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casiia · 1 year

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virgin!ethan landry buying condoms before attending a party with chad (idk this would be so funny and awkward😭😭😭)

[ 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐞 ੈ✩‧₊˚]

pairing .: ethan landry x reader

genre .: suggestive

word count .: 3k

warnings .: suggestive content (minors dni.), female reader, alcohol indulgence, dry humping

author's note .: SORRY NO SMUT! just a lot of plot! but i had soo much fun writing this, whoever requested this i think you’re so funny! i originally was going to add smut but lack of motivation. my little nerd boy psycho getting teased by shirtless farmer chad makes me giggle. but i hope you guys love this as much as i do because i’m giggling soso bad. also i don’t have a dick i’ve never bought condoms b4 so i tried my best errr. also also guys please b careful when drinking at parties. this is just a lot of plot and lowkey ethan x chad (im slash jay) but if enough people want it i will write smut in a part 2.

“wait why are you turning? we’re supposed to go down this street for another light.”

the muted sound of rain echoes inside the car; droplets of water splattering against the fogged windshield blurred the bright traffic lights, a mixture of green and red reflecting against the dash.

“pitstop. gotta pick up some stuff.” chad taps his fingers against the steering wheel impatiently – waiting for the light to turn green. his thumb smooths over the grooves that were engraved in the leather, frustration threatening to expose from his composed state. “get the fuck off your phone! go, the light is green.”

“pick up stuff? not drugs, right…?” ethan looks up from his phone, his illuminated screen lighting his features from the shadows of the night. with a buzz, he focuses his attention back to his device. a smile graces his lips as he reads over your notification, fingers moving quick to type a response to you.

“no, not drugs. condoms.”

adjusting the seat belt that suddenly became uncomfortable around his neck, ethan swallows thickly, a blush creeping onto his cheeks. “oh.”

“i mean, you’re gonna need them. i doubt nothing’s gonna happen between you and her tonight.” pulling into the lot, chad cheekily smiles over to his friend, playfully hitting his arm.

“w-what? we aren’t anything serious, i don’t think she looks at me like that.” leaning towards the window to escape chad’s ruthless teasing, he resisted the urge to check the notification that had vibrated his phone – knowing it was from you.

“she definitely does, she’s always giving you that look.” throwing his hands up in gratitude when he found a parking spot, chad carefully pulled into the tight spot. “you guys are so annoying, everyone can see it but you two.”

“what look?” unbuckling his seat belt with a click, ethan chews on his bottom lip to stop the smile that threatened to show on his face.

“the ‘i want to fuck you’ look.” turning the engine off with the twist of a key, chad unbuckles and climbs out of the car. “just fuck already, what’s stopping you.” watching ethan take off the cardboard helmet of his costume, he chuckles lightly. “i mean, she wants to fuck a guy dressed up as a cardboard robot.”

“hey. it’s from that movie murder party, and maybe put on a shirt before you comment on my costume.” opening the passenger door, ethan reaches into the back seat, grabbing a plain white tank and tossing it to the shirtless farmer standing in the drizzling rain.

“oh right.”

“i don’t think there is a ‘fuck me look’ i think you’re thinking way into things.” stepping out and shutting the door, ethan stuffs his phone and wallet into his back pocket, walking towards the pharmacy with long strides to avoid the rain.

“what would you know, you’re a virgin.” locking the car with a loud beep, chad swings his lanyard around his fingers, letting his keys jangle against each other carelessly. laughing loudly when he catches a glimpse of ethan’s shocked expression, he holds his hands out in reassurance. “well i mean, after tonight you won’t be.”

“i’m not gonna do anything with her unless she wants me to.” walking past the automated doors, he waits for chad to walk in front of him, not wanting to waste time and lead the two into the wrong aisle.

“well of course, but it’s better to be safe than sorry at the end of the night. don’t wanna get her pregnant or anything.” chad grins, walking towards an aisle in the back – almost too easily, like he’s been here a million times.

“right. how do you…put one on?” glancing at the many colorful boxes to his left, he clears his throat when turning to his right, staring at the shelf of the pregnancy test.

“open the wrapper, careful not to rip it that’s important, then just slide it on. if it’s that much trouble just ask the girl.” chad hums to the music playing overhead in the store, squatting down to get a peak at the bottom shelves.

“oh, okay. what about lube, think i’ll need that?” eyeing the different brands of condoms, he feels his phone buzz again, the weight of his phone all of a sudden feeling heavy in his pants.

2 messages from angel girl

ethan smiles at the notifications, quickly swiping into his phone to answer you. warmth bubbles in his chest as he replies, watching his message turn from sent to read in just a second.

“hey, are you listening to me?”

“huh?” looking up from his phone, his smile drops, snapping out of his dazed state.

“i said, lube is a waste of money. just use spit, works the same if you can also get her wet.” picking up a box of magnums, chad stands from his squatted position, patting out the creases in his pants before heading to the register. “there’s nothing to be worried about, bro. just make sure you focus when it happens, stay in the moment. the usual.”

“mhm.” now very anxious, ethan trails behind his roommate with twisted fingers. “maybe i should take the costume off?” picking at the hem of his shirt under the cardboard vest, he laughs awkwardly; imagining you taking his ridiculous costume off before climbing under the blankets had him shaking his head.

“maybe just keep the helmet, can’t not dress up at a halloween party.” grabbing his wallet from his pocket once they reached the self checkout machines, he scanned the box before swiping his card. “we should go, mindy’s been on my ass.”

the two of them ran to the car, seeking shelter from the rain that turned from a light drizzle to a thundering pour. ethan ran his hands through his hair, combing his damp brown hair out of his face. leaning back into the leather seat with a huff, he groaned dragging his hands down his cheeks, the cardboard around his chest stiffening his movements.

slipping his arms into the cut out holes, he shimmied the fake armor over his head and let it clumsily fall into the back seat. memories of you and him making the costume made him frown; he thought back to how pretty you look with ruffled hair, sitting on his bedroom floor in only pajamas, cutting away at the cardboard material with kid scissors, cursing at him when he accidentally cut out of the traced lines.

the loud crinkle of plastic strips him of his thoughts, chad loudly tearing into the box. “take a few. i’m just gonna leave the box in the car…for later.”

“think you’re gonna end up with tara tonight?” ethan teases with a smirk. picking at the golden packs, he holds them up to the window, letting the plastic shine against the dull streetlight.

“shut up, now strap in. we’re already late i cannot take another text from mindy.”

the far-off sound of music caught ethan’s attention as chad pulled into the neighborhood, a variety of cars piled into the driveway and along the street, lights flashing from the windows inside the house.

grabbing his poorly made helmet made of cardboard, he slipped it over his head, making sure it sat comfortably and evenly on top of his hair.

“did tara tell you what she was gonna wear?” checking his phone for your notification, ethan frowned slightly when finding out you had left him on read. he was only a few paces from the house, where he would soon find you. although the more he thought of you, the more the nerves began to eat at him. would you even want to sleep with him, what if he was going to make a fool of himself – what if you friendzoned him. rubbing his forehead with a sigh, he stuffed a few condoms into his pockets, his heart beating out of his chest.

“pirate i think, wanted to match but it was too last minute. what about your girl?” making sure the car was locked after they had got out, chad shoves his keys into his pants, letting the lanyard hang within view.

“she didn’t want to tell me, said it was gonna be a surprise.” feeling his heartbeat in his ears, ethan balled his fist tightly, fingernails digging into the palms of his hands. he didn’t want to mess things up with you, he was scared – scared that he would mess things up and lose the best person that had ever shown up in his life.

“relax, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“i’m trying, i’m just nervous. i don’t want things to go the wrong way tonight, what if i misread her.” stopping outside the door, he could hear the roar of music, walls vibrating with each base drop. the faint smell of marijuana and alcohol tickled his nose, his face churning immediately at the unpleasant smell.

“whatever happens is for a reason, don’t make sex your first priority. if she wants to fuck you, which im sure she does, she’ll make it clear. stop worrying.” chad places a hand on the brunette’s shoulder, squeezing comfortably.

“right. make sure i don’t drink too much? i actually want to remember this night.” taking one last deep breath, ethan turns the knob on the door, finally arriving at the party. an overwhelming amount of people crowded the kitchen, abandoned red solo cups lingering all over the house.

pushing through the crowd of people with curt apologies, ethan scanned over the horde of tipsy college students, looking for your face in the midst of it all. relaxing a bit when he saw anika in the corner of the room with mindy, he glanced over his shoulder to see if chad was following him before nudging his way through to his friends across the room.

“where have you guys been? i thought we agreed to be here 45 minutes ago!” mindy throws exasperated hands in the air, eyebrows raised mockingly.

“traffic. where’s y/n?” frowning when he didn’t see you amongst the other girls, he turned back to the kitchen to see if you were stuffed in there.

“she was here a second ago.i think she went to ask tara if she knew where you were, but honestly who knows where that little pirate could be.” anika shrugs lightly at the question, repositioning her legs over her girlfriend’s. “what’s going on with you two anyways?”

“noth-”

“ethan?”

spinning on his heel at the sound of your voice, he can’t help but let a smile paint his lips. his voice catching in his throat when he sees you, he drops his arms to his side. jaw dropping ever so slightly, he couldn’t stop the way he looked you up and down, engraving your image in the back of his mind.

you were head to toe in white; high socks that squeezed the fat of your thighs, a white mini skirt that just barely covered the curve of your ass, a semi see through corset, and to top it all off – a pair of small feathery wings that sat on your exposed shoulders.

“an angel.”

“surprise! where’s the rest of your costume? we worked so hard on it.” stepping closer to him to fix his lopsided helmet, you brushed hair out of his eyes with a pout.

“left it in the car, didn’t want it to get ruined or anything.” looking down at you with a smile, he lets his hands wander to your hips; his thumbs caressing your skin just above the waistline of your short mini skirt.

“oh, that’s a shame. you looked so cute in it.” pinching his cheeks in a playful manner, you bit your lip with a laugh, watching him squirm away from you. “let’s get a drink, i’ve been waiting for you.”

grabbing his hand in your left, you intertwined your fingers together, pulling him to the crowded kitchen. half filled bottles and empty plastic cups littered the marble countertop, a sticky residue sheening over the surface of the table.

“hm, i think there’s enough for a couple shots.”

letting go of his hand but still keeping him close, you leaned over the island to grab cups; unscrewing the cap of a half empty vodka bottle, you chewed your lip in concentration, completely eyeballing the amount of liquor you poured into the plastic cup.

“bottoms up, baby!” bringing the cup up to your lips, you cringed lightly, the smell of alcohol making your eyes water. squeezing your eyes shut tightly, you tilted your head back letting the liquid flow into your mouth before swallowing. shaking your head with a groan, you stuck your tongue out feeling the booze burn down your throat, almost instantly warming your chest. “so gross.”

ethan hesitated before drinking the foul smelling alcohol, coughing abruptly afterwards. “not worth it.” hearing you laugh at him, he teasingly shoved your shoulder with a soft smile. “do you think…we could talk?”

“we’re talking right now, pretty boy.” starting to pour another round of shots, you briefly glanced up at him at his silence. “is something wrong?”

“nothing’s wrong, i just meant talk in private.” taking off his fake helmet, he nervously rubbed the back of his neck – patiently waiting for you to finish taking another shot before replying.

“let’s go upstairs.” wiping your lips with the back of your hand, you tossed your now empty cups in the trash before grabbing his wrist and pulling him through the house. music blaring uncomfortably in your ear, you took in your surroundings before leaving; people at every inch of the house, a line forming for the bathroom, corners where couples made out, and a couch where all of your friends sat. catching chad’s eye, he gave you a knowing smirk while raising his eyebrows. flipping him off in return, you squeezed ethan’s wrist lightly, guiding him up the stairs and to an empty bedroom.

ethan tried his hardest not to look up your skirt while you walked in front of him, but of course he failed. he caught a glimpse of your undergarments – pretty pink panties with a white lace lining the edges. swallowing his guilt, he shifted his gaze back to the ground, fearing that he would get worked up the longer he stared. “do you know where you’re going?”

“not in the slightest, but it’s a big house, there’s bound to be one more vacant bedroom.” jiggling the knobs of each door, you giggled quietly hearing the muted moans from inside occupied rooms. “oh here.” twisting the handle and peeking inside, you opened the door for him when deeming it was clear.

closing and locking the door behind you, you made your way over to the bed, sitting on the edge with your hands neatly folded in your lap. “what’s on your mind? you’re kinda scaring me.”

dropping his costume prop near the door, ethan covered his face, groaning into his hands before finally piling up enough courage to look you in the eye. “what are we?”

“what do you mean?” furrowing your brows with an awkward laugh, you could feel heat creep up your neck, the liquor settling in your stomach.

“you’re always calling me these names, and touching me in ways you don’t do with anyone else. i just want to know if you’re playing with me.” sitting next to you on the bed, he kept a fair distance respecting your boundaries. “i like you a lot. more than i want to, i need to know if you feel the same.”

“i-” sighing loudly with shaky hands, you shifted your position, sitting on your knees while facing him. the hem of your skirt creeping up your thighs as you sat back. “i like you too, i just didn’t know how to tell you.” crawling closer to him, you reached for his hand, pressing his palm to your heart. “this is how you make me feel. all the time.”

“can i kiss you?”

nodding with a big grin, you let him lean forward to connect your lips. putting a hand on his shoulder to stabilize yourself, you hummed softly feeling him pull you closer, straight into his lap. the kiss was sweet and soft, lips moving slowly against each other, teeth clashing together with inexperience. you wrapped your arms around his neck, slightly grinding your hips down into his. “fuck, sorry.”

whining into your mouth, ethan squeezed your hips harshly. “no, please. again, m’felt good.” pulling away from your lips with a heavy pant, he cupped your face, thumb smoothing over your cheekbone.

“yeah? s’that why you brought me up here?” giggling, you rolled your hips again, the seam of his pants nudging at your clothed clit. lips parting with a quiet moan, you bit the inside of your cheek, a blush painting your cheeks.

“maybe.” tilting your head up with his thumb, he pressed kisses down your exposed neck, nibbling and sucking numerous marks along the way. “fuck, i want you.” slipping his hand down your back, he squeezed the fat of your ass, mumbling against your neck.

“i know, baby. but not tonight.” pushing him away just enough to see his face, you pressed a sweet kiss to the button of his nose. “want your first time to be something you’ll remember, not even a little bit fuzzy.”

opening his mouth in protest, you shook your head – your opinion already set in stone. pecking his lips one last time, you climbed off of his lap.

“you’re such a tease”

🏷 .:@loaksbitch @sullybby @dilfverz my stinkies

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photmath · 5 months

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Secret Santa | Trent Alexander-Arnold

Pairing: Trent Alexander-Arnold x Female Reader

Summary: A Secret Santa exchange leads to a rekindling relationship.

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: BLOWJOB (18+), secret santa/christmas themes, situationship somewhat, cursing, idiots in love, soft trent

Note: I had massive brain fog and covid while writing a good chunk of this so sorry, also wanted to have it posted before christmas but when have I ever posted something on time. Happy Holidays and readings!

As the night winded down, the group of friends were already thinking about their next hangout, you just happened to be there as they begged you to join in on their Secret Santa exchange.

“Oh come on, it’d be an even number with you!” Sara chimes, you swigging the chilled drink in your hand.

“You don’t need an even number for Secret Santa,” you correct and the boys let out a tut.

“Just this once, there’s a budget,” Jude begs, his beady eyes widening. “It’s thirty bucks.”

You roll your eyes bashfully, “Okay, count me in then.”

Your eyes don’t mean to land on Trent but they do anyway. He’s tucked into the sofa next to Jude, his mouth covered with the red cup he has resting on his bottom lip. His locs stop just above his eyebrow, and the black hoodie he has on looks comforting. You two maintain eye contact until he looks down.

Ben gathers everyone’s emails before you and Sara head out for the night. You had rode with Sara, living in the same apartment complex, but she lags behind telling the others bye. You do the same, mumbling goodbyes and giving out sidehugs.

It had been a while since you hung out with them all at once again. After a year's worth of studies and the summer, you had kinda mingled away from the tight group of friends you were once a part of. It didn’t help that you and Trent had a huge fight that catalyzed you from stepping away from the group, and no one seemed to notice just how close you and Trent were for them to suspect it was because of him. He played a part in making you keep your distance, but you were also so much more busy than before. You had a demanding job while still having to manage your uni classes, so those late nights hanging out with them became scarce.

It was beginning to get chilly while you waited for Sara outside on the front patio. And just when you thought it was her stepping out of the front door, Trent came out and your shoulders sunk.

“So, you’re back,” he states, slipping the hood over his head and then shoving his fists into the jumper’s pocket.

You nod, “Yeah, looks like I got dragged into doing Secret Santa, sounds fun.”

“When are you leaving?” His voice is small, almost like he doesn’t want to know the answer but asks anyway.

Pulling your thin jacket tighter, you raise your hands, “Um, I’m waiting for Sara.”

“You aren’t gonna stay?”

“What do you mean?”

“The boys,” he points back into the apartment and scratches his head bleakly, “we’re having a sleepover. The other girls are staying, I mean if you want to.”

“Oh,” you say. You had heard about it but you definitely didn’t intend on staying over, not in their scary, germy apartment. Trent, Jude, Ben, and Aaron were great, but they desperately needed a deep clean. “Um, Sara isn’t staying though.”

He shakes his head, “Doesn’t mean you have to leave too.”

You narrow your eyes at him, he nonchalantly shrugs. “Would you be okay if I were to stay?”

He raises his hands up in surrender, “I’m just glad to see ya. It’s been a couple of months.”

“We saw each other last month.”

“We didn’t talk though,” Trent chirps, licking his bottom lip. “Come on, stay. Walk with me to my car, I have to get some blankets.”

“Do you think that’s a good idea, Trent?” you ask. It slips out of your mouth much more ominously than you intend.

He gives you a dubious look, “What? Think I can’t keep my hands to myself?”

“Trent!” you gasp. He grabs your arm and leads you down the stairs in front of his apartment. Your hand slips into the groove of his elbow, him locking your hand in place.

You two ended during the summer break, you deciding to put an end to the back and forth flings you both had going on. Sneaking around each other wasn’t hard to do, but denying you having feelings for him was. He didn’t feel the same, and wanted to keep what the two of you shared strictly between sex, but him singing songs in your ear while he’d be on the cusp of sleep, caressing your skin so tenderly afterward, and trying his best to cook breakfast for you in the morning or even late at night, it was hard not to fall in love with him. Especially when you would catch him across the room and he’d beam so brightly. He would be mid conversation with someone, but the moment he saw you, he was grinning ear to ear.

“I’m sure these blankets are really in your car,” you say sarcastically. There was always something in his car. It would be his way of sneaking you off for a quickie, but god were you in the mood to do that now? You couldn’t deny it, the idea of you sneaking off like old times did tug a heartstring but you couldn’t. Now was not the time to think with something other than your head.

Trent opens up the back seat of his car, revealing four neatly-rolled, holiday blankets, “Get your head out of the gutter, sweetheart.”

You roll your eyes, helping him grab two of them although he could carry all four. You hated just how nostalgic it felt to visit his car, his black Range Rover, its windows always fogged after the two of you stepped out of it. A part of you was glad that he didn’t try to do something while you were out here, but another part of you was…disappointed? Had he really moved on three months later? While you were left in sputtering sobs—

“Hey,” Trent calls out, his breath billowing out in front of him. He’s standing a couple of steps in front, looking back at you. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you muster and catch up to him, not realizing that you had stopped following him. The sound of his car locking rings through your ears as he wears a sincere smile while he waits. He lets you pass him to walk in front of him.

Sara is making her way down the stairs by the time you two arrive back, “Hey! Are you ready?”

“I changed my mind,” you smile meekly, “I think I’m going to stay.”

“Oh, okay!” Sara says, bringing you in for a hug. For a moment, you were glad of her agreeable personality because she wasn’t going to ask why you changed your mind and you weren’t sure what you’d say if she put you on the spot. You were staying because of friends, right? “I’ll see you in a week!”

Sara hugs Trent briefly and then the two of you make your way back upstairs quietly. Trent’s phone pings and you feel the buzz of your own phone in your pocket. The both of you pause to read the notification, an email from Ben with your Secret Santa assignments.

You raise an eyebrow at Trent as the both of you glance at each other. Unlocking your phone, you quickly find the email and open it, reading that you’re assigned Delilah. That should be easy, you knew her like the back of your hand.

“Who do you have?” he asks.

“It’s a secret.” Slipping your phone into your pocket, you peer up at him. He looks down at you with a smirk, his lips glistening from having just licked them. “Get chapstick or something.”

He chuckles, opening the door. Delilah and Ava are cuddled up on their sofa in their pajamas, their faces shocked but then quickly filled with excitement when they see you.

“You’re staying!” Ava cheers. The next movie they have lined up is How the Grinch Stole Christmas, a Christmas classic. And of course the only open two seats on the sofa is next to an unsuspecting Jude.

Trent hands out the blankets but keeps one to himself, plopping down in the spot next to you, unfolding it over the two of you. A part of you would’ve pushed away the blanket but even in your pajama pants you were cold.

“Thanks,” you mutter, ignoring the arm that lands over your shoulders. Trent was suddenly being a lot more vocal than he was earlier, maybe it was the confidence from the alcohol he had drank, but just two hours ago he had trouble looking at you.

It wasn’t awkward, but it was definitely a sudden switch. All it took was you almost leaving for him to chat with you like nothing happened.

Throughout the movie, you all laughed during the funny scenes, Jude nearly clutching onto you because of just how hilarious the Grinch was. Trent didn’t shy away from letting his arm fall and grasp your shoulder occasionally, but seriously, what was up with him? Earlier at his car it piqued you with interest to be talking to him, referencing the past, but now he seemed to be adamantly ignoring it.

Something sour bursts in your mouth as you shrug Trent’s arm off your shoulder, excusing yourself off the couch and to the guest restroom down the hall.

Trent’s bedroom was the only bedroom downstairs, planted right next to the guest restroom, so it shouldn’t have shocked you to see him in his bedroom with the door wide open, but still, it did. He was pulling his black hoodie over his head, left shirtless. Look away!

Trent catches your stare through the hallway and heat rushes to your cheeks in an instant. He smirks, kicking his door open wider and then slipping on a white tee. His red plaid pajama pants hang dangerously low.

You had to talk to him anyway, so you walked inside and closed the door.

“Hey,” he says, eyebrows raised, but his eyelids hood the closer you walk to him. A part of him knew you would come into his room.

“Can we talk?”

“Sure.” He sits down on the edge of the bed patting the spot next to him but you stay standing.

“We’re good…right?”

His eyebrows furrow, “What do you mean?”

“Okay,” you blow out a raspberry. “Last time we spoke, I told you I had feelings for you and then we argued, and then you pranced off. You basically said you didn’t feel the same and that we should stop, but during the movie you put your arm around me making me feel confused.”

“I can’t just rest my arm?”

Your jaw drops, you knew it was dumb. Knew it was haste. Knew that you didn’t really have something to talk about him. Maybe a part of you was still hurt from his rejection, hoping that he felt the same. That the months apart left him a dull ache, but here he was staring at you with those same serious—but blank—brown eyes that broke your heart months ago.

“Unbelievable,” you mumble and turn towards his door. His hand is on your wrist before you can even reach the exit.

“Wait.” Facing him, you pull your hand out of his grip. The seriousness from his eyes moments ago is gone, they seem on edge. “I’m sorry. I was joking, sorry. I—I’ve missed you.”

“Trent—”

“No, I’ve really missed you. I would’ve told you sooner but I thought you moved on.” The confusion is etched on your face that he continues, scrambling for words. “I saw Jack’s arm around you at our first football match and I thought you had moved on, or were trying to, so I didn’t want to come back and tell you that I felt the same way.”

“What?” you exasperate.

He licks his lips, briefly looking down, “I like you too. I know you probably don’t feel the same way anymore because it was months ago and that’s okay, but since we’re talking now, yeah…I like you.”

Trent’s nervousness practically seeped out of his pores. His voice seemed so fragile, his hands anxiously playing with his pajama strings. And his eyes were anywhere but on you. He was pouring out his heart in the most shy way he could, his way.

Another reason that drove the two of you away was him always keeping in his feelings. Even when it was just about sex, he didn’t communicate well. So for him to talk right now, you wanted nothing more than to throw your arms around him, heart swelling at him confessing his feelings.

But it had been months. Did you still feel the same for Trent? Your heart skipped a beat when you saw him, but you also hadn’t seen him that much so the distance mended your heart to some extent.

“Oh,” you say. “I really wish you said that earlier, wow, um—”

The more you search for words, the more you notice the sudden panic in Trent’s eyes grow.

“I don’t know if I feel the same,” you confess, pretending to ignore the droop of his shoulders. “We’ve been separated for so long that I don’t know if I still feel that…I’ve missed you too, a lot, so maybe I do. This sounds dumb but can you give me time?”

And who were you kidding? Because the moment he nods, you knew that you still had feelings for him. He was too patient for his own good.

“Of course,” he forces out a smile. You aren’t sure what to do at that moment so you hesitantly reach out for him and give him a hug. He tucks his head into the crook of your shoulder, pulling your body closer to his and then giving you a squeeze.

“Trent,” you squeal.

“Sorry,” he chuckles. “I’ve missed our hugs.”

“I missed them too.”

There's a brief moment the two of you share after you pull away from him. His hands are placed gently around your elbows, his head hanging down towards yours. Your nose bumps into his and he pulls away just barely and whispers, “Are you sure?”

You nod, “Yeah.” Trent places a chaste kiss on your lips, sighing through his nose like he’s granted some kind of relief.

His hands slip onto your waist, tugging you closer and you wrap your arms around his neck. He kisses your jaw and neck slowly, basking in the feel of your body pressed against him once again.

You aren’t shy to give his neck a kiss or two back, a rumbling laugh escaping his chest as you find his unusual tickle spot. His thumbs feel the sliver of skin where your shirt rode up, aimlessly rubbing circles, “We should head back.”

“We should,” you glance at him once more, planting a kiss on his cheek and then fumbling out of his bedroom. You can hear his laugh as you exit.

You sit back down next to Jude who still seems so engrossed into the movie, so he doesn’t bat an eye when Trent follows suit afterward. He fluffs the blanket over the two of you and keeps his hand lingering on your thigh. If you were stronger, you would’ve pushed it off, but you liked having his soothing touch on you again.

In the middle of the night, you stirred awake, shivering. The blanket you were wrapped in on the boy’s sofa wasn’t sufficient enough to keep you warm and you couldn’t bear another minute with your teeth chattering. Grumbling, you wrap the blanket around your body and tiptoe to Trent’s bedroom. He wouldn’t have minded, had basically whispered in your ear countless times to come sleep with him before you all went to bed.

As you open his bedroom door, you hear him shuffle around in his blankets, barely able to make out him rubbing his eyes while looking at you.

“I’m freezing,” you mutter, shutting his door. Trent understands immediately, doesn’t have to be told twice as he opens the blanket for you. It doesn’t take much for you to realize he’s shirtless, but you don’t care when you wrap your body around him and hold onto him like a koala.

“Your feet are cold,” he chuckles, his voice hoarse and throaty. “I missed you.”

“I know you did, now please finish tucking the blankets in and hold me.”

“Yes ma'am,” he mumbles. He makes sure you’re securely wrapped in the blanket and that there isn’t a pocket of space open somewhere. His arms slither around your back, and he presses a sleepy kiss to your forehead before shutting his eyes. “Night, sweetheart.”

“Goodnight, Trent.”

It takes you a couple of seconds to realize where you’re at in the morning, Trent’s white walls are a stark difference from your decorated covered walls. And his semi-hard dick pressed against your butt is certainly an unfamiliar feeling. Well, unfamiliar for only the past few months.

His hand is tucked tightly underneath your shirt, resting between the valley of your breasts. It was a position he resorted to all the time mid-sleep, and maybe you should’ve remembered that before crawling into his bed last night, but the shallow, labored breathing fanning across your neck lulled you back to sleep that your wind went fuzzy. All rational thoughts vanished.

Trent’s hips buckle up as he lets out a deep sigh, his dick only pressing further into you that you had to wake him up or separate. Gently, you slide his arm down, biting down your bottom lip as his hand brushes your nipple.

His eyes flutter open and he groans at the roll of your hips, “Stop moving.”

“You hurt,” you whisper.

“Yeah, you're hurting me,” he mumbles, pulling his hips back. He takes notice of his hand, sliding his hand out from underneath your shirt. “Fuck, sorry—”

“No, you’re hurting me, asshole,” you say at the same time. Trent’s cheeks are burning because he knows what position he was in, having always found himself in that same position every morning after being with you.

“I’m sorry,” he sits up, grumbling at the pain in his pants and embarrassment spreading to his face. He didn’t want to ruin the progress he had made, the two of you just sharing a kiss last night.

You sit up immediately with him, noticing the tension in his bare shoulders as he looks around his bedroom, debating his next move. You grasp his shoulder softly and he lets out a small gasp. “Hey, it’s okay. I was joking around. I’m not actually upset.”

Trent’s panicked eyes simmer down, “Okay.”

“Do you want to lay back down? It’s barely seven in the morning, I doubt the others are awake,” you continue, suddenly feeling nervous. You only started getting nervous in front of Trent after you caught feelings, before, you never had a problem poking jokes at him. You still had them, but they were much more tamed and timid.

He nods, letting out a shaky sigh as he gets back underneath the blankets. He crosses his arm, not daring to peer at you because he knows it wouldn’t help his ever growing erection. That burning hand you placed on his shoulders, sent him haywire for the thirty seconds it was on him.

And you hated the way you knew his body like the back of your hand. You knew how his long eyelashes would bat, his blown pupils, and why he bit onto his bottom lip almost drawing blood. The line of sweat that brimmed his forehead, his ragged breaths—god, you weren’t strong enough. It all went straight down to your core, making you squeeze your thighs a little tighter, and the second the bed dipped, Trent’s breath hitched.

“Do you,” you swallowed, “need help?”

Trent’s bare stomach caved in as he sighed, the bunched blanket barely stopping above the hemline of his pants. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he threw his crossed arms over his eyes, “Sweetheart, please don’t tease right now.”

What was once semi-hard was now raging and throbbing, way too rigid that even his breathing made him hurt. He felt your watchful eyes on him earlier, making him only grow harder as he tried to ignore it. Even if he were to scramble to his bathroom, it would hurt way too much that he would rather just sit and wait it out. But you were not making it easy, not when he could smell your shampoo still.

“I’m not teasing,” you say, voice a little louder laced with confidence.

Trent sucks his breath, “You’re cruel.”

You roll your eyes, “Do you want me to suck your dick or not?”

An eye peaks over his crossed arms, “Well when you put it like that—”

“And here I was trying to be nice and a little romantic.”

Trent chuckles as his arms flop down beside him, immediately grimacing as the force travels down, “Please just kiss me.”

He’s still facing the ceiling as he relinquished, eyes dancing around his bedroom and you. You stir beside him and he pouts. You snicker as you roll by his side, “So needy.” You press your lips on his pout and he’s immediately devouring you, slipping his tongue into your mouth as he grips your neck. Your hand barely had time to slide down the back of his neck. Meanwhile his other hand is gripping a fistful of your shirt.

You force your head back, out of breath, “Okay—”

Trent lets out another guttural groan, his eyes squeezing in frustration, “I’m really fucking hard right now, so if you’re playing around just tell me so I can blow this load myself.”

“I’m not playing around, you said to kiss you! I didn’t think fucking tongue!” you yell, almost wanting to laugh at your two’s situation. You were being a little slow on purpose but come on now, it was a little funny at just how much the tables were turned. On so many occasions, Trent decided to be a dickwad and tease the hell out of you, and you relished the few times you were able to tease him back.

His bottom lip jutted out again, almost by reflex, and the vein popping out of his forehead didn’t make your building laughter any more suppressed. His fisted grip on your shirt loosened as he stirred.

“Okay, okay, no foreplay,” you conclude, pecking his pouty lip and pulling down his blanket. His eyes bulge and he attempts to pick up his head but immediately slams it back down with an agonized groan.

Jesus.

You pull down his tented pajama pants to his ankles, not bothering to take them off completely, and then eye him through his black briefs. He was rock solid, a small, darker spot of precum encircling near his tip. And once you pull down his boxers, it springs out, hitting his stomach. The tip glistened with precum.

He lamented after he was finally out of those constricting boxers.

“Everyone is still sleeping out there,” you warn. He nods frantically, grabbing onto a piece of the blanket and biting onto it. His bedroom walls were thick but with the silence of the morning, noise was bound to travel.

You seriously wanted to tease him on just how desperate he was behaving right now, but you didn’t want to add more frustration than what he was already feeling.

With one stroke of Trent’s leaking arousal with your hand, it doesn’t take long for you to put him out of his misery with your mouth. His own precum lubricated much of himself that he didn’t need your spit, so you gingerly lick his tip as he lets out another groan as he grips the sheets.

Your tongue lapped around his tip as your hand stroked what couldn’t fit in your mouth. You could feel him practically swelling with each pump that it wasn’t going to take much longer to come.

His stomach caved in rapidly as you slowly sunk your head down on him. It had been a while and your teeth may have grazed him by accident as you adjusted to his size but he didn’t care. He was too much in a haze with the feel of your lips and tongue.

Once you found your rhythm, you bobbed your head faster, licking and sucking him off until tears welled in your eyes. His hands were immediately prying at your head and neck as his hips bucked, his tip nearly hitting the back of your throat.

“Fuck, I’m about—” Usually you’d back off and dump his seed onto his stomach but you decided not to this time, lapping up his shaft one more time before circling his tip with your tongue and then prodding the slit. He winced as his hand grew tighter around your shoulder, his other hand stifling the moan that threatened to come out.

Trent’s hips buckled once more and finally you felt the steamy ropes of his seed fall into and around your mouth, you were not fast enough to catch him entirely. Feeling his entire stomach grumble as he came, you caressed his thighs as you swallowed what you could. He handed you the small towel he had near his bed and you really would’ve cringed if the circumstances were different, but his room wasn’t necessarily tidy. There were a couple of shirts strewn on the floor and he did seem to have just recently washed towels since there was a pile of them on the floor next to his bed.

His breathing was heavy as he tried to calm himself down as you cleaned your chin and the remnants that dribbled down onto his stomach. And the second you pushed his briefs back on him, he sat up straight immediately, attacking your face with a hungry kiss. You giggled as you fell back, him landing on top with a chuckle as his hand gently slipped down your neck.

He pulled back, a wide grin on his face as his locs unstuck from his sweaty forehead, “I think I had blue balls.”

“You think? You came in like two seconds,” you laugh.

He shushes you, “Don’t say that so loud—”

“You were all whiny and couldn’t even get up!”

He rolls his eyes, his hair flopping with his exaggerated roll, “I knew you’d laugh.”

“I helped you, didn’t I?”

He rolls his eyes again, “Yeah, you did. Thank you, let me return the favor, yeah?”

“Hmmm,” you ponder. “Okay, go for it.”

He laughs, kissing you cheerfully. It doesn’t take long for you to be undressed and gripping onto his shoulders tightly with your thighs while his hand covers your mouth to stifle your moans.

Delilah taunts the group with her makeshift mistletoe, it hangs from the end of her long stick as she walks around. She had yet to stop on anyone—or pair rather—but you knew the moment you got up to get a drink from Trent she’d follow. And that’s exactly how you wound up in the position with everyone chanting, “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”

Your face radiates with heat as Trent smirks. You hid your nervous smile with your cup as Jude’s chant got louder. They crowd the kitchen, not daring to let up as the two of you get circled.

Trent nudges your hip with his, removing the cup from your face as his hand goes to your cheek and jaw. His eyes read yours briefly before dipping his head into a searing kiss. It wasn’t necessarily brief but it wasn’t long either as they erupt into a chorus of hoots and shocked gasps. Once he pulls away, he lets you bury your head into his chest, hugging you. His chest vibrates with his chuckle.

Your hands went through his unzipped brown fluffy sweater, head resting alongside the white sweater he wore. He looked so soft and comfy in the outfit, you had been dying to just give him a giant hug the moment you saw him.

He kisses your forehead tenderly, “You okay?”

“Mmhmm,” you mumble, releasing him. His gentle and attentive eyes almost make your knees buckle, so you don’t notice everyone staring at the two of you because it felt like it was just you and him. You chuckle, “Surprise?”

Trent’s grip falls from your shoulder to your waist, a simpering smile as he pulls you closer to his side.

“I knew it!” Aaron yells and Trent shakes his head. “You’re such a liar.”

“What?” Trent feigns.

“I always said it looked like her car was out there and you always said that I was wrong,” Aaron says, taking a swig of his drink. Trent chuckles from behind you, throwing his arm across your shoulders as he forces you to fall back into his grasp.

Jude narrows his eyes, “Fairs.”

The girls direct their questions at you all at once but you don’t understand a thing. Trent kisses your forehead once more before letting go to let you have your space with the girls.

Ben whistles to get everyone’s attention for the Secret Santa exchange so the only question you get to answer is Sara’s: “How could you not tell us?” You sit next to the girls while Trent plops down on the couch next to Jude and Aaron.

One by one you all go in a circle exchanging gifts, you starting first with Delilah. You had gotten her the paint-by-numbers kit that she wanted the longest and pink slippers. Delilah gifts Aaron headphones; Aaron gifts Sara a new jewelry box that Ava helped pick out; Sara gifts Jude sunglasses; and Jude gifts Ben a new pair of Adidas boots and a box full of rubbers. Everyone laughs and momentarily gapes at this box full of condoms that Jude filled all the way to the top.

Ben then gets up and grabs his gift for Ava. Ava unwraps her highly anticipated book that she spammed the group chat with to get her, marveling at it. She then hurls Trent his gift and he chuckles at the new sweater he now has. It’s a long white knitted sweater that he’d probably look adorable in and you can’t help but to beam at him from across the room. The Christmas tree’s lights produce a glimmer in his eyes that makes you swoon when he locks eyes with you.

You didn’t even notice that you were the last one to yet receive your gift from…Trent. It doesn’t take long for you to realize he’s all who’s left, but the thought of who had you escaped your mind because you were too busy fawning over everyone else’s gifts.

Trent saunters towards you, a neatly wrapped white box with a red ribbon tied in the center. He sits down onto the side of the couch and hovers over you. His warmth radiates onto you that the urge to take him back into his room to cuddle him is so strong, but the others were staring as they waited for you to open the box.

You tear off the wrapping paper and open the box, inside is a neatly folded pink hoodie. Just from the sheer size of it you can tell it’s thick and cozy.

“I know how you always get cold,” he whispers.

You smile brightly, cheeks feeling warm as you pull it out. Underneath it is fuzzy red socks and you gasp, “This is so cute, thank you!”

For whatever reason, as you look up at him your eyes are nearly filled with tears that you have to blink them away rapidly. He chuckles, bending down to kiss your smile. Needless to say, you had made up your mind. This man held your heart in the palm of his hands.

Meanwhile, Ben stuffs a handful of rubbers into Trent’s palm and he laughs as he drops them into your box.

“Way to be romantic,” you scold, peering up at him.

Trent bends down to be level with your ear, “Saying that when you had my dick in your mouth hours ago.”

You slap his jean-clad thigh, “Trent!”

He may have looked like a sweet cuddly bear in his outfit but he was anything but, especially when the night was still young.

----

Note: OKAY I promise I will steer away from friend groups in my next fic LOL.

#trent alexander arnold #trent alexander arnold x reader #trent alexander arnold fanfic #trent alexander arnold imagine #em.writes

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sanguineterrain · 1 year

Text

it's a feeling that's fine - s.h.

Summary: You accidentally climb the wrong fence on the hottest day of May. It turns out to be the best thing that's ever happened to you.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Word count: 10.6k

Warnings/tags: no use of y/n, no physical descriptions, etc. reader is in a toxic friendship; she's slightly bullied in that indirect mean girl way, but the toxic friendship ends. reader cuts her finger by accident. drinking and drug mentions. fluff, humor, strangers to friends to lovers, summer vibes, so many princess bride references. steve is super duper sweet!!! post s4 volume 2.

A/N: so if you wondered where i've been for the last two months.... it was in a cave writing this fic. i'm really proud of this one; the reader is a little different than how i usually write, but i hope you'll like her all the same :) if you enjoy this fic, please please let me know through comments/reblogs!

divider by firefly-graphics

Today is hot.

Weatherman Dale had said this morning that today is a record high for May. It’s so hot, in fact, that Debbie Wellerman had called you this morning asking if you wanted to come swim in her pool.

You’d asked if you could dig for worms in her yard. She’d sighed and hung up. You hope that means yes. Joan has been in need of some company. Worms would be good for her.

You go around Debbie’s house and stop at the back gate. The Wellermans are kind of mean and they don’t like it when you take too many cucumber sandwiches. To avoid them, you’ve taken to going through the back gate whenever Debbie invites you over. It works pretty well.

Except today, the gate is locked. Which is weird, because Debbie usually leaves it open. It’s how her boyfriend, Brett, sneaks in during the day, and how Brett’s brother, Chet, sneaks in at night.

You’d asked once why the brothers come over separately. Debbie had gotten mad and kicked you out without giving you any ice cream. You don’t ask about Brett and Chet anymore.

The problem is that you’re wearing flip flops, which are not ideal for climbing fences. Or anything, really. You once climbed a jungle gym in flip flops and skinned both knees.

You slip off your flip flops and fling them over the fence. They land a second later, clapping against the ground. The fence is covered in climbing ivy and tiny red flowers you’ve never seen before. You wonder how Debbie made them grow so fast.

The street is empty, which is nice. Sometimes people in Loch Nora like to yell at people who don’t also live in Loch Nora.

The fence wood is hot but not so hot that you can’t touch it. You stick your feet in the little grooves and start to climb. It’s not too high of a fence, but it’s high enough to warn people who don’t belong here.

That’s never stopped you, though.

Getting over is trickier. You expect Debbie to see you by now, but there’s no sound. She must be inside, or maybe she’s out and forgot she’s invited you. She does that sometimes.

Wood dust clings to your fingers and the soles of your feet. When you’re a foot from the ground, you hop down. Then you turn.

There’s no sign of Debbie. There is, however, a boy.

He’s reclined on an inflatable blue ring floaty in the middle of the pool. He wears sunglasses and red board shorts with little white anchors on them.

He has very pretty hair, both on his head and chest. He also has pretty lips. And arms. All of him is pretty, really. You wish you could see his face properly. He probably has a nice face too. Symmetrical and kind.

The area around the pool is paved just like at Debbie’s—only it’s a lot larger than you remember. There's a patch of dirt next to the gate. You go and crouch at the edge. You don't see any worms. Probably because it's so hot. You'd stay underground too if you were a worm.

You stand and turn to look at the boy again. He looks like he might be asleep.

“Did Debbie invite you?” you ask.

The boy shoots up from the floaty. The shift in weight makes him lose his balance and he topples into the water a moment later. The floaty flips with him.

He resurfaces almost immediately, spitting water and rubbing chlorine from his eyes. You squint.

Yes, you were right. He does have a very nice face.

The water comes up to his waist. He pushes his hair back in handfuls, blinking. Then he fishes his sunglasses out with his foot and sets them on his head.

“Can you swim?” you ask.

He stares at you, blinking.

“What?” he says after a beat.

“Can you swim?” you repeat.

“Uh, yeah? Yes, of course I can swim.”

"It would be bad luck if you couldn’t.”

His brows furrow.

“Because I can't swim,” you clarify.

“I wouldn’t be in the pool if I couldn’t swim,” he says.

“That’s good thinking.”

You sit at the edge of the pool and dip your calves in. He wades closer until he’s about three feet away.

“How did you get here?” he asks.

“I walked.”

“I mean, how did you get in my backyard?”

“Oh. I climbed the fence.”

You peer closer. He looks familiar, but you can’t quite place him.

“Are you Brett and Chet’s triplet?” you ask. “You’re a lot prettier than them. Did their mother feed you extra vitamins?"

His eyes go wide. “Uh… Brett and Chet Kingsley?”

“Uh-huh. Debbie invites both of them over, but never at the same time.”

“Who's—they don’t have a triplet.”

“That’s good. Three’s bad luck.”

“My house number has a three in it,” he says.

“Don’t step on any sidewalk cracks,” you warn.

He tilts his head, tongue poking out like he’s sizing you up. You let him, focusing on his face instead. He has dark, warm eyes the color of black tea. His shoulders are toned with lots of freckles on them. He looks like a boy who’d like Debbie, not you.

“Is Debbie going to be back soon?” you ask. You don’t want to get attached to a boy who’ll just end up wanting Debbie instead. You've made that mistake before.

“Um… if you’re talking about Debbie Wellerman, she lives on the next block over. I’m Steve Harrington.”

“Oh. You’re the guy who fought the monsters.”

He eyes you warily. “Wh—how do you know about the monsters?”

"Who doesn't?"

Steve opens his mouth, then closes it.

“You can’t tell anyone," he finally says.

You shrug and kick at the water gently.

“I have no one to tell. Debbie doesn’t believe in monsters.”

“She doesn’t believe in giving you a key either, huh?”

“She doesn’t usually lock her gate,” you say.

“Well, this isn’t her gate.”

“Yeah. I like your shorts.”

Steve’s cheeks flush pink.

“Are you getting sunstroke?” you ask.

That turns his cheeks pinker.

“No, no." He coughs. "I’m fine.”

“It’s a record high temperature for May,” you say. “That’s what Weatherman Dale said. The highest it's ever been since 1923."

“Yeah, I heard." He nods. "I didn’t wanna run the AC the whole day so, here I am. My friend Robin was supposed to come over, but I guess she bailed.”

“Robin is a nice name. Is she a bird?”

Steve smiles. “No, she’s a girl.”

“Oh. I thought maybe she was a bird you’d made friends with while fighting monsters.”

“Well.” Steve shrugs. “I did sort of make friends with her while fighting monsters.”

“Robins are good omens. They bring luck."

“Huh.”

You swallow. You’re probably talking too much. That’s what Debbie would say. That’s why boys sneak into her yard and not yours.

"So." Steve puts a hand over his forehead to block the sun. "Debbie Wellerman, huh? You don't seem like the type to be her friend."

"Friends can come from the most unusual places," you say. "Like under a tree or at the bottom of the ocean."

"Have you made many friends at the bottom of the ocean?" Steve asks with a smile.

You hesitate. Is he making fun of you? Sometimes, you can't tell. The people in Loch Nora are good at making fun of you without you knowing.

Steve’s hair has already begun to dry, a little crunchy from the chlorine. He doesn’t look like he’s making fun of you.

"Not many. But that's where I found Joan," you say.

"Joan was at the bottom of the ocean?"

"Kind of. I found her in a pond. Then I found her sister, but I lost her at sea and I couldn't swim out to rescue her. It was a sad day. Joan didn't handle it well."

Steve's brows rise. "Wow. I'm sorry."

"It's okay. Joan has been on the incline. I think she's finally ready to get back out there. I wanted to find her company, but I didn't want to disturb your dirt."

“My dirt?”

“Mmhm. I'm trying to make a social club for her."

"Out of dirt?"

"Out of worms."

"Huh."

Steve rests his chin on his arm that's perched on the ledge.

"Your hair is wavy," you observe.

"What? Oh, yeah. I didn't put anything in it."

"Like what? Secrets?"

"No, like, gel. Product."

You nod in realization. "Your hair was so big in school.”

Steve winces. "Yeah. Sorry, I wasn't the best guy back then."

"You were in your chrysalis. You needed time to grow. But then you turned into a butterfly. Or a moth, if you prefer."

"Moths are spooky," says Steve. "They look like they have eyes on their wings."

"Yes. But they're actually friendly. Unless you eat them. Some are poisonous." You lean in, deadly serious. "Don't eat moths."

"Will do."

"No, don't. And warn your Robin too. She might think one looks delicious and meet her doom."

A smile creeps onto Steve's face.

"You're kind of strange," he says. "In the best way possible."

"Thank you."

"Do you want some lemonade?"

"Is it poisoned?"

"What?" Steve startles. "No, of course not."

"No, I suppose not," you say thoughtfully. "You hadn't expected me to climb over your gate, so you wouldn't have had time to poison the lemonade."

Steve stacks one arm atop his other, looking up at you. The ends of his hair have begun to curl. You like it so much.

"What if I pour from the pitcher right in front of you? Will that make you feel better?" he asks.

"You can still put something in my glass," you say. "Or you might have built a tolerance to the poison for this exact moment. Like in The Princess Bride."

"I'm only twenty-one. I would've had to start very young to build a tolerance. Besides, what would be my motivation to poison you?"

You shake your head. "There's no need for motivation. Violent delights. But you've fought monsters, and Lucas Sinclair says you're a good guy. So, yes, I will have some lemonade."

Steve pushes himself out of the pool with ease, dripping water all over the concrete. You stare at the rivulets that hurry down his legs and chest. He has a lot of hair everywhere. You like that too.

He offers his hand and you take it, letting him pull you to your feet. Your shoulder bumps his. Steve's skin is warm. He smells like chlorine and something sweeter. Pineapple, maybe.

"You would do very well as a knight," you say. "If I were a princess, I'd want you to commit yourself to me."

Steve makes a weird noise in his throat.

"Uh, th-thanks," he says.

"You're welcome."

"So you, uh, know Lucas?"

"Yes. He lives on my block. His mom gives me rides sometimes."

You step in through the sliding glass door, which puts you directly in the kitchen. The house is at least twenty degrees cooler. You shiver at the sudden temperature change.

"You don't have a car?" Steve asks.

"No."

"You walked from your house to Loch Nora?"

"I took the bus part of the way. Then I walked."

Steve takes two glasses down from the shelf. Then he opens the refrigerator. You sit at the large kitchen island while he pours.

"Debbie Wellerman has a car," Steve says.

"Uh-huh. A Porsche."

A money car, she'd called it when she got it for her sixteenth birthday. Boys love girls with money cars. Maybe that's why boys don't love you.

Steve hands you a glass. You take a long sip. Your mouth puckers and you scrunch your eyes shut as the acid coats your tongue.

"Shit. Not enough sugar?"

You swallow and open your eyes.

"It's wonderful, Steve," you say earnestly.

"You don't have to lie. I saw your mouth screw up."

"I'm not lying. It's the right amount of sour."

Steve takes his own sip. His lips pucker, and he shakes his head.

"Nope. Definitely needs more sugar."

You cradle your glass in your hands. "Don't take mine. She's perfect."

Steve breathes a laugh, returning the pitcher to the fridge. He sits beside you on the island. He's already developing a slight tan. You wonder if more freckles appear the longer he's in the sun.

"Why doesn't Debbie pick you up?" he asks.

"Why would she pick me up?"

"Because that's what nice friends do. And it's unfair to expect you to come all the way here when the buses don't go through Loch Nora."

"Debbie always expects me to come over," you say. "So I do. She doesn't like my house."

Steve frowns deeply.

"I don't mind the walk," you offer, trying to make him smile again.

It doesn't work. Steve takes another sip. His lips purse, red like cherry candy and shiny with lemonade.

"She should meet you halfway more often," he says, dumping his lemonade into the sink.

You trace shapes into the condensation of your glass.

"I wanted to go rollerblading," you say. "But…"

"But what?" he prompts.

"She didn't. Neither did Brett. They wanted to make out in the pool.”

Steve grimaces. “Sounds like a drag.”

“They make weird noises. Like goats at the zoo.”

Steve snorts. You smile and kick your legs, pleased.

“My friends go rollerblading,” he says. “The kids love to skate at the park. You could come with us one day.”

“You have kids?”

“No, I—” Steve shakes his head, chuckling. “Definitely not. No, they’re only a few years younger than me, but me and the other people our age call them kids. They’re part of our little monster-fighting group. Anyway, uh, y'know. Open invite. If you're ever tired of goat noises."

You stare at him for a minute. He seems nervous, and you can't make out why. Nobody's ever nervous around you.

"Okay," you say. "I'd like to meet your kids."

"Cool. Well, um, I can give you my number. We usually meet up on weekends, but once school ends, any day is game."

Your heart rate picks up. You know this part. Only from a distance, of course. But you know what it means when a boy gives a girl his number.

“You want me to call you?” you ask.

“Yeah. I mean, if you want to. I feel like it’s a little forward for me to ask the girl who climbed my fence for her number. So, um, you can call me. Is that cool?”

Steve looks at you and waits. You chew your lip and nod.

“That’s okay.”

He smiles. “Great! I think I have a pen around here somewhere…”

Steve walks around the table to a stationary caddy on the counter and takes out a blue Sharpie. You stick out your arm, palm up.

"Uh…" He looks at you. "I can find a notepad."

"This helps me memorize things better," you say and wiggle your fingers.

"I don't wanna give you ink poisoning."

"You didn't poison me before. You're not very good at it."

"Isn't that a good thing?"

You shrug. "Depends on your aspirations."

Steve hesitates for another second. Then he takes the top of your forearm and begins to write on the soft underside. He writes slowly, which tickles, but you remain still.

He's so close. You're reminded all over again of his hands and warmth and pineapple scent.

Steve caps the marker. You inspect the writing.

"Good penmanship," you say.

"Think so? Robin says it's chicken scratch. But she can't talk—hers is ten times worse."

"It's neat," you say. "But not serial-killer neat. If I were a graphologist, I would give you the all clear."

"Graphologist?"

"A handwriting expert. I would write in my report, 'not a murderer.'"

"Well, that's a relief," Steve says. "I try to keep the murdering to a minimum."

You hum and finish your lemonade in one gulp.

“Thank you for not poisoning me."

“Yeah, you’re welcome,” Steve replies through a smile.

His smile makes you nervous. A good nervous, though, like you're about to sled down a big hill.

You push yourself off the stool. Steve gets up with you and opens the sliding glass door for you.

“A very stalwart knight,” you say, and walk over to where your flip flops are.

You throw them back over the gate. They land with a clack on the sidewalk.

You find your footholds on the gate and turn to look at Steve.

“It was nice to meet you, Steve Harrington. Don’t fight any monsters by yourself.”

“Whoa, hang on!” He jogs over and lightly touches your arm. It sears your skin like you've been kissed by the sun himself. “I’ll unlock the gate. You don’t need to… climb again.”

Steve pulls the latch next to you. The gate creaks open. You hop off and walk through.

Steve leans against the gate, elbow bent. His bicep bulges. You've never been this close to a shirtless boy. Your stomach flips.

“Are you sure you know where Debbie lives?” he asks.

Your eyes dart from his chest to his face.

“Yes.”

“Really? ‘Cause you didn’t exactly find it the first time.”

“Second time’s the charm,” you say.

“I thought it was the third time.”

“No. Three’s bad luck, remember?”

Steve runs his tongue under his molars, once again staring at you like he’s trying to solve a puzzle. You slip into your sandals while he figures you out.

“Well, um. You can come back if you get lost. Or you need help. Or you wanna look for rocks."

You tilt your head. “You’d look for rocks with me?”

“I don’t know how helpful I’d be—all rocks look the same to me. My friends would probably be better at it than me. But, yeah, I would.”

“Okay. Thank you for your hospitality.”

He grins. “Sure thing.”

You take his hand and shake it. It’s warm and slightly calloused. You wonder if he holds girls’ hands often.

"I hope Robin finds your house," you say. "Goodbye, Steve Harrington."

Then you go.

You do find Debbie’s house on the second try. You hide your Sharpie'd arm behind your back when you enter. Debbie doesn’t ask why you’re late. Brett doesn’t acknowledge you, and you wonder how you mistook Steve for his brother.

“There’s lemonade,” Debbie says as she heads in, Brett at her heels.

You don’t drink any. You know it won’t be the right amount of sour.

Movies are better in the summer. This is a fact you've learned to accept.

There's no dread of the cold after you finish a movie in the summer. The tape ends and you can go outside and still love the real world.

Sorry, we're on a break! the sign on the store window reads in loopy script. You sit on the hot curb in front of Family Video, your yellow shorts bunched around your thighs. Sweat sticks to the back of your neck, and you drag a hand across, then wipe your fingers on your shirt.

From here, you can just see the cement-filled cracks in the asphalt, where the earthquake split the main road two years ago. Because of the cracks, the bus stops three blocks from the plaza, so you'd walked three blocks in the heat.

You hadn't been lying to Steve, though. You really don't mind the walk.

Beads of sweat drip down your forehead. One slips into your eye and burns. You make a fist and press it into your eyelid.

Okay. Maybe you mind a little.

"Hey, neighbor!"

You look up, squinting through the sun. Lucas Sinclair waves at you. You wave back. A girl with two red braids is next to him.

"Hi, Lucas," you say, standing as they approach you on the curb.

"This is my girlfriend, Max," he introduces proudly.

"My congratulations. Getting a girlfriend is no easy feat."

Max studies you for a moment. "I think I should get the credit, considering I said yes."

"Undoubtedly," you say.

"Are you his neighbor?" she asks.

"Yes. Lucas is an outstanding neighbor. You should be very proud of him."

"I believe it," says Max.

"What are you doing?" Lucas asks.

"Lots of things," you say. "Breathing, digesting. But presently, I'm waiting for the video store to reopen. I want to rent The Princess Bride.”

Max snorts. "Good luck with that. Those two take five hour lunch breaks now, ever since Keith moved away. It's barely a business anymore."

"There must be a lot of courses in their lunch," you muse.

"Yeah… uh, we're going to get ice cream. Wanna join?" asks Lucas.

"Okay." You turn to Max. "Will my presence impede your special plans?"

Max squints. "Special plans? Like what?"

"I don't know. Perhaps you've written Lucas a series of sonnets to profess your love."

"A series of what?"

"Poems."

"Love poems are corny," she says.

You wonder if Steve would agree.

"Sometimes corny things are good. When they come from the right person," you say.

Max acquiesces with a hum.

"No love poems today," she says. "You should join us."

So you follow a couple steps behind them to the Baskin-Robbins down the block.

The AC whooshes as you step inside, drying your sweat to your forehead.

“Wow,” Max says with a scoff. “It’s like Starcourt all over again.”

You follow her gaze and spot Steve.

Oh. Steve.

He's in a green Family Video vest. A girl sits across from him, wearing a matching vest. She has cropped hair and a bandaid on one knee.

“Hey, losers!” Max calls. “This isn’t a lunch break.”

The girl flips her off. “The sign says we’re taking a break. It doesn’t specify how long of a break.”

Lucas orders a scoop of strawberry ice cream for himself and a scoop of cookies and cream for Max.

“Yeah, plus, we’ve had a grand total of one customer today,” Steve adds.

“Well, you would’ve had two if you hadn’t been here on your seventeen hour break,” Max shoots back.

He scoffs. “Oh, really? Who?”

“Can I get one scoop of rocky road ice cream with oreo crumble and gummy worms in a cup?” you ask the cashier.

She goes to scoop the ice cream. Max proudly points at you.

“Her,” she says with a smirk. “She wanted to rent The Princess Bride, and now she’s not gonna be a paying customer ‘cause you two are lazy.”

“I would still be a paying customer,” you say.

Max shakes her head at you.

“I’m trying to make a point,” she whispers.

“Oh. You’re doing great."

“Your total is three twenty-four,” the cashier says, sticking a spoon into your cup.

The sound of a chair being dragged across the floor draws your attention. Steve is up, trying to free his leg from under the table. He finally wiggles free and jogs to the counter, wallet in hand.

"Hi,” he says. "I can pay."

“But I have money,” you say, brows knitting.

“No, I know. I—now you can save your money. Do you–do you mind if I pay for you?”

“Will I have to pay you back?” you ask.

“Oh my God,” the cashier mutters under her breath.

You shrink at her tone. You've missed something, evidently. You have no clue what.

Steve glances at her, mouth pinching.

“No,” he says gently, turning back to you. “You don’t have to pay me back. It’s a gesture. As a friend.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Steve gives her the money. You take your ice cream.

“Smooth,” you hear Max say to Steve. He bumps her arm with his elbow.

Steve pulls a chair from another table for you. You all sit down.

"This is, uh…" Steve trails off, turning to you. "I'm sorry, I never got your name."

"You kept calling her Buttercup," the girl says.

Steve whips his head around to hiss at her.

"Robin."

"She's my neighbor," Lucas says.

"We know," Max tells him.

"I don't." Robin raises her hand briefly, shooing Steve away. "I'm Robin Buckley."

"Hi, Robin. Watch out for moths," you say.

She tilts her head and smiles. You look at Steve, who's already looking at you.

"Princess Buttercup?" you ask.

"Well." He rubs the back of his neck. "Y-Yeah, kinda. You mentioned The Princess Bride and, uh, I don’t know your name, so…”

You mull that over.

"If I'm Buttercup, you must be Westley."

Steve's eyes widen. "Uh…"

Robin snickers. Max smirks.

"Interesting shade of red you're turning, Westley," Robin says.

"Shut—"

He kicks her chair leg. She yelps and shoves him in retaliation. Max rolls her eyes.

"Have some class, will you?" she says.

"I'm classy!" Steve insists.

"Not anymore," Lucas says gravely. "Now you're a glorified babysitter."

"Childcare is dutiful work," you say.

Steve grins at you. Your stomach flutters.

“Is that a mud pie?” he asks.

You nod.

“Gummy worms?”

You tilt your head. “How did you know?”

Steve chuckles. “Lucky guess.”

Across the table, the others argue about the classiest ice cream flavors.

“It’s obviously mango sorbet.”

“Sorbet isn’t ice cream!”

“Are they your kids?” you ask.

Steve leans in so you can talk in his ear. His arm is on the back of your chair. If you shift the slightest inch, you’d feel him.

“Minus Robin. Though, sometimes…” He rolls his eyes playfully. “But, um, yeah. Two of them.”

“How many kids do you have?” you ask.

“Let’s see…” Steve counts on his fingers. “Six?”

“Wow. You must be some babysitter.”

“I’m alright.”

You lean in. Steve blinks.

“What’re you doing?” he asks.

“You have an eyelash.”

You swipe the hair off his cheek and hold your finger in front of his mouth.

“You have to make a wish.”

Steve’s eyes slide to you. He gently holds your hand in place. Your heart beats faster.

“‘Kay.” He blows the eyelash away, but doesn't release your hand. “Let’s see if it comes true.”

The numbers stare at you. Taunt you, really.

You practically have them memorized. You’d written them thirty times on a piece of notebook paper. Then you’d shoved that under your bed.

Now you have it taped to your dresser mirror.

You wish you could talk to Joan about it, but she’s bathing in the sink after an unfortunate encounter with a paint can.

The Sharpie is gone from your arm, has been gone for several days now. But if you concentrate, you can see its silhouette on your skin.

You get up and peel the paper off the mirror. Then you go down the hall to your phone.

Carefully, you dial, making sure not to press any wrong buttons.

The phone rings. You rock on your toes.

“Hello?” Steve says.

You freeze.

“Hellooo…?”

“Hi,” you finally say. “It’s Buttercup.”

“Oh!” He sounds so happy. “Hey! Hey, how are you?”

“Good.” You chew on a cuticle. “It’s Saturday.”

“Oh, right! Did you wanna go rollerblading?”

Relief floods you. He remembers.

“Yes. If you’re planning it.”

“I haven’t talked to the kids, but I’m sure they’d be down.” You can hear the smile in his voice. “I can pick you up in twenty?"

“I can walk.”

“C’mon, in the sun? You live on the same street as Lucas anyway, don’t worry about it.”

“Well.” You twirl the telephone cord around your finger so tightly, it threatens to cut off your circulation. “Okay… if it’s no trouble.”

“It’s no trouble,” Steve promises. “I’ll see you in a bit, okay?”

You hang up and run to your room to dig for your skates. They’re stuffed under your bed next to a mini gumball machine. You shove two green gumballs in your mouth and race to the bathroom to check on Joan, nearly slipping on the wood.

“I’m going out, Joan. I think he might… he might like me.” You crunch on the gumball shells and shudder. “What a terrifying thought.”

You pull out the drain stopper and set Joan on a washcloth to dry. Then you go down the hall to put on your sneakers.

Steve arrives five minutes early. You only know that because you spend the whole time watching the road from your curtained window. You shake your hands out, overwhelmed with nerves.

It’s just a boy. He’s only a boy.

The two of you meet halfway. Steve jogs backwards, unusually skillful, and opens the passenger door for you.

“Hey. Does Joan want to come?” Steve asks.

You shake your head. “She’s having a spa day. It’s just me.”

“Well, I’m happy to have you,” he says, sweet and earnest.

You duck inside the car and shake your hands a little, trying to fend off the returning nerves. Just a boy.

“So, that’s El,” Steve says as he gets into the driver’s seat, pointing to a girl with short curls. “And you know Max and Lucas.”

Max nods at you with a smile. Lucas waves.

“Hi, El,” you say. “Cool hair.”

“Thank you,” she says, voice soft. “I like your skates.”

“I found them at a yard sale. You can find anything in a yard.”

"Okay," Steve says. "Everybody buckled?"

“Yes, Mom,” Max mumbles.

Steve catches your gaze and rolls his eyes. You smile.

Briefly, you worry you’ll have to fill the silence and talk about yourself, like people expect you to. But Steve and the kids hold conversation easily. They talk about anything and everything.

They're more energetic than you're used to; Debbie always prefers it to be quiet.

But you don't mind it. You don’t feel lonely like you do when you’re with Debbie.

“Alright, please stay within this area,” Steve says when he parks and everyone gets out. “Within—”

“Shouting distance!” Max yells. “Yeah, we know!”

The park isn't crowded. Most of the paths are clear, so skating will be no problem.

Max gets out two skateboards from the trunk.

“Max is going to teach me how to do an ollie,” El informs you. “Would you like to join us?”

“Maybe later,” you say. “I want to master my yard skates.”

She nods and follows the others to the small skate park on the other side of the trees.

You bring your skates to a bench and sit, lacing them up your feet. Steve is a few feet away, swinging his arms slightly.

“Aren’t you going to join them?” you ask.

“Oh, uh, no. I brought my own skates… I thought maybe we could skate together, if that’s okay?”

“Yes, I would like that,” you say.

Steve beams. “Alright, cool. I’ll go get mine.”

You stand, about to take a step forward—and immediately slip.

Steve reacts instantly, lunging to catch you. One hand grabs your elbow, the other on your stomach. You squeal and cling to his shirt.

“Are you okay?” he asks, helping you stand upright.

“I’m okay,” you say, breath caught in your throat.

You take a step but your foot wobbles. Steve grabs you again. You don’t try to take another step.

“I thought skating would be intuitive,” you say, rolling one skate to test.

“What?”

You look up. Steve’s face is inches from yours. His hair is golden in the sunshine. His eyes lock on your own; his focus sends a jolt of electricity down your spine.

“You know, like how babies are able to swim for the first six months of their lives?”

“Uh…” Steve tilts his head. “No?”

“Oh. Because they were in the womb, they have that ability. ‘Cause they float around in there for nine months, you know? But then they lose it. That’s why we have to learn how to swim.”

“Wow. That’s a cool fact.”

Nobody ever thinks your facts are cool. But Steve does.

“Well, I thought skating would be similar,” you say. “I’ve watched other people skate, so I thought I’d just… do it. I guess I lost that at six months too.”

Steve’s smiling. It’s a gentle smile, though. Not a teasing smile.

“I see,” he says. “I’m sorry for your disappointment.”

“It’s alright. Life is far more than disappointment. No use getting hung up on it.”

“Do you want me to teach you how to skate?” he asks. “I promise I’m good at it. Coach Collins said I could’ve seriously pursued it.”

“So skating for you is like avoiding death for Westley,” you say.

“Actually, I’m pretty good at avoiding death too,” Steve says. “And making grilled cheeses.”

“Triple threat.”

He ducks his head with a laugh, and you feel the warmth of it flow through your own body.

“Sure. Can’t make lemonade for shit, though.”

“I think your lemonade is perfect, Steve Harrington.”

His cheeks are scarlet again. It’s quickly becoming your favorite color.

“I would like it if you taught me,” you say.

“Okay. I’ll get my skates after you get the hang of it. Put your hand on my arm, right here.”

Steve pats his forearm. Carefully, you do as he says.

“I’m nervous,” you confess.

“I got you,” Steve says, cheek brushing your head. “I won’t let you fall, Buttercup.”

Saint Aloysius’ parking lot has the best rocks.

You've never told anybody as much because you imagine the lot would get busy, and you like it empty.

Today, you're searching for a brother for Joan. Ever since that tragic day at Macinaw Island, Joan's been very lonely. It‘s hard being a sisterless sister.

Joan is smooth and round, so you look for an equally smooth and round brother. Commonality is important.

Your knees hurt from squatting, so you sit. The rocks poke your butt.

You hear a car rolling up the hill, engine a soft purr. You stop and turn.

The car is maroon and shiny, with only a couple slight scratches you can't notice unless you look really hard. You don't recognize the license plate, although you have yet to start your record of Hawkins plates.

It putters to a stop in front of Giovanni's Bakery across the street. The car doors open.

"I'm losing my edge, Robs! I made a damn fool of myself. I can't even—"

"Okay, first of all, I feel like we're glossing over the fact that you don't even know this girl. And what she did was technically trespassing."

"Do you know her name?" another voice pipes up.

"No, Dustin, I don't know her name. I don't even know if she lives in Hawkins!"

Their voices disappear as they go inside the bakery. You find Joan a brother, Jack, and Jack finds a wife named Gwen. Gwen isn't smooth and round; she's sharp-edged and will be harder to clean, but she's a muted salmon color and you think she's pretty. You hope Jack will find her pretty too.

As you dig through the pile of rocks, your finger catches on the edge of a broken bottle. It slices your finger. Blood swells immediately.

You put your new rocks in your plastic red pail with your other hand. Then you stand, joints popping as you do so. You stick your ribs out and bend your spine in a stretch.

You cross the street to the bakery, pail in hand. The bell jingles as you enter. You hum the ding-dong under your breath.

"Can I help you?" the man behind the counter asks.

"Hello. Can I have five baci di dama and five of the raspberry sandwich cookies?"

He goes to the display case with a paper bag. You rest your elbows on the counter, pail handles over your arm.

"Anything else?"

"Yes. Do you have a bandaid? I'm bleeding."

The man purses his lips. "No bandaid, sorry."

"That's okay. Just the cookies, then."

"Buttercup?"

You turn. Steve stands before you, wearing his Family Video vest. Robin is beside him, her hair piled into a windblown bun on her head. Another boy, shorter than both, younger, is with them. He waves at you, curls bouncing.

You wave back. Robin squeals.

"Oh my God, what happened to your finger?" she asks, horrified.

"There was a broken bottle in the parking lot."

"Jesus," Steve says. He takes your hand and inspects it. He's so close and warm. All you can do is stare at the freckles on his neck.

“Why were you in the parking lot?” he asks.

“I was looking for rocks. This is the best rock spot in all of Hawkins. Well, after Lover’s Lake. But the pH has been abnormally high there. Probably because of the monsters. So I came here.”

"Hi, I'm Dustin," the boy introduces. “Is your finger okay?”

"Hi, Dustin. I think I’ll survive,” you say. “Dustin means brave warrior in Norse.”

Dustin beams. “Yup. I was named after my grandfather. He served in World War Two.”

"Names are important,” you say. “Joan agonized for days deciding what I should call her. Eventually, I decided for her. A name says a lot about a person. Steve has a warrior and good luck at his side."

"Yep, Steve-o here is pretty blessed to have us. And," he gestures to you, "You are?"

"Hungry," you say, taking your bag of cookies with your free hand.

The bag crinkles as you open it. You hold it out to Steve.

"Do you want one? I promise they’re blood-free.”

"Uh…” He glances at your hand. “Are you sure your finger is okay?”

“She’s a trooper. Survived ink poisoning and everything.” You wave the bag again. “Cookie?”

Steve takes a baci di dama out and pops it into his mouth. He hums as he chews, nodding.

"'S good," he says after he swallows.

"Baci di dama means lady's kisses in Italian," you say.

His cheeks turn pink again.

"You should drink more water," you add. "You turn pink easily."

Robin snorts. Steve holds a hand to his cheek.

"Uh, thanks."

“You’re welcome. Robin, would you like a cookie?"

"No, thanks,” she says. “I'm picking up a tiramisu for my mom's birthday."

"I want a cookie!" Dustin says.

"Dude," Steve hisses.

You hold the bag open to Dustin. He takes a raspberry sandwich cookie.

"So," Dustin says, mouth full. "Are you Steve’s girlfriend or something?”

“Not that I’m aware of,” you say.

“Du-ude!” Steve says too loudly, voice climbing in pitch.

“What? You talk about her all the freakin’ time. I needed to know.”

You look at Steve. He rubs the back of his neck and half-smiles.

“Anyway,” continues Dustin. “How do you know Steve?”

"I climbed over his gate by accident on the hottest day of May,” you say.

"By accident?"

"Yes. All the gates in Loch Nora look the same. Except Steve's gate has climbing ivy and little red flowers. It's much nicer than the other houses. It looks like a person lives there. I mistook it for Debbie's gate."

Robin tilts her head at you. You don't care what Steve says; she's a one hundred percent bonafide bird.

Dustin points to your pail, crumbs all over his chin. "Why do you have rocks?"

"They're for Joan," you say.

"Joan? Is she your friend?"

"She's more like my confidante. She doesn't talk much, so I think it'd be presumptuous of me to call her a friend when I have no idea where we stand."

"Navigating friendships can be hard," Steve offers.

"Yes," you say. "They can be."

"Being straightforward can help a lot," he continues. "It, uh, at least helped me. That way the other person knows what you mean. No room for miscommunication."

You nod. "That's good advice. I'll have to try that with Joan. Sometimes she can be kind of hard-headed."

You roll up your bag of cookies and reposition your pail on your arm so the metal doesn't dig into your skin.

"It was nice to meet you, Dustin," you say. "Goodbye, Steve and Robin."

"Wait!"

Steve holds the door for you and follows you out. He still smells sweet, like pineapple, and also a little woody. He touches the small of your back, sending a bolt of electricity down your spine.

"I have a first aid kit in my car. Let me wrap your cut."

"Oh." You'd forgotten about it. "Okay."

You follow Steve to his car. He pops the trunk and rummages. You spot a bat with nails.

"Very inventive," you say, pointing at the bat.

Steve laughs shyly. "Yeah, uh, the monsters."

"I definitely wouldn't want to fight you if I were a multi-dimensional monster."

He smiles and takes out a small spray bottle of disinfectant.

"This is gonna sting, okay? But we need to make sure nothing gets infected."

"An infection would be unfortunate," you say. "I'm quite attached to this finger."

He sprays and cleans your finger. You wince and Steve squeezes your wrist in apology. Then he pulls out bandaids.

"Any preference? I have rainbow, Star Wars, 'cause they're all a bunch of nerds, cats… oh, I have flowers! ‘Cause you’re, uh, Buttercup, you know?"

"Flowers," you say, because Steve's so excited about it.

He nods and opens the bandaid. You hold out your finger and Steve carefully wraps it. He rubs your knuckle.

"Thank you," you say.

"You're welcome. Be careful, okay?"

"I will."

He closes the trunk, swinging his keys on his finger.

"Sorry if that was awkward, by the way," he says. "Dustin, I mean. He can be… blunt."

"It wasn't awkward."

“It wasn’t?”

“No,” you say. “I’m happy you tell people about me. I tell Joan about you all the time.”

"Oh." He nods. "That—that’s good. So… we’re both… uh—”

"Do you want another lady's kiss?"

"What? Oh—" Steve clears his throat. "N-no, that's okay. Thanks."

You take out a raspberry cookie and bite into it.

"Your hair has product," you observe.

"Yeah. No secrets, though."

"Everybody's hair has secrets."

"Even yours?" he asks.

"Especially mine."

Steve rubs the back of his neck. You open your bag and take out another cookie. He looks like he's trying to find the right words to say. You don't mind waiting.

"Hey, do you like barbecue?" he asks.

"I like it as well as anybody else."

"Well, um, I'm having a barbecue this Saturday. Lucas won a big championship game and so we're celebrating his win."

"That's nice," you say. "Congratulations to Lucas."

"Yeah! So, um, did you maybe want to come too? It'll be at my house. You could bring a friend if you wanted. Like Joan."

"Joan is a vegetarian," you say. "But I'm sure she'd enjoy the company."

Steve smiles. He has such a pretty smile.

"We're ordering pizza too, so Joan can have some of that."

"You're a very thoughtful host.”

Then you have a terrible thought. But you have to ask it because if you don't, you might be breaking some kind of invisible expectation. You do that a lot.

"Does Debbie have to come?" you ask.

Steve blinks. "Uh, no? It's not a requirement."

"Some people ask me to parties because they want Debbie to come."

Steve frowns. "That's rude. I wouldn't do that."

"Okay. What time does the barbecue begin?"

"You can stop by anytime. But we'll probably start eating around six."

You nod. "Joan and I will be there at five thirty."

Steve's answering grin is blinding. He must be really excited to meet Joan. You get it; Joan's the life of any party she attends.

"Great, that's great. I'll see you then."

"Bye, Steve," you say.

"Bye," he answers like he's out of breath.

Even the way he breathes is pretty.

Every month, Miles Stanwick throws a party.

Miles is a celebrity in Hawkins, his father being a state senator, and Miles is, according to a drunk Debbie, “the Gatsby to her Daisy.”

You're pretty sure Debbie hasn't read the book. Or maybe she's a living tragedy. Either is possible.

It had been just you two in her room, without the Other Debbie she pretends to be to impress the people of Loch Nora, when she'd told you what it meant to be in love.

"You just know," she'd said, her breath reeking of tequila.

You'd turned your head. Tequila made your nose itch.

"But you love Brett," you'd said.

"Brett is who I'll marry," she'd corrected. She’d sounded so sad. "Miles is all I've got."

Then she'd thrown up all over her carpet. You'd helped her into bed and made a mental note to find her a friend like Joan to keep her company, for when you weren't around.

You don't like parties. They're loud and smelly and usually filled with people you don't like or don't know. And at a party, people you don't like and people you don't know are one and the same.

You would leave, but Debbie is your ride tonight. So you're stuck here until midnight, maybe even later.

Someone plugs in a karaoke machine and that gets most of the party's attention. The music is horribly loud and is the kind that’s just a lot of synthesizer.

A guy jumps onto the Stanwicks' coffee table and knocks over the potpourri dish. Dried petals and orange peels scatter across the carpet.

Debbie appears in front of you, a red Solo cup in her hand.

"What did I bring you here for?" she asks, mouth curled. "To slump on the couch?"

"No one here wants to talk," you say.

Debbie rolls her eyes. "Parties aren't for talking. They're for drinking and making out. Someone's rolling a blunt in the den. Go suck on that, will you?"

The people in Loch Nora are so good at making you feel two inches tall. You wish you'd brought Joan. She'd know what to do.

You've tried alcohol before. Champagne at a wedding. A sip of rum from the Wellermans' liquor cabinet, back when Debbie wasn't so caught up in being just like everyone else.

Maybe it's your fault, too. Maybe you're too good at standing out.

You go to the kitchen. It's already trashed. You step over a spill on the floor. Then you turn around and lay down some paper towels so no one will slip.

There are various bottles of strong liquor strewn across the counters. You decide to try the punch and fill your cup to the top. You sniff it and your nose wrinkles at the whiff of alcohol.

You so badly want to have fun. You want to know what makes all of this worth it. You want your friendship with Debbie to be worth it.

You down the punch in one go. It makes you cough and you scramble for water at the sink. You wonder if the punch is poisoned.

You wobble out of the kitchen a couple minutes later, head already woozy. A girl stands with a drink, one arm folded.

"Where's Debbie?" you ask. The girl winces and steps away from you.

"She went with Miles and some other people to the lake."

Your eyes widen. "No, they can't. There's monsters."

She looks at you like you might be an insect splattered on her dashboard.

"You're Debbie's weird friend, aren't you?"

Weird doesn't make you feel good, like Steve calling you strange did. Weird makes you feel like when a boy in sixth grade stepped on your heels while going up the stairs because he thought it was funny.

"Debbie would've told me," you say.

The girl shrugs. "Guess she ditched you. She can't score with Miles if you're killing the vibe."

Weird tastes like poison in your mouth.

"Debbie was my ride," you say, but she’s already gone.

Your head aches. You try to think on what to do next. It's nearly midnight. No one is awake, and you have no idea how to call a cab.

You find the Stanwicks' phone in the hall and dial the only number you know, besides your own, and the local pizzeria.

"Hello?"

You lean against the wall, phone in both hands.

"Uh, hello? Who is this?"

"H-hi, Westley." Your voice cracks.

"Hey," Steve says, unbearably gentle. "My favorite rock girl. Jesus, it's… midnight."

"I'm sorry," you say.

"No, no, it's alright. I'm just—is everything okay? Are you okay?"

"Debbie ditched me."

Silence. For a moment, you panic that the line's dropped.

"Steve?"

"Where are you?"

"I'm, um, at Miles Stanwick's. The address is… well, I don't remember, but I'll go outside and look for the house number—"

"I know it," Steve says. "Stay right there. I'm coming to get you. Don't drink any more."

Your lip wobbles. "'Kay."

"It's okay," he soothes. "Drink some water. Don't take anything from anybody."

"I just wanted to be fun," you blurt.

"You are fun, Buttercup. Way more fun than anybody at that house, I guarantee it. I'll be there in ten minutes, okay?"

"Okay. Thank you, Steve," you say, no longer feeling so small.

You hang up and go to the kitchen to get more water from the sink. Then you return to the hallway and sit, back against the wall, knees tucked into your chest.

You doze, lids heavy from the alcohol. The next thing you know are two hands on your arms.

You jolt awake. One hand cradles the back of your head so you don't thump it against the wall.

"Hey, hey." Steve kneels in front of you. He brushes your cheek with a cool knuckle. "It's me, it's Steve. Are you okay?"

His hands are cool against your overheated skin. He smells like lemon shampoo.

"My knight," you say.

"I thought Westley was a pirate."

“He was only pretending."

You let Steve ease you up. His car keys dig into your hip.

"Ow," you say dazedly.

"What? What hurts?"

"Keys."

"Oh." Steve shifts you to his opposite side, hand on your back. "Sorry, honey."

"Honey never spoils," you say. "Did you know that? You could dig up honey from a tomb that's thousands of years old and as long as it was stored in an airtight container, it's good to eat."

"I love that you know that."

"Do you really?"

"I really do," Steve says. "C’mon, let's get you home."

Outside, the moon is a dot of cream in the purple sky. The neighborhood is quiet. Most of the houses are also dark.

"I'm sorry for calling you so late," you say.

"Don't be. I'm glad you called me. These parties can get out of hand."

"Debbie left. She went to Lover's Lake with Miles—"

The panic returns, flooding your body. You squirm and Steve tries to keep you steady.

"Whoa, what's—"

"The monsters! There's monsters down there, Steve. I don't like Miles, but I don't want him to be eaten!"

"No, no, no more monsters," Steve assures you. "They can't come through there anymore."

You still. "Promise?"

"I promise."

He helps you into the passenger seat of his car. Steve leans in and pulls the seat belt over you.

"Comfy?" he asks.

"I like you so much, Steve Harrington."

It's too dark to tell, but you suspect he's got another case of sunstroke.

"I, um, like you too, Buttercup. You're really cool."

"Me?" You wave your hand. "No."

"Really," he insists. "You are. The coolest."

If you were Debbie, if you weren't weird in the wrong way, if you didn't go to parties to talk, and if you fit a million other criteria you never will, Steve would kiss you right now. Or maybe you'd kiss him.

But you don't know how to go about that. You don't think it's your right to do such a thing.

So Steve shuts the door and walks around to the driver's seat. You stare at your flower bandaid.

"Four three's," Steve says as he turns the ignition.

You turn your head. "Hmm?"

"The house number. Four three's. That's gotta be, like, astronomically bad luck, right?"

"Without a doubt."

Except you're here with Steve Harrington, and he calls you honey and thinks you're cool. And that doesn't seem like bad luck at all.

"I'm going to a barbecue," you call out.

There's no reply. You close the door behind you.

Joan sits in your pocket. You've tied a purple ribbon around her head, right above her googly eyes. You don't know what the dress code is for a barbecue, but you hope she's not underdressed.

You haven’t spoken to Steve since Miles’ party. You’re not sure what you should say, and you can’t bear the thought of calling him to hear silence.

Even if he doesn’t like you the way you like him, you hope he’ll still be friends with you. Steve and his kids have grown on you. You don’t know if you can go back to who you were before the hottest day of May.

“Material Girl” plays from inside Steve's backyard. You mouth the words as you fling your flip flops over the gate.

"What the fuck?" someone says from the other side.

You climb the gate and shimmy down. It's a good thing you're wearing shorts under your dress.

A boy, lanky and tall but probably Lucas's age, holds one of your flip flops. He stares at you and shakes the shoe.

"Is this yours?"

"Both of them are," you say. "Does Steve like Madonna?"

He grimaces. "Unfortunately."

"Cool."

You spot Steve sitting on one of the deck chairs with Robin and a boy your age with big, curly hair and a Led Zeppelin shirt with cropped sleeves.

"Venus" plays next and you wobble in time with the music as you walk over to Steve.

"Her weapons were her crystal eyes," you whisper. The pavement is warm under your toes.

"Making every man mad."

Steve turns just as you reach him. He stands so fast he shakes the chair.

"Hey!" he says. He sounds out of breath again. "Hey, you came."

"You invited me," you say.

"Yeah, yes." Steve nods. "I did. I'm glad you're here."

"You play good music."

"Ha!" Steve whips his head to look at the curly haired boy. "Suck it, Munson."

"She's obviously biased."

"Munson," you say. "Eddie Munson?"

Eddie freezes under your gaze. Robin and Steve glance at you.

"Yeah, uh, that's me." Eddie smiles weakly. "Look, you might've heard some stuff abou—"

"You helped fight the monsters," you interrupt. "You're very brave."

Eddie's eyes widen. "I—"

"Most people just like to ignore monsters. It takes a really good person to fight them." You turn to Steve. "Do you have orange Fanta?"

"Yeah, sure. I'll get you a can. Feel free to sit… where are your shoes?"

You point behind you. "Your bodyguard had to screen them after I climbed your gate. You have very tight security."

"After you climbed my… wait, Mike? God, I’m sorry about him. I'll get your shoes back."

"It's okay. Flip flops are dangerous weapons. It's only a matter of time before the airport bans them."

Steve tilts his head, eyes warm. "Right. I'll be back. That's Eddie and Robin… you know them."

"I know their names, and that's about all you can know about anybody."

Eddie giggles. You look at him. He doesn't seem to be laughing at you, so you sit where Steve was sitting, across from Eddie's chair. You point at his shirt.

"I like Kashmir."

"Thank God! Somebody with decent tastes."

"I'll listen to anything," you say. "It's important to be a good listener."

Eddie grins. "Words of the wise."

"Where's Joan?" Robin asks.

"Right here." You take Joan out of your pocket and set her down on the edge of the pool chair.

"Sick," Eddie says.

You nod. "The ribbon was my pick."

"I like it," Robin says.

"Thank you."

Steve returns with an orange Fanta for you and a root beer for Robin.

Robin points to Joan. "Steve, this is the famous Joan we've heard so much about."

"That's a rock," says Steve.

"Yep."

"Oh." He nods in understanding. "Joan is your pet rock?"

"Confidante," you correct. "’Pet’ is demeaning."

"Got it. And was Joan's sister also your confidante?"

"No. Joan's sister didn't like me much. She thought I was a bad influence on Joan. But we shouldn't talk about it now. Joan gets very sad when I bring it up."

You open your can. The carbonation hisses. It's itchy and sweet on your tongue.

"I like your hair," you say. "It's fluffy. Like it was on the hottest day of May."

Steve pushes a couple strands behind his ear.

"Thanks. The gel is too much on hot days like these. Weighs me down."

"At least you won't float away." You look at Eddie. "Is your hair full of secrets too?"

Eddie ruffles his hair. "Not as many as Steve's, but I've got a couple in here. 'S what gives my curls volume."

"Hm. Just as I suspected," you say.

"Ste-eve!" Dustin whines from across the yard. "You promised burgers!"

Steve rolls his eyes. "You'd think he's never been fed in his life."

Eddie pats his shoulder. "You've got this, Harrington."

"Oh, no. You wanna eat, you've gotta earn your keep. Come on."

Eddie groans, flinging himself off the chair. "Save me, Buckley!"

"Already did that," she says, pulling her sunglasses onto her eyes. "Never again."

"You should tie up your hair so it doesn't catch fire," you suggest.

"Well, at least somebody cares about me," Eddie declares, pulling his hair into a ponytail.

Steve turns to you and smiles softly.

"Are you hungry? You can have the first pick of the burgers."

"Won't Dustin be annoyed?"

Steve shrugs. "Kid could use some manners. Besides, pretty girls always get the first pick. It's the law."

You follow Steve and Eddie to the grill, pretty girl echoing in your brain the whole time.

Eddie's hair doesn't catch on fire and Steve makes you a perfect burger. The sun sparkles on the pool surface. The kids come out to eat and, predictably, Dustin complains about not getting the first burger.

"Not fair. Just 'cause she's your girlfriend," he mumbles as he goes off to search for the mustard.

You check to see if Steve had heard the comment. He doesn't seem to have; you can't decide if you're relieved or not.

The chairs are all taken by the time you finish fixing up your burger. Steve stands immediately as you approach.

“Here, take my seat,” he says.

“We can share,” you offer.

Steve lets you take the back of the chair, settling at the foot. “You Make My Dreams Come True” plays on the speakers.

“Whoever made this mixtape is a genius,” you announce.

“You like it?” says Steve. “I actually made this one. Robin and Eddie think my taste sucks, but—”

“It’s spectacular.”

He hums, ducking his head shyly. “Well, speaking of spectacular: I made more lemonade, if you want to test it before I unleash it upon the masses.”

“I’ll happily drink your lemonade,” you say. “It’ll build my iocane tolerance.”

Steve grins. “I rented The Princess Bride, by the way. I know you meant to get it a few weeks ago. We can watch it tonight, if you want.”

“You remembered I wanted to watch it,” you say.

He nods. “Well, uh, yeah. Do you still want to? If you don’t, I can—”

“I do,” you say. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, of course.” Steve stands, hand outstretched so you’ll give him your empty plate. “I’m going inside. Anybody want anything?”

“Doritos!” Robin shouts.

“Napkins, please,” El says.

“Cherry Coke!” Mike calls.

“Beer!” Eddie whoops.

“Doritos, napkins, got it. The cooler is right there, Wheeler, and are you kidding, Eddie? No drinking by the pool. Have we not learned our lesson from the last four years?”

“Bold of you to assume I’ve learned anything, Steven.”

“Can you bring us popsicles?” Max asks. “Lemon and grape.”

“Ooh, popsicles sound good,” says Robin. “Bring me one too. Fruit punch.”

Steve sighs, lifting his arms.

“Two hands, guys. Only got two.”

“I can help,” you offer.

“Now that’s a great idea,” Robin says. “The two of you in the kitchen, alone. Really brilliant, don’t you think, Steve?”

Steve glares at her. Then he turns to you, expression softening.

“That’d be great, thank you.”

You follow him into the kitchen. It looks exactly like the last time you were here, except for the food. Steve opens the freezer and digs through the box of popsicles. Then he takes the pitcher of lemonade out of the fridge and sets it on the counter.

“Can you get the Doritos?” he asks. “They’re up there.”

You open a shelf over the stove. The chips are at the very top. You try jumping; all that does is bang your ribs into the counter.

"Whoa, whoa.”

Steve’s hand rests on your back. Your stomach swoops.

"Easy, Buttercup. I’ll get it, sorry ‘bout that."

You frown. "The Doritos have eluded me."

"They’re a tricky bunch," he says, reaching and successfully grabbing the chips.

"I knew you’d best me and succeed."

"Best you?"

"Yes," you say. "Like in a duel."

Steve tilts his head, a tiny crinkle forming in the center of his brows.

"Are we going to duel? Like Inigo and Westley?"

"Not if I can help it," you say. "I'm terrible with a sword."

"I would never try to sword fight you."

"I appreciate that."

His hand slips from your back. You watch it fall to his side.

“Feel free to help yourself to whatever you want,” Steve says as he takes a glass out of the cupboard. “You can also take food home.”

You exhale through your nose and wiggle your fingers a little, trying to stave off the nerves. You wish Joan was in your pocket right now, but you left her on the deck chair.

“Buttercup?”

You look up. Steve has a glass of lemonade in one hand. The top button of his polo shirt is undone. Was it always undone? You can’t remember.

Anyway, he’s beautiful. And you’re so damn strange.

“Yes, Westley?”

Steve smiles. You don’t think anyone has ever smiled at you as much as Steve does.

“Everything okay?” he asks.

He puts the glass in front of you. You glance at it, then back at him.

“Everything’s fine.”

“Are you sure? I won’t force you to drink my crappy lemonade if you don’t want to, y’know.”

“You called me strange,” you blurt. “When we first met.”

Steve’s eyes widen.

“I didn’t mean it in a bad way,” he says softly. “But I won’t call you that anymore if you don’t like it.”

“No, I–I know you didn’t mean it in a bad way. But…”

He nods, encouraging you to continue.

“I’m not like Debbie,” you say.

“I know.”

“I’ll probably never be like Debbie.”

“I much prefer you as yourself,” he says.

“Oh.”

You sip your lemonade. Your lips pucker but you smile all the same.

“Damn,” Steve says with a chuckle. “I really can’t nail that lemonade, huh?”

“It’s wonderful,” you whisper.

He takes a step forward. You set the glass on the counter.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks.

“I would very much like that.”

Steve’s lips are slightly chapped. You taste like lemonade and he tastes like Coke and God, you like it so much.

You loop your arms around his neck like you’ve wanted to do for weeks. He returns in kind, both hands slipping to your waist.

It’s not just a boy kissing you. It’s Steve.

The sliding glass door whooshes open and you jerk your head back in surprise. Max and Dustin trod in.

Dustin shrieks.

“Seriously? This is what was taking you so long?”

“If you were gonna do that, we would’ve gotten the popsicles ourselves,” Max says with a huff, grabbing the popsicles and chips from the counter.

“Told ya they were making out!” comes Eddie’s voice from outside. “I warned you, kiddies!”

They clear out, with one last stink eye from Dustin. Steve shakes his head, nose pressed to your cheek.

“Again, very sorry about them.”

“They wanted to check in on their favorite babysitter,” you say.

Steve lifts his head and rolls his eyes. “I need a padlock or something.”

You hum and lean over to unwrap a popsicle.

“Oh,” you say. “Three left.”

“Three popsicles?”

“Mmhm.”

“Well, that explains it. Astronomical bad luck, right?”

“Actually,” you say, leaning in for another kiss. “I think my theory was wrong.”

#steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x yn #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x female reader #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington imagine #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #stranger things

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princessedesfleursss · 2 months

Note

please read this!

Hello I love your work! Can you please write a piece based on “Virgo’s groove” by Beyoncé for Carlos Sainz and female reader? I would appreciate if you do or even read this!

*hiii. tysmm, i'm glad you enjoy my work. here's the piece i wrote on what you requested, not sure if it's what you wanted but i hope you end up liking it!

CS55R1

Pairing: carlos sainz x fem!reader

Genre: blurb/ fluff

Warnings: making out, being horny, teasing and kissing, a smol bday date

It was Carlos’s birthday the day tomorrow and since he wanted to celebrate it back in Spain with his family, you decided to have a little birthday rendezvous with the birthday boy himself. Earlier this morning, you had sent Carlos a sneaky text with the address of the hotel room you were at. He had obediently followed the given place and knocked on the door right at the time you had asked him to be there.

He came in, his eyes ravishing your figure in the ‘barely-a-dress’ dress you were wearing. His hands, immediately went over to the back of your thighs, trying to sneak them up to your bum. Giggling in the middle of the kiss, you pushed yourself away from him,

“Not now, pretty boy.”

“Come on baby. It’s not fair you’re teasing me after asking me out for lunch.”

Smiling at him with a proud smirk, you sat him down at the set up on the balcony. Standing behind him, you glided yours hands over his chest and leaned closer to the shell of his ear whispering, “Consider me dessert.”

You felt Carlos let out a low a groan from within his chest at the mere thought of taking you right here before eating.

“That is if you behave well, birthday boy,” you added another condition to what you promised him earlier.

Sitting yourself down in front of him, you motioned him to start lunch. Upon opening the lid to the first dish, Carlos chuckled at your lousy but creative version of a birthday cake with a candle- stuck to a steak was a candle. You took out a lighter and lit the candle that was placed on the stake.

Singing him happy birthday, you watched as Carlos blew out the candles and then looking back up at you with a devious glance enough to make you wet.

“Stoppp looking at me like that,” you teased him.

He simply shrugged and continued lunch. You began eating too as songs from the local radio made use by serving as the back ground music to your little date. Fond stories were shared over wine and for a while you and Carlos were not on the verge of jumping onto each other because you were both borderline horny.

That was all until you decided to drag him for a dance. Moving the small table into the hotel room, you made space in the balcony.

“Baby come over,” you urged Carlos to move closer to you as you wrapped your arms around his neck and Carlos pulled you flush against his chest, an all too familiar move for him.

You mouthed the words of the song that was going on, playfully moving your body in rhythm to the song. Carlos too played along, twirling you multiple time and bringing you in even closer to his body than before.

“There's nothing that I want as much as I want you,” you sang along to the lyrics.

Carlos leaned down to kiss you, and moved his face towards your neck, nipping at the skin and surely leaving love marks all scattered. Meanwhile you danced to the song and kept up with the lyrics while a turned on Carlos attempted kissing every inch of your body.

“And I need more nudity and ecstasy, oh,” you gasped as he turned you around, your back pressing his sturdy chest now.

His hands snaked around your waist, and his lips went into a frenzy of kisses across the side of your neck. You moaned as he tried humping against you.

“Carlossss, everyone can see us,” you warned him, the song in the background long forgotten.

“I don’t care really,” he said as he lifted up his face to switch sides to kiss the other side of your neck, “All I want is you now baby.”

You let one of your hands reach backward to entangle in his dark locks and let the other rest on the arm he had around you.

“Then have me,” you moaned back at him.

Carlos lifted you off your feet and brought you into the hotel room, throwing you lightly onto the fluffy bed. Wedging a knee between your legs and caging your face in between his hands, Carlos pecked your forehead lightly.

“I love you so much.”

“I love you too baby,” you reciprocated his words and caressed his cheek, “And a happy early birthday.”

He smiled down at you and went back to pepper your face with kisses.

392 notes · View notes

rinhaler · 6 months

Text

We Groove and We Dance

CHAPTER SUMMARY: After Megumi destroyed your art coursework, you decide to skip class the following day and start fresh. But Yuuji invites you to a paint party you can't resist. Hopefully nothing goes wrong!

boyfriend!yuuji itadori x f!reader x bully!megumi fushiguro

WARNINGS : 18+, dubcon/noncon, consensual dry humping, bullying, fingering, drugging, choking, degradation, bladder failure (NOT piss kink), vomiting, marking??? clubbing, choking.

WORDS : 5.7k

notes : damn megumi's kind of a dick huh asdfghjhgf

LAST CHAPTER ┊ MASTERLIST ┊ NEXT CHAPTER

You didn’t dare utter a word when you got into Yuuji’s car. It was just as well, really, because he kept blathering on about his class. Apparently one of his classmates took a huge fall while jumping hurdles. It was embarrassing for the boy, but hilarious for all of those who witnessed.

Normally you’d be laughing with Yuuji. His laugh is so contagious, and his smile is the type that could make you smile too, no matter how upset or angry you were. But not today. Today your heart is thumping, if not for the music Yuuji is blaring in the car, you’re certain he would have heard the sound of your vital organ pounding against your ribcage. Your eyes are hollow. All you could do was face forward out of the front window and hope to get home as soon as possible. You keep replaying the moment that made you temporarily mute over and over in your mind. That wasn’t you. You’ve never felt that way before. Pure, unadulterated hatred. The way you destroyed Megumi’s sketchbook wasn’t normal. The insane laughter that followed wasn’t normal either. It’s like he broke you. Is that his plan?

Is Megumi Fushiguro trying to break you?

The first word you spoke to Yuuji since you stepped into his car was a sharp ‘no!’ after he asked if you wanted to get a McDonald’s before you headed home.

All you want is the comfort and safety of your house. You want to lock yourself away and forget every single thing that happened today.

As soon as you step foot inside, you slam the door behind you and lock it instantly. Your boyfriend turns to face you with a raised brow, he knows something is going on and he isn’t the type to ignore his intuition. But instead of questioning you, he pulls you closer to him by your wrist and gently kissed at your neck. His sweet lips were tickling you and even in your terrified state you couldn’t help but giggle.

“Do you wanna talk about it baby?” he asks you.

“I don’t think I should…” you whimper, nuzzling yourself into his chest.

He squeezes you tighter, closer to his body. Repeatedly smothering the crown of your head in quick, loving kisses.

“Do you wanna sit on my face while you talk about it?” he teases, kissing you again as he waited for your answer. You’re pretty sure it was a joke, but you know how much Yuuji loves eating you out, so if you actually wanted to do that, he’d be more than happy to oblige. You softly push him away and fake-punch his arm.

“Not today.” you speak, turning away from him to go into your bedroom.

What you do want, is a nap.

You don’t even have the energy to put any pyjamas on. After getting yourself down to your panties and bare chest, you collapse on top of your mattress and curl into a ball. Yuuji follows you into the bedroom, he didn’t pressure you to talk, but he rests his hand on your shoulder as your body rises and falls while you sob silently.

“I hate seeing you like this, try and get some sleep. Okay?” he tells you, you can’t answer with words. But you nod in agreement. “Do you want me to get you anything?” he wonders. You shake your head in response. He leans over to kiss your cheek. He stays with you for a while, until he's sure you’ve drifted off. It didn’t take too long for the pressure of the day and your crying to knock you out into a heavy nap.

You needed this.

You really needed this.

Three hours.

You napped for three hours.

You wake up at 8pm, confused and agitated. You were slightly irritated that Yuuji didn’t wake you, because you knew you wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight now that you’ve slept to such a ridiculous time. When you get out of bed, you pull on one of Yuuji’s old t-shirts and leave your room to find him.

But you can’t be mad.

You couldn’t be mad at him after you told him you didn’t need anything, but he went to the store anyway. He was sitting comfortably on the sofa, eyes drooped, clearly bored of whatever he is watching on the TV. In front of him is a spread-out selection of chocolate, crisps, biscuits and gummy sweets. His eyes widen when he notices you, and that trademark smile of his sprawls across his face.

“I didn’t know what to get, so I got all of your favourites.” he tells you as he rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. Tears began to prick at your eyes. It had been a hard, draining day. And yet, even without telling him a single thing he managed to brighten your mood. “I rented The Shining too, it’s your favourite right?”

“Right.” you earnestly smile, completely touched that he went to so much effort for you.

“Even though you get scared every single time we’ve watched it together.” he taunts playfully, he begins to pat the space beside him on the sofa inviting you to sit down.

“Don’t poke fun, it’s not my fault Jack Nicholson is such a convincing actor! He’s amazing and—”

“Yeah yeah, save it for the movie princess. You can do your own commentary you’ve seen it so many times.” he interrupts before you could finish your sentence. He was right though. You could talk about the film the entire time about what you like about it and little tidbits you knew.

And he’d let you.

He’d let you and he’d smile while you did it.

The amount of snacks you consumed is criminal. You actually think you might die or explode at any minute. Yuuji ate even more than you did, and you couldn’t believe he was fine. You don’t know where he puts it, you’d be impressed if you didn’t feel so violently sick from over consumption. The movie ends, but you couldn’t be bothered to move from your cosy spot. You’d gotten yourself comfortable, nestled into Yuuji’s chest while he held an arm around you.

A squeal rips from your chest as Yuuji picks you up in his arms bridal style. You forget how strong he is. The way he holds you makes you feel like you weigh nothing at all. It was disappointing that he didn’t carry you all of the way to bed. Instead, he dropped you off in the bathroom. He wetted your toothbrush for you and put on some toothpaste before he did the same for himself. You were grateful, because of the lack of energy you had you knew you wouldn’t have done it otherwise. You’re looking at each other as you brush in the mirror above the sink. Foam forming in both of your mouths. After you both spit, he pokes harshly at your chest. You pull the fabric assuming he means you dribbled a bit. But when you’re at your most vulnerable he takes the opportunity to lift his finger and flick your nose. You try to begin playfighting with him; but he instantly grabs your wrists and throws you over his shoulder.

“Nice try.” he laughs.

Yuuji opens the bedroom window as far as it’ll go before turning on the fan he bought for the room. The heat is unbearable, and the fact you were both full of food wasn’t helping matters either. He lay on his back while you turn away from him facing the window. He slips a hand up the back of your shirt and began to delicately trace with his fingers, knowing the tickling sensation helps you sleep.

You pluck up the courage to tell Yuuji an idea you’ve had before you drift off to sleep for the night.

“I’m not going to uni tomorrow.” you tell him bluntly.

There’s an uncomfortable silence. It’s a beat of silence that’s somehow filled with a boisterous amount of noise that makes your stomach churn. There’s not a word spoken. But you can hear the irritation in your boyfriend’s throat as he coughs to clear it. You can feel the way his relaxed face tenses and contracts as a scowl forms. It’s impossible to miss the furrowing of his brows, the squinting of his eyes or the clenching of his teeth.

“Fushiguro said something to you, didn’t he?” he almost grunts.

It's so easy to love Yuuji. It's so easy to be hopelessly in love with him, because he just knows you. It’s not even been a year since you began dating but he can read you like a book. You should have known, really, because he’s always like this. He knows how to read between the lines and know exactly what you mean. Anyone else would assume you were just skipping, taking some personal time off to be lazy and lounge around. But not Yuuji. Because he really knows you. He knows that you don’t take time off unless you absolutely have to. He had to battle with you to stay home around Christmas time when you caught a winter cold.

So what other reason would you want to stay home other than Megumi Fushiguro?

“Tell me what he said.” he demands. You could feel him burning holes into the back of your head as he awaits an answer.

“He didn’t—”

“Don’t lie to me. Don’t cover for him. You need to tell me, now.” he says as his volume increased. It scares you a little. He’s never been angry with you before, so he’s never had any reason to raise his voice or yell. But you know he isn’t angry with you, he’s angry at him.

“Please. Yuuji please I don’t want to talk about it. I promise he didn’t do anything I just,” you pause, feeling the tears well in your eyes again while you thought about it. You couldn’t stand Megumi. You couldn’t stand that he was making you lie to your boyfriend for the first time ever. It wasn’t like you were planning on keeping it to yourself forever. You just needed a plan. You needed time to think. “It wasn’t his fault, really, it was mine. He was showing me some ink and I spilled it all over my sketchbook and ruined everything. I’m just a little stressed since I’m gonna have to start all over. I just… I need tomorrow to myself to try and make a new body of work.”

He's silent again. You can hear him breathing heavily, he’d wound himself up thinking about Megumi upsetting you. He's trying to steel himself so he doesn’t snap. His resolve and agitation crumble when you rolled over to face him. Your big teary doe eyes staring up at him so innocently, he couldn’t stay mad when you were like this.

“I know you’re lying to me.” he speaks.

“’m not!”

“Stop it,” he snaps a little, shutting his eyes to compose himself again. “I’m not gonna pressure you to talk to me. If you’re hellbent on covering for him that’s on you. Take the day off, I’ll keep out of his way. But please, please baby, talk to me and tell the truth when you’re ready.” he tells you.

It broke your heart a little when he rolled away from you. In the nine months you’ve been together, he’s never forgotten to kiss you goodnight. He wasn’t forgetting to do it now. He wasn’t kissing you on purpose.

He really is mad at you.

“… Yuuji, I love you.”

“I love you.”

It still stung how your night ended with Yuuji. It was killing you knowing that you really had upset him and made him so cross with you.

You wake up at 6am, your jagged sleep from your ill-timed nap made you groggy and exhausted. When your eyes open, you turn to see Yuuji with his arm wrapped around your waist. Like he couldn’t resist you.

You free yourself from his hold, leaving the bedroom and heading for the kitchen to get yourself some breakfast. You didn’t have the energy to find something to watch while you scarf down your cereal, so you turn on the first morning breakfast show you came across. You don’t care about a single thing they're talking about; it's like white noise while you crunch away.

You wash your bowl when you finished, instantly finding a new sketchbook in the cupboard you bought for your next project. You’d have to remember to buy another new one for next semester. You're exhausted, completely drained and miserable. Anything you produce will probably pale in comparison to your original book, but there's no time to waste and you need a head start on your absent day.

Yuuji got up two hours later. Lazily wandering around as he dresses himself and gathers everything he needs for his class. He says a quick goodbye before grabbing onto the door handle to leave.

“Don’t I get a kiss?” you ask. You feel absolutely pathetic. You never thought you’d be the type of girl to be so needy and crave validation from your partner. But he’s never been like this with you before. He’s always been so affectionate and loving with you, so this new side of him made you insecure and uncomfortable.

But ever the perfect boyfriend, he approaches you to give you the kiss you so desperately desire. It's quick with not much passion behind it. He gives you a half-hearted smile before getting up to leave again.

“I love you.” you tell him.

He halts his actions when he hears your voice break. Tears threatening to break free from your eyes yet again. He comes back closer to you, giving you a romantic, passionate kiss against your yearning lips. Yuuji pulls away to kiss your forehead, before looking intently into your sodden eyes.

“Baby. I love you. So. Much.” he insists, it's all he needs to say to reassure you. Your heart pounds as the tears break free from your eyes. It's a relief. He waves goodbye before he finally leaves.

You have the whole entire day to yourself. And you're spending every single hour from now until bedtime painting and getting your sketchbook up to scratch. And now that Yuuji isn’t mad (or at least as mad) at you anymore, you feel confident you can do this.

When 2pm comes around, you feel ravenous. The hunger pangs you’ve been furiously trying to ignore are becoming unbearable. You ordered takeout so that you wouldn’t have to waste time cooking that you could be spending painting. You were working up to the very last minute until the doorbell rang. You hold your paintbrush between your teeth as you answer, warranting a very awkward look from the delivery boy. You kick the door closed with the back of your foot, instantly diving into the pizza box to satiate your starvation.

You moan loudly as soon as the dough and cheese combination hit your tongue, the taste makes you consider whether you prefer the flavour of the food or sex with your boyfriend.

It's a consideration you’d be keeping to yourself.

– ping –

You just about die when the notification comes through on your phone. It's only a text from Yuuji. You open it quickly, it's a link to a Facebook event. It was bright and colourful, quite contrasting to the club it was associated with.

PAINT PARTY @ INDEPENDENT

You scroll down to see that Yuuji has added both of your names to the guest list.

YUUJI: I know ur busy with ur coursework, but maybe? It’s tonight only. x

You don’t reply instantly. It’s been a while since you’ve been to Independent, or Indie as it’s more commonly known amongst students. It’s your favourite club. It’s a little dingy but it’s huge and the drinks are cheap. It’s favoured amongst students since the first and second floors have different vibes. The main room downstairs plays old school R&B and hip-hop, whereas upstairs has a smaller room that plays indie music. They have a special blue and pink drink you can’t get anywhere else. You know a girl who has the signature drink tattooed on her body, so she gets free entry for life. Your phone pings again when you take a little while to reply.

YUUJI: We don’t have to go. But it’s been a while since we went, and we always have fun! x

YOU: No ur right. Lets go!! xx🥰

It’s embarrassing to be honest, how quickly your determined resolve crumbles. You internally mock yourself as you get ready for the paint party.

'I’m gonna work all day until bedtime.' Pfft.

You decide to slick your hair back, it’s glamourous and easy which is best since it’ll likely be covered in paint before the nights out.

You hear the door slam and Yuuji instantly rushes towards the bathroom. He slams the door after himself, but rushes instantly back out to come and greet you.

“Hi,” he kisses your cheek, panting from being so energetic around the house. “this came for you, looks like it’s from your parents.” he tells you, dropping a letter in front of you before rushing back to the bathroom.

Your vision drops to the letter in front of you. It’s got your mother’s dainty elegant handwriting on the front and your stomach churns as you flip to see a gorgeous pink wax seal with your family crest on the front.

Not today. This is a problem for tomorrow me.

Once you’ve finished with your hair, you apply a quick helping of gloss and other finishing touches to your makeup. You opt to don a pair of old jeans and a plain white t-shirt. You’re not willing to sacrifice your gorgeous wardrobe for the sake of a paint party. Part of you worries that you’ll look out of place and like you haven’t made an effort, but you’re sure everyone else attending will likely have had the same idea.

Yuuji steps out of the shower, a towel wrapped around his waist and abs glistening from the water trickling down his body. Your heart is pounding. He looks good enough to eat and he smirks when he clocks that you’re ogling him. You get out of your dressing table seat and approach him. He’s wise to you though, because as soon as you reach to unravel his towel, he grabs your wrist and tuts.

“I just showered princess.”

“But—”

“You’re so cute when you’re needy. Are you wet? Look at ya, squirming around like that f’me.” he continues to tease, pushing you backwards so you fall backwards onto the bed with him on top of you. Both of your hands are pinned above your head with one of his. Your chest is heaving. You need him. And you need him now.

You start to grind on his thigh slowly, trying to ease the tension building between your thighs. A cheeky grin finds it’s way on his face as he’s amused by how desperate you’re acting, your cunt longing to feel him inside of you. He starts to move his thigh to help you, but stops as soon as he starts, knowing that you shouldn’t

“Please, Yuuji please. Just a quickie, I’ll do the work.” you beg pitifully, bucking your hips quicker so you gain some more friction against your core.

“No baby. Maybe when we get home,” he said with a wicked smile on his face, “we always have great drunk sex, don’t we?”

There’s a line outside of the club as you step out of the cab. But that is the line for people who came to the club without putting their names on the Facebook guest list. Yuuji takes your hand as he guides you up to the stamp lady sitting in the booth, telling her both of your names. He’s such a gentleman, he even pays the fee for the pair of you to get in. She instantly finds you both and stamps your hands so you can go inside. Your eyes glimmer as both yours and Yuji’s white t-shirts illuminate under the UV lights once you get inside.

He noticed you were feeling a little insecure over your outfit choice, so he copied you.

White t-shirt and jeans.

You needn’t have worried though, your suspicions were correct. Everyone else in the club seems to have a similar idea to dress simpler rather than going all out. Some people were dressed more scantily than others, but it was all in good fun.

There are members of staff on the balconies above your head. They have enormous plastic guns in their hands that they're shooting down into the crowd. The bright colours make instant contact with you and your boyfriend, and he turns to face you when he hears you squeal and laugh over the pounding bass.

“Let’s get a drink.” he shouts in your ear so that you could hear him. You nod as you let him lead you through the crowd and to the bar.

The bar area is a lot more deserted. There are a few groups sitting in booths and others on bar stools waiting for their drinks. You order the pink and blue special, while Yuuji opted to get himself a bottle of beer.

You’re sure he’ll be switching to pints later as the night goes on.

You notice an odd-looking boy with black hair approach your partner. He taps him on the shoulder, but Yuuji doesn’t notice. You tap him instead, and when he faces you, you nod in the direction of the boy.

“Junpei!” your boyfriend exclaims as he engulfs his friend in a hug. They exchange pleasantries and Yuuji introduces you to his friend. “I didn’t think this was your thing Junpei, nice to see ya.” he smiles happily.

“I got invited and saw your name on the guest list and thought why not! It’s been a while.” he explains.

You’re told that they were friends in high school, but Junpei went to a different university to study psychology. You stand up to leave, telling Yuuji you need the bathroom.

“I’ll come with you.” he says as he stands up to follow you, but you stop him.

“I’ll be fine Yuuji! Junpei, keep him out of trouble while I’m gone.” you joke, making everyone smile hard enough to form apples in their cheeks.

You wade through the crowds again, getting doused in paint as you do. All of the colours and mess are so pretty, the people in the crowd look amazing and it’s making you so giddy to be part of such an electric atmosphere.

When you reach the top of the stairs, your heart stops as you see a familiar head of uncontrollable black hair outside of the toilets. You’re instantly regretting not telling Yuuji to accompany you.

It’s Fushiguro.

He’s got a girl pinned against the wall, his face is covering hers, but you can hear her moaning. You realise outside of his pretty exterior he has no class or manners, which you probably should have known sooner. But seeing him publicly finger a girl outside of some club toilets is the icing on the cake.

She’s insatiable, her fingers don’t know where to settle. You see them travel through his hair, on his arm, his waist. She’s got to be faking it. She’s being impossibly loud and irritating. You attempt to back away slowly, before he can notice you. But the fraction of a second he decides to observe his surroundings, he sees you. He whispers something in the girls ear before she rushes away down the other side of the corridor. He sticks his two fingers in his mouth and sensually sucks the strangers juices as he approaches you. You try to turn and run but he’s faster than you. Grabbing your wrist with his free hand and slamming you against the wall.

He hikes up your leg to rest on his hip, and he’s grinding into you with his face burrowed into your neck. Your voice has been stolen from you and you’re frozen once again. You know he’s not trying to seduce you or fuck you. He’s putting on a show for everyone standing close by. Because while people will think you’re a ravenous young couple dry humping in public, while people will think he’s kissing your neck, he’s whispering obscenities in your ear.

“I missed you in class today.” he begins, his left hand travelling to settle on your raised hip. “That was a clever fucking present you left in my sketchbook sweetheart.” he grimaces, clearly losing his cool as he relives the discovery of his ruined art.

“I’m sorr—”

“Shut. Up.” he spits, silencing you completely. “I had you down for a pussy. I didn’t think you’d fight back, and it was only fair after all. An eye for an eye.” he tells you a little more calmly. You’re still terrified. He smiles menacingly when he can feel you trembling under his grip.

“Please let go.” you whimper.

He rests his forehead against yours, his eyes are filled with malice. They’re bloodshot and furious. His smile bares almost every single tooth in his mouth as each corner stretches as close to his ears as possible. He moves both of his hands, wrapping each of them around your neck. And squeezes tight.

“I don’t like playing fair. You cunt. Did you really think I was going to let you get away with that?” he snaps. You were clawing at his hands, but it did no good. Tears began to stream down your face from the lack of oxygen, desperately trying to take some in.

“I can’t- breathe, Meg- umi- can’t,” you struggle, hoping he’d take pity on you. His jaw bubbles slightly as he held eye contact with you, and let you go with a flourish.

You fell to the ground, taking in screeching inhales as you held your tremoring fingers around your swollen throat. Without looking you could already feel the black and blue blemishes discolouring your sensitive neck. He looms over your defenceless frame as you try to recover.

He isn’t smiling.

He isn’t angry.

If not for what he just did, he’d just be Megumi the moody new boy. It was alarming to you how quickly he could turn it on and off. He turns his back to you and heads down the opposite end of the corridor. You take your opportunity to scurry to your feet and rush back to your boyfriend.

The time was creeping up to 2:30am. You managed to calm down before you joined with Yuuji and Junpei so he didn’t suspect a thing.

It's calmer with him, you know you're safe with his arm wrapped around your shoulder as he converses with Junpei and his friends. Your group alternates between going to the dancefloor and getting covered in paint and hanging out in the bar area and enjoying your drinks. Whenever you need the bathroom after your encounter with Megumi you ask Yuuji to escort you. He was a little drunk, but not too out of it to look after you.

Your sides were splitting from laughter while hanging out with Yuuji and his friends all evening. Their humour and the combination of flowing alcohol is almost enough to take your mind off being attacked.

It felt good to forget.

So, you keep drinking more… and more… and more…

“I never thought we’d see the day miss perfect gets drunk.” a friendly feminine voice speaks from the bar stool behind you.

When you turn to face the source, it’s two of your classmates. In particular, the Megumi fan club. You’ve never seen them in a club setting before, it was understandable that they didn’t think you had this side to you. It's almost embarrassing trying to formulate a response for them, you're hiccupping and slurring your words like a fool. But they're bubbly and joyous and make you feel good, you feel welcome in their little group.

You're surprised however since they seemed furious that you dared to befriend their dear Megumi.

“My friend just texted me from the dancefloor, did you know Gojo is here?” you hear Junpei speak from the other side of you. Itadori yells loudly in excitement as you turn to face them. “Shall we go see him?” Junpei follows up.

“Nah,” he tells the group as he squeezes you tighter. “I’ll see him if he comes to get a drink.”

“Y-Yuuji,” you hiccup, “don’t stay because of me, go and see your friend!” you command, not wanting to spoil his evening.

“I’m not leaving you.” he speaks plainly.

“We’ll look after her.” your classmates speak.

You both turn your attention to the girls who were grinning from ear to ear. You smile back at the offer, their smiles feel sincere and you feel safe to stick with them all night while your boyfriend reunites with his friend. But you turn your body back to look at him to gauge his reaction. He’s so loving and protective, you aren’t sure he’s be willing to risk leaving you while you're drunk with two people he doesn’t know.

“Are they friends of yours?” Yuuji asks. You nod quickly.

“They’re in my class.” you almost bark at him in your intoxicated state. He gives them a look. He’s assessing them carefully; you can see the cogs whirring in his mind as he’s debating whether he trusts them enough to leave you in their care.

“Okay,” he speaks before kissing you on the forehead. He looks deeply into your eyes, almost begging you to pay attention and pleading that you’ll process what he’s telling you. “I’ll only be in the room next door. Come and find me if you need me.” he says, a serious look etched on his features.

“I- duh, I will.” You respond almost mockingly. He knows you don’t mean it, you’ve had one too many pink and blue pints.

“Please take care of her. I won’t be long.” he tells them.

You wave goodbye, but you don’t even get the chance to watch him leave as your friends spin your stool around to face the bar. ‘Shots!’ They both scream, ordering a round. They also order you another pink and blue pint to accompany the one you hadn’t finished. You're all laughing and joking. It's nice to bond with more people on your art course, you usually just keep to yourself and do your work, but you're always friendly and approachable whenever anyone speaks to you.

The girls ask you so many questions, taking a genuine interest in you. It's hard to answer in your drunken state of mind, but you do your best. You all connect over stories of your lives. Things like ex-boyfriends and vacation stories, all of which made you laugh and smile. The drinks keep flowing and there's no sign of your boyfriend returning. You're worried he’d panic if you left your spot, but when you all agree that you need a bathroom trip you couldn’t resist.

When you all stand up from the stools, the girls stand on either side of you and take one of your hands. It's so sweet, so you won’t lose each other in the crowd as you try to find your way.

You feel so dizzy, so sick and uncomfortable, you aren’t even sure how you're standing up.

Thankfully your new friends manage to pull you up the stairs and to the girls bathroom. When you enter, the three of you make a beeline for the famed ‘twin toilets’ the girls toilets were known for. It's a cubicle that's double the size of the others, so there's room for a plus one or a plus two for a toilet trip. The blonde girl sat down first, but she was just sitting on the lid. She didn’t pull her panties down to pee, it was like she was just taking a load off her feet.

“How long does it take to work?” the redhead asks her friend while she lords above her.

You lost your balance and fell on your backside. Both of your legs were stretched out in front of you while your back rests on the cubicle wall. Your head slouches forward and you can’t keep your eyes open while you try to focus on not puking.

“Please… please guys I need to—”

You were interrupted with the feeling of warmth travelling through your jeans. You were unable to feel embarrassed as you knew what was happening. But your mind is so completely and utterly fucked you couldn’t bring yourself to care enough.

“Oh my god, it’s working. Did you just piss yourself? Ew…” the blonde asks and giggles, her friend joining in.

You're about to speak, to defend yourself. It was their fault for not letting you go first. But while you try to find the words, vomit escapes you instead. It covered your chin and white t-shirt. You're a pathetic drunken mess covered in paint, pee and sick. The girls were in hysterics at your misfortune.

“Fucking gross. That’s so nasty,” the redhead exclaims, still cackling. “That pill Megumi told us to slip in her drink was really strong, huh.” she muses to her partner in crime as they look down at you.

You lose all ability to be coherent or focused. So, with the final blow of that earth shattering sentence, your eyes close and you fell backwards onto the sticky club toilet floor.

You don’t remember anything after that. You don’t remember the girls cutting open your t-shirt and writing bitch on your chest in blood-red lipstick. You don’t remember them leaving you and shutting the door carefully behind them so no one would notice you. You don’t remember the kind woman who did notice you, helping you up. You don’t remember that same woman and her other friend carrying you through the club while you repeatedly babbled musings of

'Yuuji… Yuuji… Yuuji…'

You don’t remember finally finding him, and him crying out in heartbreak as he saw your miserable beaten frame in the arms of those women. You don’t remember him taking you home in Gojo’s car, the designated driver of his own group he was out partying with.

You don’t remember sleeping for 45 hours straight.

329 notes · View notes

judeswhore · 1 year

Text

don’t call me baby - jude bellingham

summary: jude isn’t happy you brought a date to the monthly hangout and jealousy gets the better of him

pairing: situationship!jude x fem!reader

warnings: 18+, minors dni, fingering, choking

notes: you can find my masterlist here. kinda based on this ask that i got

"ow, what're you doing? get off." jude clicked his tongue at your tone and the way you yanked your arm from his grip, pushed you lightly through the bathroom door. he locked it behind you, leant up against it with a deep frown. you hated him for looking so hot when he was clearly pissed off at you. you matched his glare with one of your own. "what do you want?"

"you brought a date?" it was mostly an amused scoff but you heard the hard edge of annoyance in the last word, a stab of victory flaring inside of you. you folded your arms and leant back against the bathroom counter, the few feet between you suddenly feeling like miles. your skin felt hot under his gaze, need blooming deep in your chest because it had been at least two weeks since he'd last touched you and as much as you hated it, you craved the feeling of him.

"he's not my date."

"he know that?" you narrowed your eyes at the boy in front of you before lowering your gaze, picking at your nails in a disinterested manner. your heart thudded because he'd stepped a little closer and you could smell the faint scent of his aftershave. it was your favourite, the one he told you once he only wore because he knew you liked it and knowing he'd chosen to wear it tonight made you just a little giddy.

"probably," you shrugged. "who cares, i'll be going home with him whether he's my date or not." you wouldn't be but jude didn't need to know that. you wanted to rile him up enough that he'd break the two week drought you'd been in. you knew it was working when his jaw clenched, nostrils flaring just a little. his brows dug a deeper groove in his forehead and he took another step towards you. his white shirt was open at the top and the tiny slither of skin almost had you drooling.

"oh really?"

"mhm, he promised he'd take care of me." jude's eyes flashed and then suddenly he was directly in front of you, both hands on the counter by your hips to block you in. he'd clocked the underlying meaning to your words and you knew he wasn't happy, the glare on his face making you ache, thighs pressing together in an attempt to dull the feeling. the scent of his aftershave again wrapped around you, made you want to press your face into his neck and breathe him in.

"did he now? what exactly did he promise he'd do, babe?" his head dipped and for the first time in two weeks his lips were on your skin. he brushed them lightly over your jaw, grinned when you shivered against him and your head tipped back just slightly. his touch was too light, his chest too far away. you wanted him against you, wanted to feel the heat of his skin, to feel his fingers grip you so hard there were guaranteed to be bruises left behind. "he promise he'd fuck you?"

"i don't really think it's any of your business." your voice shook just a little because he'd sunk his teeth softly into the sweet spot below your ear, soothed his tongue over the mark only a second later. everything beyond the bathroom door faded away, it was just the two of you, still stuck in this dangerous dance. you needed him to touch you properly, to get it over with because the ache was so intense you almost wanted to cry. hands balled into fists, you refused to touch him first, willed him with your mind to press his hand beneath your skirt.

"is that a no then?" he made a noise of faux sympathy, lifted his head from the crook of your neck and met your gaze again. a hand lifted from the counter and he brushed his knuckles softly over your jaw, the gesture far too adoring for the relationship the two of you had. you tried not to lean into him, swallowed thickly when he thumbed at your bottom lip. "how long's it been?"

"hm?" you couldn't think straight, his hips were flush to yours and you could feel his cock, hard and heavy pressing against you. his fingers danced across your throat, tickled over your collarbone but he kept his eyes fixed on yours, even when they grazed the swell of your boob in the low cut top you'd chosen to wear.

"how long's it been since someone fucked you?" he wasn't asking out of innocent curiosity, what he really wanted to know was if he had been the last person to fuck you. instead of answering you gave him a half shrug. "well you're looking at me like you want me to take you right now so i'm guessing it's been a while." his lips tilted into a smug smirk, his hand finding it's way over your side and down your thigh until he could tug at the hem of your skirt. "tell me you want it."

you stared at him in silence for a few seconds, brows drawn in together, pussy wet and throbbing from how close he was to touching you. his fingers were toying with the lace of your underwear, slipping beneath it to smooth over your skin. he shifted his hips to grind his dick against you and your breath hitched, annoyance and lust tangling together. you were hypersensitive to his touch, to his fingers and the way his lips were hovering over your jaw, his breath washing hot across your skin.

"or do you wanna go home with someone you know can't make you feel as good as i can?" he was so cocky you wanted to punch him but a stronger part of you wanted to kiss him, to shift his hand over just a few inches and let him ruin you. the second part of you won.

"god, you're so fucking full of yourself." your arms were suddenly around his neck, one hand against the back of his head to tug him towards you and the second your lips landed on his it was over. his mouth covered yours in a heated kiss, a sigh of relief catching in your throat. jude pressed a hand against your back, pulled you closer to him as he rocked his hips towards you, his other hand still dangerously close to your pussy.

the kiss turned harsher, the desperate drags of his tongue over yours making it hard to think, even more so when he nipped at your bottom lip. with his foot he knocked your feet a little further apart, pressed you harder into the counter with a low groan. he still wasn't touching you and it was driving you insane, your hips wriggling against him.

"jude."

"tell me what you want."

"you know what i want." his mouth was on your neck, teeth and tongue teasing across your skin until you were whining, all composure out of the window. one of your hands reached for his, fingers wrapping around his wrist to guide him between your legs. he pressed his palm flat over your underwear and let you grind yourself over him.

"tell me or i'll stop."

"why're you being so difficult?"

"if you wanted it that bad you'd just tell me." you rocked into his palm, the constant bump against your clit making your head spin but it still wasn't enough. jude sucked a mark against your jaw. "c'mon, use your words like we talked about." before jude you would never be demanding during sex, would never ask for what you wanted but with him it was different. he wanted you to ask. he wanted you to tell him exactly what you needed from him.

"i want you to make me cum."

"yeah? how?" you pouted despite the fact he wasn't looking at you and pressed a little harder against his palm. your underwear was in the way and the pleasure going to your clit wasn't enough, you needed more of him.

"your fingers. please, jude. want you to finger me." your cheeks burned, half in embarrassment, half in need and jude made a soft sound, kissed his way back to your mouth and offered you a grin.

"what would greg think if he heard you like this?" he slipped his hand into your underwear and the second his middle finger found your clit you went weak against the counter. he circled it slowly.

"his name's george."

"i really don't care." he was kissing you once more, brushing his fingers through your folds before pressing over your clit again. it was humiliating how worked up you already were when he hadn’t really done anything. the slick sounds between your thighs had jude groaning into your mouth. “you’re fucking soaked, babe.”

you thought he was going to draw it out, make you work for it considering how annoyed he’d first seemed but he surprised you when he circled the tip of his finger around your slick hole. he teased it inside, pulled out and went back to your clit, rubbed soft circles over it with the pads of his fingers. your head fell back and his lips were on your throat in an instant, sucking and biting at every bit of skin he could reach, his fingers swiping over you just a little bit faster.

when he finally sunk his fingers into you, your entire body tensed, walls wrapping snug around the two digits and sucking them back in. jude hummed against your skin, let his mouth travel down your chest and across the swell of your boobs. his fingers twisted inside you and he bit down, had you whimpering his name as he marked you with his teeth. his pace started slow and steady, fingers hooking to press against that spongy spot that made your back arch and your legs quiver. your nails dug into the back of his neck and he hissed at the pain.

somewhere in the back of your mind you were aware your friends were all downstairs and had probably realised the two of you had disappeared together. it was no secret to them that the two of you had something going on, they’d caught you on more than a couple of occasions but you’d promised this time was different. you’d sworn there would be no going back to him, george was supposed to be proof of that.

george.

the boy you’d brought along was still downstairs, most definitely wondering where you were and although you should feel bad about that you couldn’t bring yourself to. instead you rocked against jude’s fingers, clenched around them when he scissored them slightly. his thumb was on your clit, pressing over it in messy circles, pushing you further and further towards the edge. you were so wet you could feel it dripping from you, making a mess of your thighs and underwear, stickying jude’s wrist.

“that’s it, fuck, can feel how tight you are, wish i was fucking you with my cock instead .” his mouth found yours again and he kissed you a little harsher than before, slowed the thrusts of his fingers as he switched his angle and pressed them a little deeper. your head felt thick with desperation and you couldn’t bite back the loud moan when the fingers of his other hand curled around your throat. he squeezed the sides lightly, let his mouth hover over yours as he watched your reaction.

“think you can handle another?” for a second you weren’t sure what he was referring to but then he stroked his fingers against your slick walls, smirked and you understand. you were quick to nod, rolling your hips forward again. your tummy burned and your clit throbbed, your orgasm fizzling low inside of you. “good girl.”

his third finger was quick to join the other two, the stretch making you whine and cling to him, pussy clamping down so tight jude gave a low groan of pleasure. his cock was hard in his jeans and he had no issues grinding against you to get some relief. he crooked his fingers and picked up his pace, fucked you so hard tears started to fill your lash line. the sounds were obscene, loud and echoey in the bathroom, your moans and the slick wetness of your cunt fighting for dominance over what could be louder.

jude upped the pressure around your throat, kissed softly at your bottom lip before pressing his forehead to yours. he was so close he was swallowing all the pants and moans you were letting loose, your noises only spurring him on until he was fucking you at such a brutal pace your knees threatened to give out. you clung to his biceps for support, nails digging deep into the muscles they were sure to leave behind marks. the pads of his fingers repeatedly assaulted the most sensitive spot inside of you, each pass against it making you even wetter.

“tell me you missed me, baby.” the term of endearment dripped from his lips in a tone you’d never heard before, soft and adoring, loving like it never had been. it had you whimpering, head shaking as your walls started go spasm around him.

“don’t call me that.” jude blinked and then scoffed, twisted his wrist harshly and bumped your clit. the action was a little mean and you half sobbed in reply, teetering so close to the edge it was almost painful. he squeezed again at your throat, tipped your head back a little and sucked at your jaw again. you knew you were gonna be covered in marks from his hands and his lips but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

“y’don’t want me to call you baby but you wanna fuck yourself on my fingers?” you managed a weak glare in response and shut him up with a scathing kiss. he rocked his fingers faster, stretched you open even further with them as you started to gush around them, your orgasm right in front of you. jude knew it too and he pulled back with a slow grin, released your throat so he could wrap the material of your skirt on his fist and lift it.

he made sure your pussy was on display for him, soaked and puffy, tight hole stretched around his fingers and gripping them so tight. he angled his wrist so each time he fucked into you his palm rubbed over your clit, his actions rough and messy the way he knew you liked. his smirk doubled when your thighs started to shake and your moans got increasingly higher in pitch, walls fluttering around his fingers as you tried to suck him back in.

“there it is, c’mon, pretty girl, give it to me. wanna feel you cum. you’re doing so well, taking it like a champ, babe, gonna fuck you later, yeah? cause you’ve been so good f’me.” jude’s words made you light headed, made you ache with the need for release as he kept up the brutal pace. he fucked your hole as you leaked over your wrist, tears spilling over your cheeks from how good his palm felt over clit.

“jude,”

“shh, s’okay, i’ve got you. let it go. c’mon, soak my fingers, want everyone downstairs to know what i’m doing to you.” he let go of your skirt and slipped his hand around the back of your neck, brought you in for a desperate kiss and the second his lips met yours you were letting go.

you came around his fingers with a muffled cry, your release making a mess of his hand, dripping down your thighs as he fingered you through it. he shifted so he could rub soft circled over your clit to drag out the aftershocks, his fingers buried knuckle deep inside of you. he kept them there, stroked your swollen walls until you were shaking your head and clamping your thighs shut.

you pulled your lips from his, blinked heavily at him as he withdrew his fingers, sticky with your cum and brought them up to your mouth. you wrapped your lips around them obediently, sucked and swirled your tongue until they were clean. jude gave a quiet moan, went in for another kiss as soon as you let the three digits go. it was messy and a little lazy, slow drags of his tongue over yours.

you’re not sure how long you stayed like that, his body pressing yours into the counter, your mouths moving in slow tandem, his hand on your hip brushed soothing circles with his thumb. it was intimate, more intimate than coming on his fingers and you knew something had shifted between you. a sudden knock on the bathroom door broke you apart, had you shoving at jude’s chest and straightening out your clothes.

“if you two are done fucking, george is looking for you.” your best friends voice was laced with amusement, a stark contrast to jude’s expression when you met his gaze. his eyes were dark, brows drawn together, a twisted look on annoyance around his mouth. his voice was rough when he spoke.

“why don’t you go be a good girl and tell george you’re leaving early? i’ll get us an uber.” he didn’t have to ask if you were going home with him, it was a given after what had just happened. and it was sad, really, how quickly you'd ruin something good for the smallest chance jude might finally decide he wants you completely.

#jude bellingham #situationship!jude #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham smut #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham fic #jude bellingham fluff #jude bellingham blurb

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amell333 · 17 days

Text

His own personal desk pet. S.R

HELLO this is my fist ever fic pls Iwould love to hear what you guys think and i hope you will like my first ever fic! enjoy!

!!English is not my first languge!!

summary: Spencer like having you sitting near or on his desk, he like being able to have you close to him so he can hold you, but sometimes forgets you're not the only onse there. but can you blame him he loves having his own personal desk pet. especially one as cute and pretty as you. but just bc you can doesn't mean others can.

pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Content Warnings: none really just dr Reid being cute and needy. And reader being a litte embarrassed. just fluff yk.

Spencer had never really liked the idea of physical contact with another person. He didn’t like handshakes nor sitting too close to people where they were almost touching. Going his way out to mostly avoid having to touch another person. You could say he is a bit of a germophobe if you would.

But that was before you.

Everybody at the BAU knew Doctor Spencer Reid had a massive soft spot for you, ever since you walked in the doors at the FBI, the moment he laid his eyes on you he knew he was hit, Spencer had fallen for a person he didn’t even know the name of at the time, hell even the whole FBI knew how much he liked you, everyone except you. For a member of the BAU you had an extremely impressive knowledge on criminals and murder, but when it came to love you were facing a wall almost stupid on the subject of love.

You were so oblivious that you never noticed how all of his rules was thrown out the window the second you it came to you. You never noticed how his touches would linger on you’re shoulder when explaining something to you or how he would scooch closer to you when you all set at the round table going over a case, or in the jet how the seat next to you was always reserved for him. You never saw how he would stare at you with his adorable big brown puppy dog eyes like if he didn’t, he would be striped of all life.

Being the same age and having common interests made the two of you inseparable from the start, oh and ofc Spencer’s massive crush on you. You two had been best friends for almost 6 years now and in these last 6 years Spencer’s crush had only been grooving bigger and bigger.

“Earth calling Doctor Reid! You there pretty boy? Or are you too busy making lovey eyes to you’re crush over there?” Morgans voice snaped Spencer out of the spell like trance you had put him in.

“What?” not really hearing what he said, Spencer only then looked back at Morgan, locking eyes with him. Spencer’s eyes getting used to looking at something closer again needed some time to adjust. “Sorry? what did you say again? I didn’t quite hear you.”

Snickers could be heard from not only Morgan but also JJ, Emly and Rosi, “Man she got you hooked pretty boy huh? You sure that shot to the leg didn’t effect your braid as well?” spencer still confused didn’t get time to answer before the sound of JJ’s voice broke the laughter.

“Guys Hotch just texted we got a case”

And only a few minutes later there they were sitting around the round table explaining the case. You sitting next to Spencer, like always. No one really had seats around the table that was theirs, but you and Spencer did no one had ever mentioned it or even talked about it, but everyone on the team knew it. it was an unspoken rule. No one sits next to Spencer unless it’s you.

Spencer scooted closer to you while the quick briefing was happening, not really completely listening but enough to drop his point of view on the different point’s of the statements on the murders here and there, before randomly info dumping something only just related to the case at hand, no Spencer was far to busy loving the heat you’re body gave off you’re arm touching his. He loved how warm you were. But once again he was broken from his thought’s by a voice.

“Ok guys wheels up in 20”

Spencer turned his head to you. You’re pretty face already looking at his face. “So see you on the jet. Save me a seat ok” it wasn’t really a question because you know he would he always did.

And like always there you were sitting next to him, you where almost sitting on his lap with how close together you were sitting, but neither of you minded, his hand around you’re waist and chit resting ever so gently on you’re shoulder.

You didn’t fly for long before landing and getting of the jet. The drive to the small town station wasn’t that bad either, it was a small town on a big land a lot of desert with not so much town. When you and the team walked in Spencer’s hand still hadn’t left you’re body it was still ever so gently resting on the small of you’re back.

Having been introduced to the sharif and the people you were going to work with. Next thing was splitting into teams on who were going where and doing what, and with Spencer’s injury it was not hard to see he was going to have to work from the station.

“So who’s staying with Reid at the station?”

Darek was quick to shot a look between you and Spencer before saying. “actually I think Pretty boy is going to be most comfortable staying here with Y/N here more then any of us others” Spencer stopped and looked over at you expectingly.

The other’s looked over to you. You feeling and uncomfortable feeling having all eyes staring at you waiting for an answer Hotch’s voice sounded “Y/N? you’re ok with staying here with Dr Reid?”

“Of curse I’ll stay here with Spence! Can’t have him getting lonely now can we.” You said with an adoring smile on you’re face. “Grate you two stay here and see what you can find on victimology and see what’s may connect the victim in any way’s. sharif could you find a desk for the two of them they can use as work station?”

“Sure yeah of curse, I’ll go find 2 desks for the two of you-“ he was quickly cut off by Spencer. “No one will be fine, we have no problem sharing a desk.” Quick looks was shared between the team. You’re voice rung out. “yeah one is fine I have no problem sharing a desk with Spence.”

“ very well then, I’ll go find and clear a desk you guys can use. In the meantime you can just wait here.” The sharif went off to find a desk you could use. Not even a minute later he came back, and showed you and Spencer to the desk. “well we should get started now huh?” you asked Spenser. He responded with a nod and a dorky smile.

Hours later you were sitting on the desk with you’re legs crossed with a Spencer leaning up against you’re thigh. The news had in someway slipped out to the press and the phones were going off like crazy. “ We know who his next victim is. I’ll go outside and deliver the news to the team.” And with that you hopped off the table and walked out the back door.

and around 5 minutes later a female cop walk up to the desk you only 5 minutes ago were siting on. “So I se you’ve been working hard huh you deserve a teat here I brought you some coffee from the coffee machine.” Handing the Warm cup To Spencer he thanked her knowing damn well he wasn’t even going to thing about drinking it.

Spencer didn’t pay much attention to her or what she was saying to be honest, that was until she leaned half sat herself on the desk not only that but a little too close to him touching his arm. Spencer almost panicked but calmed himself. “please don’t touch me nor sit on my desk I’m a bit of a germophobe.” He said as calmly as he could

“A germo-what? But you let that other girl full on sit on the desk and she was touching you? That doesn’t make any sense buddy.” She said almost offended. “ yeah but she’s different. She’s so much different then you.” With that said she stormed off. And didn’t approach the team again especially not Spencer or you.

But at the end of the day you caught the killer. And was packing up to go back home. You and Spencer was the fist in the jet. “spence?...” Spencer was confused by the tone and turned around. When he did he did see a smile on you’re face like always you’re expression was impossible to read. It scared him. What if he had did something wrong? Had he done something to make you sad or mad? He didn’t know and he couldn’t read you. It scared him.

“spencer am I different to you then others?” the question made him panic. “Wh-what are you talking about of course not-“ he was quickly cut off by you’re voice. “Spence I heard what you said to the female cop.” Silence the only thing there could be heard was the steps you took to take you closer to him.

“ you- you heard that?! I can explain ok! It’s no because you’re different! I mean you are diff-“he was cut off by the soft touch of you’re lips on his. He was surprised but quick to kiss back, scrabbling with his hands to hold the sides of you’re face. “I like you Y/N. I like you a lot, I would even say I love you but I would want to scare you away like that.” “I like you a lot to but..” he was quick to think of the worst. “but?...” “ but I would love you if you took me on a date.” The smile returning to his face. “of course! Of course I will” hugging you with a smile.

The happy little session you had was cut off with a loud “fucking finally!” you and Spencer turned around to see the whole team standing there. You were embarrassed. Realizing they had probably seen it all or at least most of it. “my man! So you finally got the girl” ohh man this was going to be a long flight home for you and Spencer.

AGHHHH MY FIRST FIC!! I really hoped you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. and I wish you beautiful ppl a good morning/afternoon/night:33333

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hopelesslyromanticshark · 3 months

Note

hello love! i have something in mind about older brother percy 👐🏻👐🏻

let's just say poseidon couldn't keep his hands to himself and gives sally a daughter, one year later percy was born and they both arrive at the camp same time (obvi) but they get claimed at different times. like he got claimed during capture the flag but she'll get claimed after she won a surfing competition?? idk that would be interesting to include, other wise is just a headcanon req about older brother percy and a fem reader who is his female version

you could include our fav flame boy if you'd like 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻 (OMG THIS IS LONG SO SORRY)

⋆⭒˚.⋆ platonic! percy jackson x daughter of poseidon! jackson! reader (leo valdez x reader mentioned) hcs

content: platonic! percy jackson x daughter of poseidon! jackson! reader (leo valdez x reader mentioned) hcs warning: probs cursing but i think thats it?? OH WAIT SEXUAL REFFERENCES MY BAD LOL author’s note: idk where to put this on my masterlist bc its very half and half SOMEONE TELL ME WHAT TO DO FRFR

best of friends

that’s your big brother

he’s protective and loves you more than himself

so when he got claimed, he instantly turned to you to make sure you were okay

then he shoved you into the water himself, eyes locked over your head in wait

nothing happened

not even the small scraps on your knees healed

he fought tooth and nail to not leave you alone in the hermes cabin

he tried handcuffing himself to you but luke just undid it with some lockpicks without even breaking a sweat

you had to comfort percy, telling him that it was okay and that you were happy for him and happy to stay in the hermes cabin

he didn't believe you

hell, you didn't believe you

but you both tried to ignore this strange thing

the fact that percy was wanted and claimed and you...weren't

silently, when no one was around, you prayed for another dad, any god, just not poseidon

the shame the flooded you at the thought of your father being too embarrassed to claim you was nothing compared to the sadness of having a different dad than percy

but, percy wasn't thinking like that

he shoved you into every ocean and water related thing he could

swim team? youre on it

water polo? yup, that one too

horse riding lessons? yeah, kiss your thursday evenings goodbye

and, the only one you sort of liked, surfing

you liked that it was just you, the board, and the waves

you took to it like a duck in water, quickly finding a groove and rhythm

you got so good that percy suggested you sign up for a competition

you agreed, simply bc he was so smiley telling you about it

you hadn't thought anything of the competetion, laughing with percy as he showed off his shirt that he had your guys mom make just for the event, your face and some pun plastered across his chest and back

"what's with the other shirts?" you asked, nodding towards the stack he had in his back, causing percy to turn to you with a wide grin

"i invited everyone to come watch you do a stellar job as always-"

"like...every as in...everyone-everyone?? like...leo too?" you muttered, turning away as you pulled your hair back and pretended to fuss over your board to hide your blushing.

percy squinted suspiciously at you, opening his mouth to question before getting cut off as the rest of the seven show up, leo included

you choked on seemingly nothing, scampering away with calls of needing wax or something else

leo watched you go with a wide grin, tugging his shirt on before turning to percy with a wide smirk

"your sister looks great on my chest, huh?"

"YOU'VE LOST YOUR RIGHTS TO THE SHIRT, GIVE IT BACK-"

"OVER MY DEAD AND COLD BODY!! WHAT AM I GONNA JERK OFF TO-"

"OH IM GONNA KILL YOU SO HARD-"

"WH-WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN???"

percy quite literally ripped the shirt off leo, leaving it in shreds in some trash can

leo was pouty the rest of the event, glaring over at percy

annabeth and jason stood between the two to avoid another cat fight

the only thing that made his pout go away was seeing you, clearly in your element

while you were standing with the other competitors, you caught leo's eye and shot him a small wave, leo leaning over the railing to wave back excitedly

this caused him to flip over it, popping back up with sand all up in his curls and a dazed look on his face

you giggled, trying to hide it behind your lips but failing pitifully

leo couldn't help but laugh too, finding your emotions more contagious than any flu he's gotten before.

that was, until security yanked him up and tossed him back over the barrier

then the competition actually started

it was going all dandy until one of the other girls board got caught on some rocks under the water

percy and everyone jumped up, their hero instincts kicking in but before they could even get to the surf, you were already diving into the water

you sort of blacked out to be honest, not really sure how but you managed to tug her free and drag her all the way to the beach

"she's got it all in her lungs," you muttered to yourself, not really sure how you knew she had the saltwater in her lungs

a normal person would have done cpr, but you just set your hands against her chest and allowed instinct to take over

within seconds, she was coughing up the water and shooting up, nearly bonking heads with you

her parents came running, pulling their little girl into their laps and thanking you profusely

you stood up, brushing the sand from your hands and knees as you walked away

"next time you ask me to sign up for something, i'm saying no," you joke as you walk up to percy and his friends, still focused on getting the sand off yourself

"y/n," percy managed to get out, the girl looking up at him with a frown and a tilted head, her eyes darting around to the group, which were all looking at something above her

"...which one?? who is it??" you hissed out, instantly darting your eyes down and refusing to look for yourself.

you thought you saw a flash of sea green but quickly squeezed your eyes shut, refusing to believe anything until one of them told you for sure.

"thank the gods it's not hephaestus," you heard leo mutter and you couldn't help a small twitch of a smile on your lips

"y/n, it's finally the year we get to bunk together," percy replied and you could just hear the grin on his lips

the air squeezed from your lungs, surely from your happiness

percy pulled you into a bone crushing hug, mutters of thanks to his - your - father

you squeezed back, hugging him for the first time as the daughter of the sea god

though, it wasn't even close to the first time you hugged him as his sister

that, you've always been

#postcards from covey ౨ৎ #all my love ౨ৎ #pjo #pjo fandom #heroes of olympus x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #leo valdez x reader

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kardemuum · 1 month

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Roller rink

Reader (fem) finds Eddie very interesting at the roller rink! (slight sexual tension)

The roller rink buzzed with energy, pulsing with the beat of the music and the whizzing of skates. Among the colorful crowd, a girl breezed around the rink with skill and confidence, her eyes darting around, taking in the scene.

In a booth, a group of guys huddled together, chatting and laughing. Her attention zeroed in on one of them – a laid-back guy with a friendly grin and long curly hair.

As she breezed by, she couldn't resist stealing glances at him, her heart quickening with each playful exchange. She grooved to the music, shooting him flirty looks as she passed by with a smooth sway. Her roller skating was so effortless, it seemed like she was floating above the ground.

As he watched her, a shock of surprise flashed across his face. He nudged his friend, his eyes widening in disbelief, silently asking, "Are you seeing this?".

She circled the rink another time, observing his puzzled expression. With a mischievous grin, she locked eyes with him once more. He widened his eyes in disbelief and mouthed, "Me?". Slowing down as she approached the booth where the curly-haired boy sat, she couldn't help but bite her lip, a playful smile dancing on her lips. With a nod, she confirmed his unspoken question, sending a rush of excitement through the curly boy.

As she swayed to the music and glided around the rink, preparing to steal another glance at the boy, she realized he had vanished. Frantically looking around, she spotted him leaning against the rink fence, his presence unmistakable even in the dimly lit surroundings. Now, he was totally focused on her, his eyes glued to her every move. She saw her chance to get closer, away from the crowd of his friends. She skated towards him, sliding her hands next to his on the fence. As they locked eyes, they found themselves face to face, their proximity sparking a rush of excitement between them.

The boy's throat tightened, and he met her gaze. "Hey," he said nervously, "I feel like I've been watched, you know? Sounds weird, right?" He chuckled, a shy grin spreading across his face.

“Oh, really?” She leaned in closer, a smirk playing on her lips as she caught his bashful expression. He couldn't help but find her captivating, from her looks to her scent. Now that he heard her voice, he was completely hooked, wanting more with every passing moment.

“I guess I have a secret admirer huh?” The boy flashes a mischievous grin at her, his eyes sparkling with playful intent.

“I don’t know if I’ve been very secretive,” She gives him a coy smile, her tone laced with teasing. “Should I come over the fence, Romeo?” She challenges, her lips quirking up in amusement. He chuckles, his grin widening into a theatrical smirk. "Well, Juliet, the balcony is all yours. But be warned, it's not as glamorous as it seems from down here." His voice drips with melodramatic flair.

She skates slowly towards the gate of the rink, the boy following eagerly on the other side, anticipation written all over his face. As she reaches the gate, she struggles to take off her roller skates. With a mischievous glint in his eye, the boy bends down and offers his assistance.

“Why aren’t you the gentleman? Thank you, Romeo,” she remarks with a playful wink.

“Name’s Eddie, Sweetheart. Wanna get out of here?” He asked, a mischievous glint in his eye.

You smirked, mirroring his playful energy. "Sure thing, Eddie," you replied, your tone teasing.

With a shared grin, you and Eddie slipped out of the roller rink, ready to continue the fun elsewhere.

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sadesluvr · 1 month

Text

RIVERDANCE

The one where you hook up with Chad at a college party.

(Chad Meeks-Martin x Reader)

A/N: A long awaited Chad fic inspired by a recent album! Songs for ambience: One Dance - Drake, These Walls - Kendrick Lamar + RIVERDANCE - Beyoncé.

Word count: 2K

Tags: SMUT / College! Reader / Alcohol use / Cowgirl (Position) / Moments of fluff / Reader is in control and we love it!

The fading sound of a Drake song signalled yet another three minutes were down, creeping closer to the end of the party. Some were tired, some were horny, and some, especially in your case, were turnt. The turquoise and orange lights of the house party were euphoric; making you feel as if you were in a club, rather than a gritty frat house, and your grip on the signature red paper cups hadn’t wavered.

“Fuck, Y/N you haven’t stopped!” Mindy commented, a smirk on her face as she looked you up and down. Any other day you would’ve taken it as a flirtation but given the fact that she was sitting next to her girlfriend - much more the fact you were dressed like Daisy Duke - seemed unlikely. “Save some for the rest of us!”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes as you began to sway to a distantly familiar song.

“And waste it on two lesbians on a couch? I don’t think so!”

“Touché,” Anika remarked, and your eyes brightened, immediately outstretching your arms towards her.

“Come on, you’ve been sitting all night. Dance with me!” you begged, and she gave a sweet, but strained frown.

“We prefer to be bystanders,” she said, before glancing over at Mindy and lowering her voice. “I said I’d dance with you, but Mindy’s been keeping me hostage!”

“Mindy!”

“What? I’m doing my brother a favour. I don’t want him to get all jealous,” the short haired girl said, shrugging as she sipped her beer.

“Jealous?” you said, feigning ignorance as you got closer.

“Babe, he’s got a massive crush on you,” Anika said exasperatedly. “And don’t act like you don’t know, we saw the two of you earlier…”

Earlier. What had happened earlier? Soft grinding and an exchange of drinks, of course. Chad Meeks-Martin was Mindy’s twin brother, a star athlete and basically one of the hottest guys in Blackmore.

You’d met him at a mixer at the start of the year, but it had been a cat and mouse game ever since that point. It was almost unfathomable how instantly the attraction had occurred - you’d simply locked eyes from across the room, and the rest had been history.

Momentarily, you were transported back to the beginning of the night, how you’d felt the boys dark brown eyes roam up and down your body, transfixed to the way you grooved to the beat. Your back had been tightly pressed against his chiselled torso as you grinned your ass against his pelvis, looking back at him from the corner of your eye. He hadn’t flinched; merely securing his hands on your waist and rolling his hips back, all through a delighted chuckle. He was going to be yours by the end of the night.

“It means nothing until he says something.” you shrugged.

“You know how Chad is, he’s just waiting for the right time…” Anika said, gazing off into the distance and perking up as she spotted a figure coming towards where you were sat. Speaking of —“

It was Chad; all six foot and shirtless of him, dressed in nothing more than a pair of jeans, large belt and a cowboy hat, fitted with a bandana around his neck. He smirked, walking through the room with ease, and placing a hand gently on your shoulder, looking onto the two girls on the couch.

“Excuse me — ‘Nika, Mindy…Mind if I borrow Y/N here?”

“She’s all yours Romeo,” Mindy smirked, dropping her feet from on top of the coffee table. “Behave, and lock the door. We don’t want to have to spend tomorrow explaining the birds and the bees to Ethan…”

The pair of you chuckled before you granted them a small goodbye. Chad pulled you off into a quieter corner of the room, eyes slightly glossy as he stared at you.

“So, uh, how’re you getting home?” he said softly, clearing his throat.

“I live ten minutes away,” You snickered, adjusting your posture so that you crossed your arms in-front of your chest, lending Chad a decent view of your chest. “I’m sure my legs are fine.”

“So you won’t mind if I walk you? I give great piggyback rides, y’know…” he replied, a small smile growing at the ends of his lips.

“ ‘You sure you’re done here?”

“I don’t see anything else I wanna do…”

There was a brief silence.

“Really?” You hummed. “I just figured it was kinda early…”

Chad laughed, and ran his fingers across his chin, biting his lip as he drank you in. He’d been wanting you since the first college mixer, odd considering the fact that he could practically have any girl he wanted. Why had he waited until now to make a move?

Even amidst his alcohol induced haze and excessive head bashing his only conclusion was that he was somewhat of a coward, plagued by the idea that his next relationship could kill him. Whilst Woodsboro was on his mind, he was thankful he’d waited this long. You’d basically dry humped within the first ten minutes of the party.

“So you’re a party girl, huh?”

“Always have been.”

“Why don’t we take this little party of ours upstairs? It’s pretty dry down here anyway.” Chad said with a smirk. You certainly weren’t going to disagree, and so you pushed yourself up off the wall and took the lead up the oh-so infamous stairs. Everybody knew what ‘going upstairs’ meant, and you weren’t oblivious to the way that some girls – and a few guys – gave you the stink eye as you disappeared into the soft light, and away from the hustle of downstairs.

You pushed gently on one of the many doors, opening to an empty bedroom, fitted with red bed sheets and ripped band posters on the wall. It certainly wasn’t much, but you weren’t exactly there for the scenery. Locking the door shut, you glanced at Chad through your lashes before slowly making your way over to the bed where he stood, silent, but telling. The tension was palpable; the rhythmic thuds from the music downstairs seemingly beating in time to your hearts.

Chad began to take off his hat, but you stopped him.

“Nuh-uh, cowboy,” you hummed. “Keep it on...”

It was then that you kissed. Chad’s lips were soft, tasting faintly of cocoa butter as they danced along your own glossy ones; his tongue immediately finding yours as he explored your mouth. Your bottom lip grazed the boy’s scar – something you’d always been aware of, but clueless about – and you shuddered at its rugged edges against your own skin, briefly wondering how the rough texture would feel against the wet lips of your pussy.

Letting out a soft moan, you pushed against his body, sending him toppling backwards onto the bed, with you on top. Chad’s chest was heaving as you pulled away, and his brown eyes were wide and full of lust as he watched you kiss down his stomach, paying close attention to his carved six pack as your nails lightly grazed his skin. You stopped at the silver buckle of his jeans and squeezed his bulge, smirking as you locked eyes with him.

“Your nails look so fucking good on my dick, baby,” he moaned, his voice slightly husky. “Take it out...”

“Now?” you giggled, shaking your head. “We don’t have time for that. I wanna get out of here before the night is done.”

“So what? I’m just a fling to you?” he said amusedly.

“Maybe, maybe not,” you hummed. “Depends on if you can handle me...” Skilfully, you unzipped his jeans and slipped his cock through the buttoned hole of his boxers, exposing his hard cock to the cool air.

Chad’s length was impressive; bordering on six inches with a decent girth, wrapped up with a short, but prominent vein along its side. You tugged at him eagerly, nodding at him before looking at the bedside table and nodding at the drawer.

“Condom.” you said, and he pouted playfully.

“Baby...You know it doesn’t feel the same...” he whined, pushing the drawer open with one hand, keeping his focus entirely on you.

“It also won’t feel the same when I have to move in with you and Ethan so we can raise a kid.”

Chad grumbled and rolled his eyes, more than happy to oblige. He wanted a mini-Chad of his own but didn’t feel like getting a lecture from Mindy on making her an aunt anytime soon. Besides, he was with you – he was more than willing to wait.

Taking the condom off him, you hurriedly rolled it on before sliding your shorts and panties to the side, his thick head slipping into your wet folds with ease. You both let out a moan, and you savoured the moment, letting him stretch you out before you began to roll your hips, stabilising yourself by placing your hand on his chest. His large hands caressed your waist, holding you up as he ran his fingers along your sides, moving up to grope your tits through your cropped shirt, which was becoming dishevelled with every passing moment.

“Fuck, baby,” he groaned, his teeth gnawing into his bottom lip. “You’re so good at this...Shit, you’re just swallowing me up...”

You smirked, shutting his rambles up by pressing a sloppy kiss to his lips before devilishly kissing down his chest and flicking at his nipple with your tongue, making him draw in a sharp breath and thrusting his hips up into you as punishment. The pressure was sensational, but you stood strong, determined to make it a night to remember. You were willing to take his soul, even.

Despite the dull ache of your knees, Chad’s groans were motivation for you to bounce your hips harder, the exposed areas of your skin colliding with his jeans as it produced an ungodly sound.

“That’s it, baby,” he cooed, lips wet and parted. “Bounce on this dick. Fuck, I wanna see that action back there...”

“Then feel it.” you said confidently, taking one of Chad’s hands and sliding it under your jeans, giving him a handful of your ass, which he groped and prodded at, sinking you further onto his cock, your juices beginning to drip down to groomed base and embedding itself in his hairs. The boy was so dumbfounded he barely noticed you sliding his hat off his head, placing it onto your own and throwing your head back in pleasure.

It felt as if the two of you were indulging in a perfect dance; where his thrusts responded to the swaying of your hips, where his hands roamed your body and made you hotter as your own kisses brought him back to reality. Alcohol be damned, the room swayed, and sounds became nothing but intoxicated gurgles, lost in the salvo of your passion.

“God, you’re perfect,” he lamented, his movements becoming more ragged. “My ‘lil cowgirl...”

“I’m all yours baby,” you smirked. “I always have been.”

Chad grinned, flashing his perfect whites before pulling you down on top of him so that your heaving chests were pressed against each other's, allowing you a moment of calm before you came; which, judging by the way you trembled and clenched around him, was imminent.

He came first; unable to hold his tongue as his healthy loads filled the condom whilst still managing to buck up into you, sending you into your own state of euphoria. You creamed around his cock, painting the latex in your clear juices and moulding yourself onto him forever, rendering yourself breathless as you buried your face into the crook on his neck, riding down from your high.

For a moment, time stood still, and it was just you and Chad alone, listening to each other's beating hearts as he held onto you by his arms wrapping around your waist protectively, and tracing small circles onto your back. You’d come back to earth, and you could both hear the dull thumping of music around you...and a knock on the door.

“Shit,” you said frantically, his voice hushed. “Ten bedrooms in this stupid house and they choose this one?”

Chad chuckled.

“I guess people have the same idea as us...” he said, fixing himself. “Let’s do this again, yeah? This time I’ll actually take you out on a date first!”

#florence writes!!#chad meeks martin smut #chad meeks martin imagine #chad meeks martin x reader #scream x reader #scream imagine #scream vi x reader #mason gooding #mason gooding x reader #chad meeks imagine #chad meeks x reader #chad meeks martin #ethan landry #x black reader #x black! reader

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shaisuki · 4 months

Note

hello shai can i please request the bllk boys like bachira or the itoshi brothers with a dancer reader?? (and for the last one, you can pick whoever you want ;>) arigato !

DANCE TO THE GROOVE

ft. bachira meguru, itoshi rin, itoshi sae

ᝰ synopsis .ᐟ just blue lock boys with a dancer s/o

BACHIRA MEGURU

the sweetest and the most supportive boyfriend. ever.

baby loves the way your body moves with the rhythm of the music.

is mesmerized by the sight and loves how focused you are when doing the steps of the choreography you've been practicing.

definitely joins you when you dance. making his own moves and it does pair with your choreography even when it's just him making those own moves of his.

enjoys it every time when you dance in front of him and will playfully spins you around. he's also sings and hums to the beat and lyrics of the music.

overall, bachira is the best boyfriend to have when you're a dancer.

ITOSHI RIN

is enamored with the craft named dancing.

he really isn't much to be interested in your profession/hobby since he's an athlete but is happy when you're enjoying it.

practically researches on the whole stuff about dancing and sometimes relates to him as an athlete.

dancing could be practically rough on you, the same being a athlete so he understands the physical exertions you need to meet up with the demands your body has to take.

rin is just one happy and contented boy to see his dancer s/o enjoying it.

ITOSHI SAE

meh. doesn't know anything about that relates to dancing.

bro still tries and supports you in his own little way.

he's actually good at making constructive criticism where you fell short of your choreography.

reviews and points out and sometimes makes comments to improve your endurance when a difficult choreography makes you go a little winded out.

will stare at you dance and his eyes glued to your body swaying and rolling to the beat of the music. you'll catch him staring but you're fine with it.

he's just a soccer idiot who loves seeing his s/o dance.

#♱ ⋮ shai's works⸝⸝#blue lock x reader #blue lock bachira #itoshi sae x reader #itoshi rin x reader #blue lock scenarios #chubby reader #blue lock #blue

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voyeurmunson · 7 months

Text

Cashmere and Cigarettes (Steddiexreader) Part one:

⚠️Explicit sexual content. Minors DNI⚠️

Summary: Steve Harrington. Your soulmate. The love of your life. You know you were meant to be. But sometimes you wondered if there was something else or someone else on his mind.

You know Steve loves you but you've seen the way he looks at him. Lustful eyes, a bit of confusion on his pretty face, sneaking glances when he thinks no one is looking.

Eyes for the one and only Eddie Munson. Bad boy with a heart of gold. Dark and charming. A bit mysterious. Flirty comments always aimed at you and Steve, causing you both to blush.

It was something you thought about often. The two of them together. All of you together.

Am I crazy? Or would Steve be into it? Just one night. One night of no limits. No boundaries. No secrets.

One night of pure ecstasy for all of you…

********

“You smell so good.” you moan, burying your face in Steve’s neck.

“It’s the cologne you got me for my birthday, you like?”

“Mmm…I love.. can’t you just skip work today?” you mumble into the crook of his neck as his arms wrap around you, holding you close.

“I wish I could, sweetheart.” he sighs, kissing the top of your head.

“Just one day?” you lean back, looking up into his pretty eyes, a pout placed on your lips.

He smiles warmly, before leaning in, bringing his lips to yours. His lips move softly against yours, his kiss tender and strong.

You pull away after a moment, moving to kiss his neck as your fingers run down the soft fabric of his cream colored sweater, stopping once you reach the hem of his jeans.

You run your fingernail along his zipper playfully, listening to the sound of your nail scraping against the metal grooves.

“Oh.” his eyes widen in realization, a big grin spreading across his face.

“I’m sure I can be a little late..” he continues, a soft moan coming from his lips as you grope him through his jeans.

“Yeah, baby?” you purr, dropping to your knees in front of him.

“Oh yeah.” he chuckles lustfully.

“Mmm… you’re so hot.” you praise him, slowly unbuttoning his pants, pulling them down to his ankles. Your knees land on the hard tile as you take him in your hand, slowly stroking him.

“Oh fuck.” Steve breathes as you flick your tongue across his head, tasting his precum before wrapping your lips around his swollen tip. You keep your eyes on him as you suck gently making him whimper.

You take him a little deeper, pulling a desperate moan from him as you suck back to his tip. You hollow your cheeks, bobbing up and down on his hard cock as his hand rests lightly on your head.

“I want you.” he groans suddenly, making you pause.

“Now?” you smirk, trailing your tongue down the side of his length once more.

“Wanna be inside you, baby.” he mumbles, reaching down for you. You stand up wrapping your arms around his neck, kissing him hard on the lips.

You giggle as he scoops you up, carrying you down the hall to your room where he lays you gently on the bed. Clothes fly across the room as you both undress, and then he’s on top of you. The familiar warmth of his body making you feel safe. His lips capture yours in a heated kiss as your legs spread and he settles in between them.

“Fuck me, Steve.” you pant into the kiss just as you feel his thick cock pressed against your entrance. Your mouth drops open with a needy moan as you feel the delicious stretch.

“Steve.. oh my god.” you cry loudly, clinging to his back as he enters you fully.

“I love hearing you moan my name, y/n.” he hums in your ear, his strokes slow and steady, each thrust of his hips allowing him to reach deep inside.

“You’re so big, Steve.” you whimper lightly, hooking your arms under his, your hands pawing at his back.

“I love you.” he breathes as his hand grips your thigh tightly, his fingers digging into your skin as your legs wrap firmly around his waist.

“I love you, baby.” you exhale as he rolls his hips, pumping into you fiercely, his lips lock onto your neck, sucking harshly.

“You feel so good, Steve.” you whisper, your head falling back giving him more access to your neck as he sucks and nips at your soft skin.

“You’re so perfect, angel. So good for me. F-feels so good.” he murmurs into your neck as he drives into you.

“Right there, yes! Right there, baby.” you cry as he switches positions, hitting the perfect spot.

His lips slam into yours, his kiss swallowing every moan as he brings you closer and closer, your hips lifting to meet his every thrust, your bodies grinding together wildly.

“I love you, y/n.” he moans again just as you feel your back begin to arch. “Steve! Don’t stop!” you plead as his thrusts start to get sloppy.

You hold him close with your ankles locked behind his back as you reach down, rubbing your clit.

“I-I’m so close.” you whine, swiping the sensitive bud even faster as he rolls his hips.

“Cum for me, y/n.” he pants against your lips, his hip bones slamming into yours. Your eyes squeeze shut as you let go fully, moaning his name as your muscles clamp down around his cock.

“Mmm… there we go, honey. You look so pretty when you cum. So fucking pretty.” Steve whispers, as your pussy flutters around his member. He keeps his lips attached to yours as he starts rapidly thrusting, his release only moments away.

Your slick coats his cock creating a filthy noise as he glides in and out. He moans into your kiss as his hips jerk and you feel his warm cum fill you. He rocks into you slowly, his lips sucking on yours as he comes down from his high.

“Shit, baby.” Steve mumbles, moving to kiss your neck.

“I love you, Steve.” you pant breathlessly, savoring the feeling of him buried deep.

Sex with Steve was always great. But sometimes it felt like there was something missing. He never left you unsatisfied but it was a pretty routine act on how to get you there.

You knew his positions before he switched you. You knew where his hand would go next, where his lips would land, and it always felt amazing. But a part of you wanted more. You craved something a little different. Something new. And you knew he did too.

Just say it.

“I wanted to ask you something.” you start softly, running your fingers through his soft brown hair as he lays his head on your chest. He hums in response, tilting his head to look up at you.

“Would you ever… do you want.. do you ever think about fucking Eddie?” Shit.

Steve sits up suddenly, his eyes widening, cheeks blushing a bright red, giving you your answer already.

“Munson? What? N-No.. do you?” he blurts out, his eyes searching your face carefully.

“Sometimes I think about all of us… together.” your words come out so soft you’re not sure if he heard you or not. He sits back on the bed, leaning against your wooden bed frame. He’s silent for a while and you begin to get nervous. I fucked up. He’s upset. I never should have said anything.

“Steve, I didn’t mean to-”

“You’re not wrong, baby. I mean… sometimes, sometimes I think about that too. When I look at him sometimes I just get stuck.. like I can’t help but stare, like I want him.. But it’s weird, right? That’s not normal…” he trails off, his eyes shifting away. You move to straddle his lap, cupping his handsome face in your hands.

“He looks at you like that too. I’ve seen it.” You whisper softly and see the corner of his lip curl into a small smile.

“I love you.. you know that right? I love you so much and I don’t need anyone else but..” he pauses, meeting your eyes.

You kiss him, your lips lingering on his for a moment. “But it couldn’t hurt to try something new.” you finish for him and he nods slowly.

“This is crazy.” he laughs, resting his forehead against yours.

“Maybe we need a little crazy.”

******

Two days later:

“What the hell is that?” Steve questions, his eyes narrowing in confusion.

“Just some… supplies.” Eddie shrugs, shuffling through the black duffel bag.

After your conversation, you had both decided to ask Eddie if he’d be interested in some fun. His response was simple, “Took you guys long enough.”

“Supplies for what? Sex? You have a sex supplies bag? Now this, this is crazy.” Steve rambles, his eyes widening.

You giggle as you slip your hand into his, your fingers interlocking. The excitement of the situation making your entire body buzz.

“Do you think he’s gonna kill us?” Steve whispers loudly as Eddie pulls out a bundle of rope making your grip tighten in Steve’s hand.

This is gonna get wild.

“Don’t worry Harrington, I only sacrifice the virgins.” he looks up, giving you both a wink.

“I didn’t know what you guys were into, so I brought a little of everything.” Eddie continues, his voice casual as he sets a pair of handcuffs on the bed.

“Heh.. Eddie, what exactly is that?” Steve says nervously, leaning closer, pointing towards a small black object.

“It’s a butt plug.” Eddie grins, looking up at the two of you again.

“Right.. yeah..” Steve mumbles.

“Too much? This is too much, isn’t it?”

“A little.” “No.” You both answer at the same time. Your response makes Steve look over at you like you’re crazy.

“I just thought we could try some stuff?”

“Yeah stuff.. not that. That’s not going anywhere near my forbidden area.” Steve lowers his voice at the end.

“Doesn’t have to be you..” you trail off, your cheeks reddening.

“Oh.. oh. Yeah.. um, keep that.” Steve says hurriedly, his worried tone switching to excitement.

“Look, let’s start simple, yeah?” Eddie says, shoving his array of toys and accessories to the side. “Both of you, come here.”

You glance up at Steve, watching him nibble nervously on his bottom lip. He keeps his hand in yours as you walk toward the bed. You both sit down, looking up at Eddie as he stands in front of you.

“Hi, sweetheart.” Eddie winks down at you making your stomach flutter.

“Hi.” you whisper, giving him a soft smile. He turns his attention to Steve whose eyes are already on him.

“Is this a new sweater? I like it.” Eddie compliments, his voice is gentle when he speaks to Steve. Steve shakes his head, glancing down at his baby blue sweater.

“Have you ever been with a guy, Steve?” he asks, bringing his fingers to Steve’s chin, forcing him to meet his gaze.

“N-no.” he stammers, pink creeping across his cheeks.

“Ever kissed a guy?” Eddie presses.

Steve shakes his head lightly.

Eddie smiles softly, inching closer to Steve. His ringed hand lands on Steve’s thigh, making him inhale sharply.

“Do you want to?” Eddie whispers, his eyes locked on Steve.

Steve swallows hard before nodding his head ever so slightly. His gaze flicks over to you and you give him a soft smile scooting closer to him on the bed.

You cup his cheek, leaning in and pressing your lips to his, feeling his body relax as he melts into your kiss. You pull away after a moment, turning to face Eddie.

His brown eyes zone in on you, a small smirk on his pretty lips. Eddie leans in, closing the gap, his lips capturing yours in a gentle kiss. His free hand wanders to the back of your neck as his tongue slips into your mouth. You can’t help but moan as you taste cigarettes and weed in his kiss. He sucks your bottom lip as he pulls back, giving you just a tease.

You glance back at Steve and reach out, running your fingers through his fluffy hair, cupping the back of his neck. Your other hand drifts to Eddie’s hair and you lean back just a bit, pressing their faces closer.

You watch Eddie’s lips curl into a little smirk as he gets closer to Steve.

“What if.. what if I don’t like it?” Steve blurts out suddenly, making Eddie’s smile widen.

“Then we stop.” he replies calmly. Steve nods before taking a deep breath.

“Fuck it.” he breathes, closing the gap, slamming his lips to Eddie’s forcefully.

Oh shit.

Part two 🖤

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #steddie x reader #steddie x you #steve harrington smut #Steve Harrington #steddie #stranger things #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #Steve Harrington x fem!reader smut #steve x eddie x reader #eddie munson x y/n #steve harrington x reader #Steddie x reader smut #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson stranger things #steve harrington blurb

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maitanii · 1 year

Text

3:00 AM | RAN HAITANI

CONVERSATIONS IN BED were always like this, quiet and soft, though Rindou still hadn't been back since he'd left for the night and you two had nobody to bother. Habits. Two fingers traced figures and drawings indecipherable for you on your back. The only light that entered the room were the weak rays emitted by the moon. But Ran didn't need light to know where the three moles that decorated your skin and the funny scar that marked your shoulder were located.

“Did you know that years ago I wanted to have blue hair?”

The laugh that your boyfriend released resounded in your hair, where he rested his head and left soft kisses from time to time. As the laughter subsided, his voice echoed through the room.

"Are you kidding me?"

You thought about your teen years. About the fights with your parents because you wanted to make a couple of decisions that you later found out were stupid. About the fall down the stairs when you were wearing those heels that you still hadn't gotten used to wearing. About that boy your friends warned you not to get too close to.

“No.I wanted to have a different image than the one I had back then.”

Leaning up on your elbows, you looked at Ran from your new position. Wisps of hair scattered across the pillow and fell down his tattooed chest like a waterfall. Aphrodite had favorites.

The boy closed his eyes and began to caress your arm. He thought of his adolescence. About Tenjiku. About Rindou crying the first time he saw him almost bald in juvie. About his mother kicking him out of the house with tears running down her pale cheeks. Ran unconsciously pouted when he was about to say something important. You squeezed his cheeks between your fingers.

“What is my dear Rapunzel thinking?”

“My hair”

At his words, you caressed a lock of hair that ran through the groove of the tattoo that decorated his skin.

“I think you would be gorgeous with short hair”

Sometimes Ran felt like he was like Samson. Perhaps if his hair was cut again it would lose its strength. It was the characteristic that made him stand out, his strong point. He had vague memories of sitting on his mother's lap for her to comb his hair, which was beginning to grow longer. His father wasn't too excited to have a son with such long hair, but his mother always told him when they were alone to take care of his hair.

Ran raised the corners of his lips as he watched your disheveled hair fall over your forehead. Bringing a hand to your cheek, he began to pick up strands and tuck them behind your ear.

"Do you really think short hair would look good on me?

Complimenting Ran was a double-edged knife, because he would always repeat your words half an hour later. But there was something in his eyes that told you he needed to hear something like this coming from you.

"Oh Ran" Sitting on the bed, you pointed at him with your hands. "You could be bald, you could have a thousand gray hairs, you could have a thousand split ends, and still you would be the most beautiful person in the world.

A laugh escaped his throat again making his Adam's apple disappear every time he made a sound. You smiled.

"Then it’s worthless to talk about this anymore" Rising up to stand beside you, he stroked the knuckles of your hand one by one "I’m going to get my phone really quick, I want to do something"

3 WEEKS LATER, and just one day after his 25th birthday, Ran Haitani walked out of the hair salon holding a plastic bag, feeling a cold breeze on his neck and having a new haircut. He had to send Rindou a photo, but that could wait.

When he closed the car door after getting in, he put the bag on the passenger seat and began to dial your number on his phone.

He couldn't wait to see which surprise you'd like best; his new haircut, or the blue dye he had bought at the salon.

#ran haitani #ran x reader #ran haitani x reader #haitanis #ran #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader

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jennay · 8 months

Text

Mine

Request: So I have an idea for a fluffy fic? Where reader and Noah are best friends and reader flies out and surprises Noah on tour at a show. He sees the reader standing in the side wings of the stage while performing and he gets so happy! After the show maybe they confess feelings? Or whatever you think!! Love your writing 💕 💕

An: I nearly died from fluff. Thank you for the request💜

Noah stuuuuffff

Words: 3k I think

Now warnings just a lot of feelings.

“How did you-“ Bryan looks at you with pure confusion, his eyes wide and mouth open. He quickly recovers and smiles, “Our security needs upgrading.” He laughs knowingly and clicks the camera in front of your face. “Memories!” He says in a mock-serious tone as if he is documenting a historic moment.

You laugh as you pretend to swat the camera from your face.

“Hey, don’t give him any reason to look over here.” You whisper to Bryan, pointing at Noah, who is on the stage, talking to the crowd. “He doesn’t know I came.” You say with a sneaky smile.

Bryan nods as he heads back to the stage, “You got it!” He says, giving you a wink. He hurries away from you, and you watch as he follows Noah around while he talks to the crowd.

Noah’s voice fills the air, confident and charismatic, as he riles the crowd with his witty banter and infectious energy.

You stand in awe, listening to the music and singing along to his songs.

Jolly is entertaining to watch while he bounces around and plays his guitar. Nicholas is calm and relaxed, staying in his spot and grooving with his bass. Folio is a beast on the drums, pounding away with so much energy that you wonder how he does it.

You feel pride and admiration for them, especially for Noah, your best friend. You know how hard he’s worked to get here.

You also know how hard it has been for him to be away from home, touring the world and living his dream.

He confided in you last week when you talked on the phone that he was feeling anxious and homesick. He said he missed you and that it was weird to be separated from you for so long. You felt the same way. You two have been inseparable since you were kids, growing up together and sharing everything. You have always supported and cheered him on, even when others doubted him or tried to bring him down.

You’ve seen him grow from a shy boy with a big dream to a superstar with a loyal fanbase. And yet, he has never changed who he is.

He is still the same Noah you know and love, the one who makes you laugh, who listens to you, who cares about you, who is going to be surprised whenever he decides to notice you standing off to the side of the stage.

You lock eyes with Nicholas as he turns around during the song, and you wave at him with a smile.

He looks happy to see you, and he quickly makes his way to Noah, who is still singing his heart out. He lightly bumps Noah on the shoulder and gestures towards you, hoping to surprise him.

Noah’s brown eyes sparkled like polished gems as he caught sight of you. His smile is radiant, spreading across his face like a sunbeam. He looks overjoyed, as if he had just found the most precious treasure in the world. He couldn’t take his eyes off you, and an intense glow filled your heart, warming your entire body.

The song ends, and he waves you over, asking you to stand with him. “Stop hiding!” He says over the mic. “C’mon, I want to introduce you to the family!” He says, showcasing the crowd.

You shake your head and mouth the word no. You’re so incredibly proud of him and happy he wants everyone to know who you are, but you prefer to stay in the shadows where you could watch him shine.

“Awe,” He coos over the mic. “You’re adorable when you're shy!” He smiles goofily and turns back to the crowd, “That’s (y/n)!” He pauses, pacing the stage. “She’s one of the reasons I made it this far..” He returns the mic to his side, smiling like a child as the crowd cheers at his words. “She was there when we were just kids, pushing me towards my dreams and not letting me give up.” He turns back towards you, “Kicking me in the ass when I wasn’t motivated.” He beams, love, filling his brown iris as he thinks of your encouragement. “Reminding me that if I was going to be a high school dropout, this was my only other choice.”

You cover your eyes with your hand, lightly giggling, thankful he’s giving you credit but also dying from the attention. “It's all you!” You say to him even though he can’t hear you.

“If you’d come here, I could probably hear what you said.” He challenges you, and with great hesitation, you finally give in to him.

You make your way to the center of the stage, feeling Jolly’s playful laughter as he sees you taking deep breaths and fidgeting with your hands.

“There she is,” Noah says, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and drawing you near despite his damp skin. “Now, what did you say?” He asks, putting the microphone to your lips. “I said it’s all you. I had nothing to do with it.” You glance at Bryan, who is snapping more photos of this moment.

You’re unaware of it, but Bryan has snapped a photo of the exact moment when you and Noah realize that there is more than friendship between you.

He gazes down at you while you look up at him with wonder. A blush spreads, and you want to escape from the stage. Your heart beats faster, and your stomach feels queasy.

You slowly break free from his hug, smiling as you wave to the crowd and walk away. You feel awkward, but you know it would only get worse if you stayed in front of all those eyes.

Nicholas gives you a knowing smile as if he can read your mind.

You shake off the feelings and head to the back of the stage. You hear Noah talking about the last song they’re going to play. You walk down the side stage, heading to the stairs.

Your heart is still pounding in your chest. What is this feeling? “Not Noah,” You whisper, trying to push the thoughts out of your head. You walk toward the tour bus, trying to catch your breath. “Come on!” You exclaim, looking up at the sky. “Why now? We had over ten years to do this. What the fuck!”

You sit outside the bus on a bench, knowing the bus is locked. You pull out your phone and call your friend Isabelle.

“Hey!” She answers, “How was your flight?”

Sighing, you lean back, “I’m in love with Noah.” You blurt out.

You hear her soft laughter on the other as she asks, “What!?”

“Yeah, uh. Fuck.” You quietly say.

“You’ve literally been fightening me for the last two years about this, and now that I’m convinced there’s nothing, there’s something!?” She laughs again, “Well, spill it. What’re you going to do? Gonna romance him or just be weird and avoid him?”

You stand up and walk around the grassy area, trying to gather your thoughts. “Just go back to the hotel and avoid him at all costs.” You roll your eyes at your idea. “I’m walking back to the car right now. I think I can just sneak away before they get here.”

When you reach your car, you unlock the door and pop into the driver's seat. You set your phone down and allow it to connect to the Bluetooth.

“Well, I think that’s a shit idea, but you do whatever.” She laughs, “Avoiding Noah like he’s a plague will make it worse for you. I’ve seen you’re separation anxiety.” She teases, “Just talk to him. It’s not like he’s this big, scary guy. You constantly make fun of him for being so soft, and now you’re acting like he’s so hard to talk to.”

You hesitate, torn between going to the hotel and facing Noah, but you’re afraid of what he might say or do if he finds out how you feel.

“Are you driving, seriously? You’re leaving.” She squeals with annoyance. “Oh my god. I should’ve come. I knew it.”

“Look, I just, I need a minute to collect my fucking thoughts. This came as kind of a shock to me.” You drive as fast as possible to get to the hotel, and your stomach threatens to release any content.

“I don’t know how this came as a surprise.” Isabelle’s voice is full of disbelief, “There’s a reason this shit happens in the movies. I’m sorry if I’m making it worse, but your turning into a walking cliche.”

Frustrated, you groan at the idea of your life situation being as dramatic as the movies. “I gotta go. I just got to the hotel.”

You click the end button without giving her a chance to respond. Isabelle was right, though. Noah wasn’t difficult to talk to. You were making this a bigger deal than necessary, but it didn’t stop you from feeling nervous.

Annoyance bubbles up inside you when you hear your text tone go off. Was she really texting you already!?

Hey, sorry if I was too much. I don’t know if I pissed you off, um. I was hoping we’d have some time to hang out.

You stare down at your phone, debating if you should call or text. You can’t call Noah. He’ll know some things up.

Sorry! All is good; I just felt a little gross and went back to the hotel. You nervously bite your lip and send another text. Wanna come over, or can I meet you somewhere? I’m not really in the mood to hang out with everyone.

You wait for a response, a million things racing through your mind as you wonder what you would say to him. I think we need to talk…

Send me the address. I’ll be there shortly.

You hear a knock on the hotel door, and your heart skips. He’s here already. You wish you had more time to prepare yourself for this moment. You get up from the chair and walk towards the door, feeling nervous and excited. You unlock it and open it slightly, meeting Noah’s bright smile and sparkling eyes. You open the door wider and invite him in, trying to act casual. You can feel your heart pounding in your chest.

“Hey.” He says, “Everything ok?” He walks around the small room and sits on the edge of the bed. He looks at you with concern as you stand by the door, frozen and unable to move.

“What’s going on with you?” He asks, his voice gentle and curious.

“I’m scared.” You say, walking over to him slowly.

His brown eyes are full of warmth and worry, his lips slightly parted, and his hair tousled from pushing it out of his face so many times. You’re afraid of what he might say, what he might do, what he might think of you.

“Wanna elaborate?” He says, his tone changing to protective. His eyebrows furrow, and his jaw clenches. “Did something happen? Do I need to kick someone’s ass?” He asks, ready to defend you from any harm.

You shake your head and plop beside him, trying to act calm. But inside, you feel like you’re about to faint.

You know he can sense something is wrong, something is different. He’s seen you through your ups and downs, highs and lows. He’s been your best friend for years, your confidant, your partner in crime.

He knows you better than anyone else. And that’s why this is so hard. His eyes watch you, scanning for any clues to the situation. He grows more worried and concerned.

The last time he saw you acting like this, it had something to do with your ex-boyfriend, who cheated on you and broke your heart. And if it had anything to do with him again, Noah would make sure he paid for it.

He hated seeing you hurt; he hated seeing you cry. He wanted to make you happy, and he wanted to make you smile.

You bite your lip, thinking of something to say to him. You know what you want to say, but getting yourself to do it is nearly impossible. But you can’t keep this inside anymore. You need to tell him the truth, and you need to take a risk.

You take a deep breath, building courage and preparing for rejection. “I need to tell you something,” You say softly, looking into his eyes. “And I need to know that no matter what I say, we’re gonna be ok.”

He nods his head, “We’re gonna fine.” His arm wraps around your shoulder, pulling you to his chest, resting his chin on your head, and running his hand up and down your arm, “You can’t get rid of me.” He reminds you.

You nuzzle your face closer to his chest and mumble a few inaudible words against his body.

You feel his chest move as he chuckles and gently pulls away from you, looking down at you, tilting your chin to look at him. “You did that on purpose.”

“But technically, I said what I needed to.” You say, flashing a smile.

“It doesn’t count if I can’t hear it.” He gives you a second to sit up and regain your composure. “C’mon, it’s me. Just say what you need to say.”

“Ok, fine!” You stand up, towering over him. You put your hands on his shoulders and look directly at him. “I said I have feelings for you, and it’s ruining my life!” You fling your hands up in the air and put a considerable distance in front of the two of you. You’re eyes wander around the room, trying to avoid looking at him. “And I know you don’t feel that way, and that’s fine, but I needed to say it and get it out there. Like, I get if you don’t want to talk anymore, I’m not anything special, and you could have whatever you want and-“

He stands up quickly and grabs your hands, stopping your rambling. A smile plastered on lips as he brought his hands to your face. “Dude,” He lightly laughs, “You’re wrong.”

You exhale deeply, still stuck in his gaze, “What?” You ask.

He wraps you in a tight embrace, and you hardly register what’s going on. Slowly, your hands come up to his waist and wrap around him, feeling relief that he didn’t walk out the door.

“You’re wrong.“ He steps back, his hands resting on your shoulders. “I’ve had a thing for you since middle school. I just thought you deserved better than me. There was no way you could fall for me. I’ve seen the guys you date.”

You stare at him in disbelief, your mouth hanging open. “You’re kidding, right?” You say, incredulous. “You’ve had a thing for me since middle school? How did I not know that? How did you not tell me that?” You feel a scale of emotions, from shock to confusion to happiness.

You can’t believe what you’re hearing. He’s been in love with you for years, and you’ve been oblivious to it.

You’ve wasted so much time dating jerks who didn’t appreciate you when the one who did was right in front of you all along.

He smiles sheepishly, his eyes crinkling. “I guess I was too scared to ruin our friendship. You’re my best friend, you know that. I didn’t want to lose you over some stupid crush. But I guess it’s more than that. It’s always been more than that.” He says, his voice is sincere and sweet.

He cups your face in his hands and looks into your eyes, making your heart flutter. He strokes your cheek with his thumb and says, “But how could I not fall for you? You’re smart, you’re funny, you’re kind, you’re beautiful. You’re everything I ever wanted.” He smiles and leans in, closing the gap between you. His lips touch yours softly, gently, sweetly. You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him back, feeling his arms around your waist and his hair between your fingers. You feel his warmth and his breath dancing across your skin. He deepens the kiss, making your heart race, and before it goes any further, he pulls away slightly and whispers in your ear, “No more secrets?”

You nod, “No more secrets.”

He kisses your forehead and hugs you tight, making you feel safe and loved.

He nuzzles into your neck, “You’re mine.”

You nod, unable to contain your giggle, “And you’re mine.”

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