longer Billy licked and fucked you on his fingers, a familiar tingling returning as he started pickling up speed.

“Oh Billy,” you moaned, a touch too loud but you didn’t seem to care all to much as you started humping forwards.

Billy flushed, pleased with himself as he leaned back. His jaw was killing him so he replaced his tongue with his calloused thumb, rolling your clit underneath the pad of it like an expert.

“C’mon baby, let me see that pretty face.” He urged you on, fucking you harder and deeper with his fingers.

He didn’t expect you to buck your hips forward, throwing your head back and wail your orgasm out as you came on his hand. You were dripping, body trembling as it tilted forward as if to chase his relentless hand on your pussy. He was in awe, eyes not straying from your sweaty face as you came down from your high, slowing his fingers down before he eventually pulled them out.

You gave away a small hitched moan at the emptiness, and Billy couldn’t help but reach forward to give your clit a little kiss. Your hips jumped at the small touch to your sensitive bud, and you heaved a weak moan.

“Good?” He asked, feeling and sounding quite pleased with himself.

You didn’t reply, still a little lost in your recovery. But that was answer enough for the boy as he slowly reached for your bikini bottoms, pulling them up your legs and mournfully covering your pussy once again. He got to his feet, knees protesting and back aching.

You looked sinfully good, your tits still on display and sweaty all over. Your hands were still grasping onto the shelf as you struggled to hold your weight up, and Billy grinned at that. He silently pulled your cups up over your chest, covering it before he stroked a stray of sweaty hair from your face.

You blinked your eyes open then, and Billy almost lost his breath when they focused on him. You’d been so disarmed during the whole session, relaxed and shameless. So, it was almost endearing to watch how you came back to the present, stumbling upright on shaky legs and face morphing into that shy expression you often donned.

“I can—“ you trailed off weakly, reaching a hand out to grab at his shorts. Billy gathered all the strength in the world to stop you, fingers once again circling your wrist. You blinked up at him, confusion written all over your face.

Billy was still hard, aching to come, but you were in absolutely no shape to reciprocate and he was fine with that. He’d just wait until he got home to rub one out, probably.

“No need,” he gave you a smile when you frowned. “We’ll save that for next time.”

He had expected you to scoff, to roll your pretty little eyes and say that there was no next time. But all you did was give him a slow, shy smile. “Okay.”

Next time. You could work with that.

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