#color me lovestruck | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dancingbirdie · 4 months

Note

For your smut ideas- astarion leaving bite marks on your thighs👀 pretty vampy elf being all possessive👀

Hi, anon! I loved this request, but I have to warn you: I took it to a bit of a darker place than I usually go. Pay attention to the tags, y'all. I hope you enjoy!

Like my smut writing? Find more here.

Your Feral Love

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Pairing: Astarion x fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.1K

Warnings/Tags: Biting, descriptions of blood, possessive/obsessive Astarion, marking/claiming behavior, oral sex (fem!Reader receiving)

Summary: Astarion has an intense desire to claim you. This time, it's in places the others won't be able to see.

*****

“Maybe we need to take things slower,” you murmured in Astarion’s ear. You swallowed thickly as he dragged his fangs across the sensitive skin of your neck.

“Whyever would we do that?” he whispered huskily, undeterred from continuing his sensual assault. You shivered as you felt his tongue slide up the column of your throat, unable to stop the little moan that escaped your lips.

“Some in our party are worried… about all the bite marks…” you managed to explain, despite the tantalizing option to just lose yourself in Astarion’s embrace. His cool touch was a balm to the inferno he was stoking within you. The creator of your lust; the only cure for it.

But his lips withdrew from your neck at your response. Pulling back, he met your gaze with furrowed brows and a glare that could make even Lae’zel balk.

“Who.” he demanded, his voice strained with barely-repressed anger. “Who had the audacity to murmur about us?”

His fingers spasmed where they clutched your waist. As if he were bracing for the moment when someone would come and yank you away from him.

He was possessive, your lover. Astarion hadn’t had anything to call his own for over two centuries. Not a thing. Not a soul. Now, after having lowered his guards and allowed you in, his possessive streak was as long and wide as the River Chianthar. He was never far from your side, even in battle. And on the rare occasions he was separated from you, you could feel the heat of his gaze tracking your every movement. Watching you. Making sure his one claim in this world was safe. Accounted for.

The bite marks were a consequence of having not only a possessive lover but a vampiric one as well. You didn’t mind, of course. He always asked for your consent.

Can I bite you here?

Your blood is singing to me, darling. Can I taste you here?

What about here? Would you let me sate myself here?

You flourished under the intensity of his love for you. The bite marks were a reminder of that, and so you cherished each one. Each was a memory of the way Astarion had taken, given and enjoyed you. Heat would sometimes color your cheeks and neck later on, when you caught sight of a pair of healing puncture marks, recalling just how they had come to be there, on that particular part of your body.

But others in your party didn’t share your view of these markings. They, namely Wyll and Gale, were worried Astarion had started taking too much of your lifeblood too quickly. You could understand their concern, to some extent. They didn’t know, didn’t have reason to know, how little of your blood he actually took each night. Most times he would drink barely a mouthful before stopping. The urge to claim you in other ways would overtake his bloodlust, and you would climax again and again as he fucked you into oblivion. He kept his fangs punctured in your skin during times like these, claiming that your blood felt sweeter against them as you found your own release. Only when he had spilled himself in you would he remove them, and by then you were too lovestruck to care how long the markings would remain.

“Tell me, darling.”

Astarion’s voice brought you back to the present moment. You shook your head to dispel the thoughts distracting you.

“...Mostly, Wyll. And Gale, to a lesser extent. I don’t know for certain about the others, although I certainly don’t think anyone comes to our defense…” you trailed off, swallowing thickly.

You caught how Astarion clenched his jaw at your words. He was livid, that much was obvious. You also surmised his anxiety was likely surging within him, the paranoia suggesting that someone or something would cause you to be taken from him. Again, his fingers spasmed against your waist.

“...So maybe we should… I don’t know, keep a lower profile about all this? If they say something to you directly, I know I’ll not be able to stop myself from fighting with them,” you explained, clutching his cheek desperately.

“Tsk. Of course the ones who would have a problem with us would be the only other two who’ve been sniffing after you,” Astarion scoffed.

“What the hells are you talking about?” you asked, clearly confused.

“Oh, darling. Surely you’ve seen the way they look at you? How they talk to you? I certainly have,” he huffed.

“I wouldn’t know. I don’t pay them attention, Astarion,” you reassured him, nuzzling your nose against the curve of his jaw. “I only have eyes for you.”

“And I, you,” he murmured, pressing his lips lovingly against your forehead.

You hummed in delight at his affirmation. While you might not show it through bite marks like him, your possessiveness of Astarion was a fearsome thing, too. The emotion sometimes staggered you, even in the most mundane of moments, like when he donned his armor for the day, or when he cleaned his daggers in the firelight. He was yours. You were his. Anyone else was tertiary.

The two of you remained in comfortable silence for some time, limbs intertwined as you lay halfway on top of him, your head resting against his chest. There was no beating heart within to listen to, but it hardly mattered. You knew that what was there, beating or not, belonged to you and only you. Astarion had said as much, amid previous bouts of lovemaking you had shared in this tent.

Your musings broke at the feeling and sound of his throaty chuckle beneath you. You lifted your head to meet his gaze, surprised.

“What is it?” you pressed.

“I have an idea,” he smirked.

“I usually like your ideas,” you quipped, heat flaring in your lower abdomen at the suggestive look in his eyes.

“Then you’ll surely enjoy this,” he crooned, before flipping you both over all at once so that you were flat on your back, breathless beneath him. He fit perfectly between the cradle of your thighs, your legs parting almost instinctively to accommodate his presence. With one arm, he propped himself up above you, while his other hand clutched your leg to bare you open wider. The position alone had you growing wetter by the second, anticipation for what was to come driving your thoughts wild.

“Much as I detest pandering to their concerns, I think we both know I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from fighting with them either, were they to say something directly to us,” Astarion admitted.

“But,” he continued as his nose skimmed the length of your abdomen, heading further and further south. “I also can’t deny how much pleasure it gives me to mark you as I do… to see the evidence of where my fangs have punctured your lovely skin. Mine. No one else’s.”

You bit your lip in a futile effort to stifle your moan as he began brushing the lightest of kisses against your inner thighs. He slid down lower, his face mere inches from your naked form. This close, you were certain he could smell your arousal. And no doubt find evidence of it as well.

“So what is your idea?” you managed in a breathy whisper as your hips canted toward him, seemingly of their own volition.

“How about I mark you here,” he cooed, his fangs sliding along a particularly visible vein that spanned the length of your leg, beginning at your groin. “Where only I can see. A place they can only dream of. A place only I have been.”

You groaned, skin tingling, nearly electric, in every place his mouth touched. You reached down to card a hand through his carelessly flawless locks, tugging ever so gently on the curls. Astarion growled in response, sending a surge of heat through your lower abdomen.

You were teasing a livewire at the moment, and you knew it. Just a little push, and you would ignite something truly mind blowing. You chose your next words carefully, readying yourself for the delicious consequences that would no doubt ensue.

“I’m yours, Astarion,” you whispered, spreading your legs even further for him and clutching his face desperately. “You can lay claim to me however you wish.”

Another growl ripped from his throat at your words and, in a blink, your lower body was pinned to the ground. His arms banded under and around your thighs to hold you in place, not that you had any desire to move. You whimpered as Astarion nipped and sucked his way across the expanse of skin, his nose grazing your soaked cunt from time to time, causing you to jerk with want.

“Please,” you begged, desperate to have his mouth on your swollen, throbbing clit. He was so close to where you wanted – no, needed – him to be and yet still so far.

“Oh no, not yet, darling,” he purred against the plush skin of your thigh. “I’m going to mark you until I’m satisfied first. Then I’ll give you what you crave, I promise.”

You whined, a pathetic little sound, but nodded your assent anyway. Any touch from him was better than nothing, even if it did cause your cunt to ache with a nearly unbearable need.

Then a sudden spike of iciness on your inner thigh had you gasping in surprise, morphing into a long, low moan as you realized Astarion had actually bitten you there. You could feel him sucking your lifeblood into his mouth, your sense of touch being so heightened in your aroused state.

You lifted your head to watch him move from one place to another as he marked and sated himself. You cradled the side of his head lovingly as he fed from you, swiping your thumb rhythmically across his temple. You were utterly entranced, lost in the delicious feeling of him claiming you, as well as the way he beheld you as he sunk his fangs in again and again across your skin.

He looked at you with the fervor of a madman. He clutched at your legs like some covetous creature. Drunk on the need to possess, to claim, to mark. It was dark, powerful, and heady. And you absolutely reveled in it, ravenous with want as you witnessed how his love for you manifested in such an incendiary way.

With a moan of his own, he finally broke from his feasting. Lifting his head to meet your gaze, your cunt clenched at his expression, at his his bloody mouth, grinning widely with purely male satisfaction.

“It should be a crime, you know,” he rasped, his chest heaving with uneven breaths. “How delicious you taste.”

You whined at his words, desperate to have him taste you in another way.

“Shh, shh. I know, I know,” he crooned, squeezing your legs reassuringly. “I know how you want to be tasted now, darling. Don’t fret.”

Your back arched off the ground as, without another word, Astarion dipped his head to plunge his tongue inside your dripping core. Your mind short circuited as you felt his nose press against your clit with intent as his tongue continued to spear into you. It was almost too much to bear; your nerves already were nearly raw with desire.

You couldn’t help the wail that burst from your lips as you felt his tongue lick up, up, up, until he was circling your clit with long, languid strokes. You fisted a blanket and bit down on the fabric, the last shred of your self-awareness working like mad to muffle your sounds.

You knew Astarion was too far gone to care if anyone heard you both, as evidenced by the obscene slurping and smacking sounds that emanated from his lips. That alone had you ratcheting up faster toward climax, relishing the way it felt and sounded to have Astarion feasting on you with such utter abandon.

A few more moments of floating in that delicious limbo and then you were crashing back down from the height of your orgasm. It felt like an almost spiritual experience, though no cleric could ever convince you that a god’s love would feel as good as this, as good as Astarion’s love for you.

Panting and shivering in the aftershock of your release, you clutched at him desperately, eager to embrace him with as much strength your jellied limbs could muster. He crawled up to lay haphazardly on top of you, head resting in the space between your breasts. You combed your fingers through his hair lovingly, content to remain in companionable silence.

“I’m realizing now that I may have in fact gotten a little out of hand…” he murmured against your sternum after a while.

“Perhaps,” you chuckled. “But I’ll take your feral love over anything else, my star.”

#dancingbirdiewrites #astarion #astarion x reader #bg3 astarion #bg3 astarion fic #astarion ancunin #astarion smut #astarion bg3 #astarion x tav #astarion x mc #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x f!reader #bg3 smut

2K notes · View notes

pricelessemotion · 6 months

Text

poltergeists for sidekicks | E.M.

summary: [2.3k] the kids drag eddie to the halloween store where you happen to work.

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

warnings: fluff, pining, eddie being a lovestruck idiot, r wears big prescription glasses and is described as having messy hair

a/n: happy halloween! here’s something i’ve been working on for ages just in time for the end of spooky szn! xoxo

masterlist

Eddie doesn’t hate Halloween.

He used to love Halloween. He likes autumn. He likes watching the leaves change colors. He can appreciate the novelty of a hot apple cider and a hay ride. Hell, ever since he was old enough to go trick or treating, he reveled in it. Free candy and all he had to do was put on a costume and say three magic words? Sign him up.

As he got older, he started to like Halloween for a slightly different reason. Don’t get him wrong, he still liked the free candy, but he liked the excuse to be someone else for a night. He liked how he could throw on a Michael Meyers mask and go door-to-door and be greeted with glee and sweets.

It does a funny thing to a kid’s self-esteem, being treated better when he’s wearing the face of a fictional serial killer.

Now, though, Eddie Munson is decidedly too old for trick or treating. He’s resigned himself to spending the holiday like it was any other day by spending the night in his room, playing guitar, and coming up with new campaign ideas.

Which is exactly what he was doing when three freshmen started pounding down the door of the trailer demanding entry. Within moments, they are practically on their hands and knees asking, nay begging, for the older boy to take them to get last-minute Halloween costumes.

“Aren’t you guys too old to go trick or treating?”

“This is why we need to go to the store! If we wear masks, no one will be able to tell how old we are, hence extending our years of candy collecting.” Dustin explains, matter of factly.

Eddie sighs, leaning back into the sofa, steepling his fingers together. “What’s in it for me?”

The three boys huddle together, conspiring in a manner that is not dissimilar to the way they plan their counterstrikes during Hellfire. They nod in sync, turning around so that Lucas is standing front and center, flanked by the two other boys.

“That one girl you like is working there.”

Eddie remains stone-faced, quipping sarcastically, “That’s very specific.”

Mike lets out an exasperated groan, threading his fingers through his hair before yanking at the ends in frustration. “Y’know, the weird one. Coke bottle glasses, messy hair, always holding a book?”

Lucas’ eyes widen. Dustin smacks Mike on the chest and the hollow sound rings out through the empty trailer. They all start talking over each other, with two of them berating the third for A. being insensitive and B. expecting a good outcome from said insensitivity.

Eddie wants to make a comment that your hair is not messy, it’s actually more voluminous. Besides, his hair is messy and he likes to think it makes him look badass. The glasses comment was a little unfair. Sure, the frames are a similar shade to the iconic green of the bottles of Coca-Cola. But the magnification was endearing, leaning more towards doe-eyed than bug. Unfortunately, Eddie did not consider that while he was observing you, someone might’ve been observing him.

The assurance of your presence is how Eddie ends up here, parked outside of a hardware store turned seasonal shop. He’s helping his friends. He’s supporting a local business and therefore contributing to the local economy! You being here is just a bonus.

A bell rings above them as he swings open the door, the motion setting off a scratchy pre-recorded cackle. He’s gotta hand it to whoever is running the store. They’ve gone out of their way to transform the dingy overhead fluorescents and worn-out linoleum into something that actually resembles an eerie boutique.

“Welcome in! I’ll be right witch you!” Your voice lilts out from the depths.

You appear out of the darkness, expertly weaving under fake cobwebs and pushing aside fanciful drapes that have no doubt been strung up precariously around the store to add to the ambiance. You’ve got a witch’s hat on, tall and black and pointy, which further explains the pun you greeted them with.

“How can I help you?” You smile brightly, adjusting your glasses.

The younger boys barely spare you a glance, just a chorus of we’re good! before running off to the other side of the store, where all of the costumes are located.

You barely blink at their rudeness. Whether that’s indicative of your experience in customer service or due to your generally sunny disposition, Eddie isn’t sure. You turn your smile and magnified gaze at him, “What about you?”

Eddie startles only slightly. He begins to peek over his shoulder as if there’s somebody else in the mostly deserted store that you could be talking to. What about him?

“Oh, I don’t need anything. I just came here with–” He gestures vaguely in the direction that the boys wandered off to. “The little shits that left me in the dust.”

You bark out a laugh, a small smile settling on your lips. “It’s sweet of you to help them out.”

Eddie only blushes in response, murmuring a quiet it’s nothing, scratching the back of his neck like he might find a switch that’ll make him remember how to talk like a normal human being.

“Well, if you change your mind, let me know.”

You pick up a clipboard and a pen and start leisurely strolling down the decor aisle, making inconsequential markings on the paper. Whenever you come across gaps in the shelves you reach back into them, pulling the products to the front edge with a concentration that is quite adorable.

He’s definitely staring by now. Feigning interest in a skull-shaped candy bowl, Eddie scrambles for something, anything to keep the conversation going. “I’m surprised you’re not busier.”

“You just missed the afternoon rush.” You say, straightening a pair of plastic tarantulas that have gone askew. “Not too many people came today, though. I guess they realized that it’s so close to the holiday that the shelves would be picked over.”

“Really?”

You shrug, “I think by October 30th, most people figure if they’re gonna dress up, they’d rather just pull together something from their closets than spend money. We’re actually busier the day after Halloween because everything gets marked down and people want cheap candy.”

“Makes sense.” He nods. “So, I take it you’re a big fan of Halloween?”

Your smile is apprehensive as if you’re not sure if he’s making fun of you. Your fingers brush the brim of the witch’s hat. “What gave me away?”

He falls into step beside you, clasping his hands behind his back and puffing out his chest. “I just had a feeling.” Then, feeling much braver than usual, he adds, “I like your outfit.”

You look at him again, clutching the clipboard to your chest. For once, your eyes are leaning more towards bug-eyed. The black velvet dress has draped sleeves and a skirt that swishes with every step. Orange and black striped tights protect your legs from the inevitable chill that comes with October in Indiana. “You do?”

“I do.” He insists, “It totally adds to the magical vibe. If you told me that you were an actual witch and this was just something you do to pass the time I’d one hundred percent believe you.”

All apprehension has slipped off your face, replaced by a genuine smile that cracks open his chest. “Thanks…” You trail off.

“Eddie.” He supplies.

“Well thank you, Eddie. I’d tell you my name but I’m guessing I don’t have to.” You say, rubbing the plastic name plate on your chest.

Eddie does know your name, but it isn’t because of your name tag. He was far too proud to ask around for your name, and far too afraid of rejection to ask you himself. He’d been lucky enough to get a library book right after you. He’d pulled the weathered paper from the slip, seen your name at the bottom of the checkout card, traced the loopy letters with the pad of his fingers. It had definitely been more than a little pathetic.

Eddie coughs, clearing his throat, trying to maintain any semblance of nonchalance. “Do you have any plans for Halloween?”

Your face slowly lifts from the clipboard, twirling your pen between swift fingers polished in a deep burgundy. Directing your gaze at him, you peer through dark lashes and Eddie’s never been more thankful for the inventor of coke bottle glasses. The magnification allows him to see the spark of intrigue dancing across your pupils.

“I was just gonna stay home. Maybe help my mom pass out candy.” The implication of the last sentence seems to hit you. You look down again, scrunching up your nose. Eddie finds it endearing how your first instinct is honesty rather than anything else.

“Cool. That’s cool,” Eddie says in a manner that is decidedly uncool. He fiddles with his rings before shoving his hands into his pockets. “Actually, I was wondering if—”

Suddenly, Eddie feels stupid for getting lost in your eyes and not paying attention to his surroundings. Maybe then he would’ve noticed how the linoleum got ever so slightly softer under the soles of worn-out boots. He would’ve seen the cloaked figure looming in the alcove, waiting for some unwitting soul to step on the pressure plate.

Unfortunately, Eddie did not see any of those things. The poltergeist, or ghost, or whatever the fuck it is swings out. He stumbles backward, releasing a shriek that is so high-pitched, that he wonders if he should start tapping into his upper range. Maybe it would add more texture to Corroded Coffin’s Tuesday night sets.

Instinctively, his arms fly backward, as if to protect you. He stumbles right into you, and he’s sure that if you didn’t grab his waist from behind, you would’ve fallen right over. Unfortunately, the movement has both of you careening back into a shelf, sending bags of overpriced candy and shitty Halloween decorations tumbling to the ground in a cascade of all things creepy and corny. He quickly spins around.

“Shit, are you–”

“I’m so sorry!”

“I should’ve warned you–”

At that moment, chests heaving and hearts racing, you both seem to realize that your hands are still grazing Eddie’s waist. You spring apart, scrambling to clean up the display, haphazardly grabbing the fallen items and placing them back in their rightful places on the shelves. Among them is your hat, another casualty of the calamity.

“I should’ve warned you,” You say again, slightly out of breath. “That thing nearly scares me to death every other day.”

“It’s fine. I should’ve paid attention to where I was walking. It just added to the whole spooktacular experience.” He picks up the hat from the floor, dusting it off. “I think this belongs to you.”

You give a bashful smile, but instead of putting the accessory in your outstretched hand, he gingerly places it on top of your head. Your glasses have slid down your nose from bending over to clean up his mess, and his thumbs gently push the joints of the frames until they’re sitting in their rightful place.

“There,” He punctuates his statement with a resolute tug on your hat, making sure it’s securely on your head. “Perfect.”

You preen at him, eyes sparkling, before you cast them down at the floor. Dustin comes running around the corner, closely followed by Mike and Lucas. All of them are carrying armfuls of miscellaneous Halloween supplies, obviously alarmed at the clamor, but not alarmed enough that they didn’t take their sweet time coming from the opposite end of the store. Eddie takes advantage of your bashfulness and distinctly shoots them a look that says get the hell out of here. Dustin’s eyes dart between the two of you before they widen and his mouth forms a small oh. He sends Eddie an exaggerated wink, walking backward in order to not interrupt the private moment, dragging his two friends along with him.

“Thanks,” You smile at him. “For protecting me. I know who to bring with me if I ever want to walk through a haunted house.”

He gives a lopsided grin, “My pleasure.”

“Ahem.” You clear your throat, “Anyways, what are your plans for Halloween?”

This is it. This is the moment that Eddie has been waiting for since he put down his guitar and his notebook and opened the trailer door.

“That depends.” He clasps his hands behind his back, jutting his chin up in the air. “Are you working tomorrow?”

“I get off at four.”

“The Hawk is doing this continuous horror movie marathon. Maybe you would want to go?” Eddie’s fingers are practically vibrating with excitement. He nearly forgets the most important part. “With me? I mean— Only if you like horror movies, I just figured because I’ve seen you walking around with that Stephen King novel. NOT that I’ve been watching you or anything!”

You let out a small giggle. The fact that you’re laughing and smiling is a good sign, even if it is slightly at his expense. He decides to lean into self-deprecation, hoping it’ll seem more charming than desperate.

“I’d say I don’t scare easily, but I think we’d both know that’s a lie by now.”

You scribble something near the bottom of the paper on the clipboard, delicately folding it and ripping it off before placing it in Eddie’s palm.

“Well, I’ve heard horror movies are less scary if you have someone to hold your hand.”

It doesn’t even matter that a ghost animatronic essentially acted as his wingman. The note with your number on it sits heavily in his pocket, thumb tracing over looped ink. Even though it’s cold as shit, he embarrassed himself, and signs of the spooky season decorate every corner, Eddie has a smile that rivals even the best of jack-o-lanterns.

As Eddie turns off towards the dirt path that leads to Forrest Hills Trailer Park, the smile still hasn’t faded.

For once, the streets of Hawkins seem a little less haunted.

likes are appreciated, comments and reblogs are cherished ♥️

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #mimi wrote ✍️#poltergeists for sidekicks

1K notes · View notes

armxnh · 5 months

Text

if that ain't love then i don't know what love is

synopsis: he says i love you for the first time.

characters: shuji hanma, keisuke baji, manjiro 'mikey' sano

genre: fluff

warnings: none (i think...?)

masterlist.

shuji hanma

shuji hanma loved everything about you.

the way you looked, the color of your eyes, your hair- how you do your hair, the little dance you made before eating your favourite food, the smile you had when he bought you flowers just because he felt like it, your kindness- he just loved all of you.

but one thing he loved more than anything about you... was the way you looked when you were mad at him.

there was just something about the way your pretty face would turn into a scowled, your brows frowning and lets not forget the intimidating look you were sending him.

you looked like an angry kitten.

"you can't just climb up my window every time you get in trouble hanma-"

"shuji" he corrected you with a smile on his face as he ate the snack you gave him a couple of minutes earlier.

"-shuji! my experience in treating injuries has its limits" you were walking around your room rambling about how careless he was being, completely unaware of the fact that he was enjoying this, "you can't show up every night- what if my neighbours saw you- worse what if my parents saw you!"

"they won't see me-"

"maybe i should start locking my windows-"

"don't lie to yourself, princess... you won't lock me out-"

"you're right-! god you are so frustrating!" you groaned rubbing your temples, "but i am serious about walking in my room half dead- never do that again. i may want to lock you out but it doesn't mean that i want you dead- you're a person of nice company and i don't want you to die-"

shuji stayed quiet as you kept lecturing him on how careless he was... he let his eyes drifted from your face to your body... and most specifically what you were wearing.

you wore one of his shirt with your christmas pyjama pants- even if there was 7 months left before christmas- but the last time he questioned your choice in clothes he received the flowers he had bought you on the head so he kept his opinion to himself.

out of sudden, hanma stood up from your desk chair, walking up to you with a cocky smile on his face. "shuji? what are you-"

he grabbed the back of your neck, smashing his lips into yours. you stumbled back but quickly melted into the kiss, your lips moving in sync like they had done many times before, with his 'sin' hand secured behind your head while his 'punishment' hand was on your hip.

"god- i love you so much." he muttered when he pulled away before moving your face towards his again so he could press his lips into yours in a chaste kiss.

your face was warm and your lips swollen when you finally looked in the lovestruck eyes of your boyfriend.

i love you so much

"i love y-"

"i didn't say it because i wanted you to say it back, princes..." shuji placed his hands on your cheeks pressing one last kiss on your forehead, "i just needed you to know that i love you."

you looked up to your boyfriend with heart in your eyes, completely forgetting why you were arguing about. you softly smile at him before tilting your head up to press a kiss on his jaw.

"i love you too, idiot"

keisuke baji

keisuke never felt more stressed out in his life.

he just couldn't mess this up.

he had run every possible scenarios in his head- he was ready-

"hey, kei'! i was looking everywhere for you-"

never mind- aboard mission aboard mission!

"h-hey, (y/n)!" his voice cracked, "y-you were?"

you smiled wrapping your arms around his arm, pressing a kiss on his red cheek, "yeah, i thought we could eat lunch together, is that alright?"

as you walked down the empty hall, you realized that your boyfriend was being fidgety, looking round, not really paying attention to what you were saying, "is everything alright, keisuke?"

your question made the delinquent stop walking, he was clutching a bag with his right hand, hesitating to look at you in the eyes, "(y/n)... i-.."

"are you breaking up with me?"

his eyes snapped to meet yours, his free hand immediately grabbing your hand, "no! never! i swear- it's just that... i have- i need.."

"i'm playing with you... don't worry" you laughed at his expression, "how about you tell me what's going on in that pretty head of yours?"

pretty... she thinks i'm pretty...

keisuke hurriedly grabbed what was in the bag, pulling out a heart shape box of chocolate with a hand made card. he gave both of the gifts to you, immediately looking away once you realized what he had given you.

"is it our anniversary?!" you panicked, "i'm such a bad girlfriend- i forgot our own anniversary- oh god!"

"what no!" baji explained, "i just thought that you might like it so... just read the letter already."

you opened the letter your boyfriend freezing when you realized what he had gifted you, "y-you wrote me a love letter?"

keisuke rubbed the back of his neck, clearing his throat, "yeah... chifuyu helped me with the words and stuff so sorry if there's some mistakes or- why are you crying?!"

you threw yourself in his arms, "i have the best boyfriend in the world- thank you so much, keisuke!"

the said man automatically wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him, inhaling your scent, "i- i love you a lot, (y/n)"

"i love you too, kei'"

manjiro 'mikey' sano

it was one of those rare days where manjiro woke up of a nap before you. he tilted his head to the side trying to ignore the warm light streaming through the window in your room.

he blinked his eyes a couple of times, adjusting to the light, slowly registering that something was wrong.

that's when he realized that your back was facing him. he wasn't cuddled in your arms like how he remembered you two falling asleep.

he frowned, his eyes glaring daggers in the back of your sleeping self. he had never glared at you before- he never needed to. you were his light in the dark world he lived in.

but how could you do this to him? mikey tried to remember what he did wrong... did he kicked you in his sleep? did he accidentally bit you like he did that one time? (the time where he dreamt he was in a pool full of dorayaki).

a good 30 minutes later, you started to drift back to life, not yet aware of the state your boyfriend was in. you turned around, expecting to see a peacefully sleeping mikey, only to find him narrowing his eyes at you.

you were now fully awake, a smile spreading on your face at your boyfriend's morning self... even if he tried to look serious while looking at you, his morning hair betrayed him, "good morning-"

"are you mad at me?" what a good way to start the day...

you frowned at his words, "no, why? did you do something you shouldn't have?" then you remembered a nightmare he talked to you about not long ago, "did you have that dream where i ate all of your snacks? because i didn't-"

"what no-!" manjiro frowned with a pained expression on his face, "don't you like me anymore? is that why you turned your back on me?"

you suppress a chuckle that threatened to come out, "aw i'm sorry, 'jiro... i must've turned in my sleep... i won't do it again, i promise!"

he suddenly put both of. his hands on either side of your face, bringing you closer to him, "i love you a lot, alright? i need your face to be the first thing i see when i wake up- so don't turn away from me again- ever."

i love you a lot

those words kept repeating themselves in your head like a mantra.

"(y/n)? are you still with me?" manjiro asked you, bringing his face even closer to yours so that your nose were touching.

"you love me?" your face slowly growing hotter and hotter after every passing seconds.

"um? of course i do- didn't i made it clear when i shared food with you last week?"

you tilted your head to the side pressing your lips against his, making him hummed in content. "i love you, manjiro..." you mumbled when you pulled away for air.

"of course you do!"

#tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers #manjiro sano #manjiro x reader #shuji hanma #shuji x reader #keisuke baji #kesuke x reader

1K notes · View notes

comfortless · 2 months

Note

Everything you write leaves me breathless <333

Sorry in advance for my English

I was thinking about König, (maybe in an ancient rome/Greek settling) being so alone and desperate for connection that he turns to religion: one day he's walking in the woods, deep in thought, when he finds an abandoned temple. The inside is small but lavish, with a life sized statue of what must be its goddess. He sees this lovely sculpture, abandoned and alone and sees himself in her. He becomes a dedicated, fanatic and soso lovestruck worshipper. Unknownly to him his goddess, woken by his prayers, has been watching him and listening to him. One day while he's praying in front of her her statue moves and talks and now his deity is in front of him. Looks like he has an opportunity to worship her like she deserves ;)

granting you ten million kissies for this prompt and your sweet words! your English is perfect, little wisp! <3 also… giving me an excuse to write more loner/loner and mutual worship?! you have spoken to my heart…

content/warnings: 18+. minors do not interact. historical/myth au; vague time period, brief mentions of violence, fluff, pining, not very explicit smut, mutual worship.

The spirit of the temple feels disorienting, though the architecture is a still, white marble, the floor riddled with leaves and dirt, creeping up the sides of the building as if river water had washed the entire thing ashore… Something feels very alive here, feathered out on the air, a pulse of thunder, the breeze beneath dove’s wings, enthused and yawning. Hungry.

It only becomes more apparent the closer he steps to the statue.

She is unlike any he has ever seen before, carved with the same skill, but so much smaller than the other statues in their temples, so much more lifelike that he almost thinks to greet her. She’s been painted unlike most, a perfect vision bathed in color where she stands out amidst the sea of white and green surrounding her. The temple has not been stained with blood, no offering strewn before her bare feet, left for the rot or dragged away by the dainty hands of this very goddess. No maidens sit in prayer, no men lower there swords to her…

There’s nothing to tell him just who she is, either.

Despite his better judgment, his hand does find her side, a swift draw up from the vision of her thigh peeking from her robe upward to curl over her hip. Her beauty is unmatched, impossible to describe and the call seems almost tangible, shrieking at him in whispers to bend a knee and let her in. So, he does. He prays to her in the silence, alternating between whispers and his own thoughts.

He tells her of his struggles: a soldier brought in from a small tribe up north, robbed from his parents as a boy, how all he knew now were the Roman ways yet could rarely comprehend their customs and deities. Maybe she could offer him some counsel or solace…? Make the weight of his blade feel less heavy as he struck down men that could very well be his own brothers? Give him something to return to when old wounds reopened and he bled, hurt with no one but himself to tend to his heart or his injuries.

The goddess only blesses him with silence: the wind does not pick up outside, there is no disembodied laughter, no sudden thought of an offering or new words to speak to her. She is void of an answer just as the very temple she waits inside is empty of all else.

This does not dissuade him from returning.

Returning to the city after another battle some months later, his first thought is to return to her, to leave the things he’s taken from dead men at her feet, to paint the temple with the blood lingering on his weapon. There is honey, wine, meat and jewelry made of stones from the sea. There is brittle, dried flakes of blood polished from his blade and left to settle onto the floor like the leaves of late autumn. He presents these things to her with a grin, thinking that assuredly this goddess would call back to him then, grant him with a love so consuming that all of the evasion and emptiness cursed upon him would be untwined.

He kneels before her statue, presses his cheek to her thigh, sighs content at the feel of cold marble against the ever-burning of his flesh, gazes up at her like an adoring dog.

Assuredly, if this temple were built for a being that did exist at all she would know just how she was all that this lonesome soldier had, would know the way that he loved her and waited with bated breath and heartstrings pulled taut for her to love him in turn. A greedy, begging muzzle that utters his prayers, words he’s never spoken to anyone whether deity or mortal, only to her in the quiet of the forest.

It’s not madness that provokes him, but the gentleness of her face and the tender look in her eyes, an expression that no other had ever offered to him, no one but this little forgotten goddess. Whether pitying or loving, he did not know. It was only enough to keep him returning: for many days, his path from the city led straight to her feet, even some nights were spent lying upon her floor, finding peace finally being able to sleep next to something apart from lonely walls.

The sun rises and sets each day where he sits and speaks to her as though she were a living, breathing woman. Occasionally he reads aloud to her in the stillness, cheekily tells her when another goddess’ name is brought up within the lines of poetry that they could never hope to compare.

It’s ridiculous when he does not even know what purpose she serves, but this silent figure is his only companion, the only thing that sets his heart ablaze and mind focused in battle because above all else, he has to return to her. Though she can not share his words, he knows somehow that she shares in his loneliness.

Finally, he thinks to ask her the question that has been burning at the tip of his tongue for weeks and months. One, that he has tried to hold back, display a patience that he lacks. It’s after a night of sleeping on cold marble, an ache in his neck from its hardness and his own refraining from bringing a cushion from his own home in his desperation to return to her.

“Why won’t you speak?,” he asks, somber as he makes his way to leave the temple, only halting in place to cast her a fragile look from over his shoulder. He has read the epics, heard the stories and seen the blessings of other deities… Yet no matter what he does or how often he tethers himself to her leg and dotes upon her, she still meets his devotion with nothing but her silence in return.

König is left with the thought that his gifts are not enough, that he, himself, is not enough, even as her sole devotee. To keep his mind preoccupied, he keeps to the city for a time. The bed is cold, the people still see him as a barbaric outsider, and the horrible coil wound around his heart only seems to tighten its grip further. He feels as though he has left a part of himself out there in the forest within the four chalked walls of her temple.

This loneliness does not feel like one he is forced to swallow down, it feels like a vicious sort of ache, the twisting of a dagger beneath ribs to sink in and steal away what little of a life he does have.

He returns to her the following night, with a furrowed brow and a grave look upon his face. There’s an intent to demand she free him of her, that this longing finally pass, but as his sandals reach the entrance to the temple, those thoughts fall away from his mind like droplets of rain, a cool drizzle that begins to fall outside the very moment he is sheltered.

The statue— the goddess moves.

She tilts her head and inspects him fondly, the perfect mouth he has envisioned speaking to him so many times prior tilts upward in the gentlest smile as her bare feet move to carry her body forward.

“A test,” she explains as though answering his question from only the past day, almost saddened by her own words as her gaze lowers to the space between them.

König’s heart does not roar then, it only melts with the knowledge that someone like her has been left alone for so, so very long that she felt the need to prove to herself that he would return to her side. He would. Time and time again he would. When she raises her head to look him in the eye, her own clouded and misty, he only silently prays that she could see such a vow upon his face.

“I am worthy then?,” he questions, forcing himself to remain rigidly in place despite the call- the urge, to circle her, just once, drop at her feet to then feel her pulse beneath his fingertips. Anything. Even an assurance would be reward enough, but there is always a greed in the hearts of men, one he feels burning a hole through his very being even now.

Her lips press to a line and her gaze seems faraway, lost in her own thoughts that must be as mighty as Olympus itself. After a time, she only answers in a soft whisper, “It is I who am unworthy of you.”

All discordance in his chest pulls to a halt at this, all apprehension and sadness are whisked away when she instead comes to kneel before him. She curls her arms around his leg, presses her cheek to his thigh as he had done so many times before. The goddess gazes up at him with not just affection… but reverence, as though he were the strongest warrior of myth, deserving of even the love of something only as ethereal and sweet as she could provide.

His breath catches for a mere moment before he lowers himself at her side. The stares exchanged from both are full of an unspoken wonderment, all of the things that words alone would fail to speak in truth.

He waits out the rain there, sat beside her with the air surrounding them charged with such a great and unspoken affection that even Venus would taste a bitter envy on her tongue should she pass by to see.

She tells him she can not recall what she was the goddess of… or if she was ever truly any goddess at all. The marble surrounding her was put up for a purpose, but she’s never seen the Elysian Fields or climbed Olympus on her own. Her memories are scattered blurs, and she confesses that she feels tired when she tries to parse things together in a way that he will understand.

He listens while he tends to her by offering the honey and dried meat left in offering for her here, then fetches fresh water from the stream that brooks several yards away and returns to her side with a face both damp and flushed.

König tells her of his life too, how during every battle since stumbling upon this sacred place he has kept her in mind; he has no wife to return to, no other women to bed, that since their meeting his life has become hers. He confesses he had the intention of returning only to force a curse upon this madness that had enveloped him, but… he could never have brought himself to do so, even if she had not appeared to him warm and breathing.

Her laugh then could have prompted waves of flowers to bloom and birds to sing in tune, whimsical and so precious he only begins to feel himself fall, truly. Not out of sheer desperation, but with genuine affection.

When her exhaustion does take her, she does not mind the way his arm curls around her middle to tuck her body closer to his own. The goddess has no fury within her, only mirrors his own feelings with a fluttering of lashes and a soft sigh.

So she sleeps, pulled close to him like a lover rather than a stranger. When dawn breaks, when König knows he’s to be called back to train and fight with the other soldiers, have dull talks about what land to cross and take for their own next, she tells him she will wait there for his return.

He can not concentrate as well on his training this day. The plans for future wars and battles do not send flurries, hot excitement through him. The world is an endless gray, reflected above with darkened clouds threatening further rain. There is only one place he wishes to be, one that yearns for him more than his own home or the women waiting on the street for coins the other men readily supply. When one, a native Roman, does ask him why he does not just venture to the brothel to put himself in better spirits, König only grits his teeth to still his hand from quieting him eternally. These men knew nothing of the love he feels, and certainly they didn’t deserve to.

The temple is no different from how he found it the night prior. The goddess sits with her hands curled in her lap, smiling just as fondly at him as she had before. His heart shatters at the thought that she had sat there waiting for him in such a way all day. He swears to her that he will have a proper bed made for her, bring her the softest of furs and cushions stuffed with downy feathers to lie upon. For now his offering is only fruit and wine, things that she shares with him while she shushes his concerns with quiet words and gratitude that he had returned.

She lowers herself again before him after pulling her robe free and lying it upon the floor. It is no proper bedding at all, but she swears that it is enough, that his own warmth is just enough for her to be sated and comfortable. His head swims when she kisses his thigh, drags her lips up from his knee to rest there with that reverent look in her eye. Mortals coupling with deities was not unheard of, but to think it could happen to him…

She is a goddess. How is he supposed to… How could he ever dirty her with himself? He thinks to refuse her before she tugs away the barrier of fabric between them and takes him into her mouth. Stunned, he only watches her, feels her in a way he has never felt a woman before until he finds his voice again.

“Lie down,” he breathes, shaky and tentative as he rests his hand upon her cheek. She complies, giddy and content when she’s splayed out on the white robe beneath her, legs parting immediately and her arms reaching upward to invite him into her hold.

There’s no tact when he lies atop her, feels the warmth of her thighs around him and her arms curled over his neck. His forehead is pressed to her own when togetherness is found, and when she sighs so soft as she envelops him in full, his mouth descends upon her own.

She doesn’t praise him, doesn’t need to in words, because the muffled sounds and cries that leave her lips are more than enough to spear him onward. König, however… he babbles ceaselessly, overwhelmed and overcome by such a profound joy, he can not keep himself from reciting every word that comes to mind, whether vile or pure.

“My goddess,” he whispers into her hair, eyes half-lidded and dazed with each shallow thrust. “We could have had this for a season… you have made me wait so long, hm?”

The way she feels is unmatched, he thinks, when her breathing shudders and she only seems to constrict him further. To think he could bring a goddess to ruin… the grin that crosses his face when he pushes his head against her neck is bordering on both ecstatic and cruel.

“I will give you a demigod,” he hisses against her throat, not at all subtle about just how far he was willing to go to keep her here. With him. More than Olympus, she belonged beneath him, and the tremor that wracks her form then is all of the confirmation he would need.

She sobs his name when the tension becomes too much to bear, fingernails graze the flesh of his shoulders as she shudders, falls into such bliss that her words of praise come incoherent and weak. He follows her to a saccharine abyss with a guttural groan.

The aftermath is softer than any other moment he has shared with her. There are an abundance of kisses pressed between them, littered across her flesh and his own with whispers that leave his mind cloudy. Her worship is subtle by comparison to his own, coming in honeyed stares and such words he would never dare to repeat, no lowly poet deserved to ever hear them, their voices could never compare to her own.

The goddess holds him close, bumps his nose with her own and makes a promise; she tells him for as long as he shall live that this temple was as much his home as it were his own. That even when this body of his does die, she will seek him out in the Elysian Fields, lie at his feet as he had done her own; that no matter what may come, they will never be apart.

#könig x reader #konig x reader #storing your other request for now angel! <3 #someone kick me and make me write! so sorry to anyone who has sent something in that i have not gotten around to just yet #i see them and i promise i am working through them! my heart soars any time i am entrusted with a König prompt!

424 notes · View notes

fireflysymphony · 3 months

Note

Aventurine w a fem! bodyguard reader smut... 👀

Aventurine x fem! bodyguard reader

MDNI 18+ content ahead

A/N: thank you for the request! I really like the concept. I wrote it as a mix of headcanons and a quick drabble at the end. I hope you enjoy it <3

Word count: 2.7k

Content warning: Fem! Reader, slight exhibitionism, pet names, fingering, teasing, praise, needy lovestruck Aventurine, slight degradation, slight begging (on his end), pretty soft sex, Aventurine’s daddy kink strikes again, I have a lack of gun knowledge but just roll with it, not proofread

Headcanons

Let me make this really clear: HE’S not the one who needs protection right now; it’s YOU.

The second he met you he was sizing you up with that cute little smirk of his, making it pretty obvious that all professionalism was lost the very moment he saw such a pretty number was working for him.

You should have run then.

What was the IPC thinking when they hired you for this? Is this some type of wrath from the Aeons? What did you do to deserve this punishment?

From the very beginning, he’s a pain to deal with, but you don’t have the authority to talk back, only giving him tight smiles and apologetic words. He knows this and takes full advantage of the situation.

“Y’know, princess, if you’re going to be with me all the time, shouldn’t I have a prettier view? I don’t like having to leave everything up to the imagination. Do you think red or blue is more your color? Ah~ I’ll buy both.” And you’re sitting there seething as he taps away on his phone, seemingly oblivious to your displeasure. Was he just joking? What was he doing?

The VERY next day you see Aventurine holding up not one but two skin tight dresses with fabric only hiding your more intimate areas. It was more like lingerie than a dress like something you’d see on a stripper.

He evidently wasn’t just teasing you.

As politely as you could, you told him it would hinder your fighting ability if anyone were to attack, so you absolutely couldn’t wear it. He made some futile comment about how he’d love to see you try so he could get a peek up your skirt to, you know, “negate the traumatizing experience of him being attacked.”

In the end, you won the argument, and Aventurine threw a tantrum, muttering something about giving them to a woman who’d actually appreciate a gift like that. You told him straight to his face that he should just give it to the many women he brought to bed each night then.

The surprised and hurt look on his face will forever be carved into your memory.

After that, he actively stopped calling you by his nicknames which, deep inside, you missed, or it might just be the guilt of seeing his usually inalterable flirtatious self turn into a sad kicked puppy of a man. You held onto your pride though and forced yourself to bite back any apology or reconsiderations of his request you may have had. The man should have known your job was on the line, and his insensitive acts of fickle flirtation could not sway you.

The very next day he was up to his usual antics, and you got the impression that he only seemed upset to try to guilt you. Asshole. It only made you more upset with him. Did he like playing with your emotions?

Did I mention he loves it when you say his name? Sometimes he’ll ignore your presence just to hear you say “Mr. Aventurine? Boss?! Sir, I’m talking to you.” In your signature annoyed tone. It makes his heart melt. The only thing he can think of is imagining how your little pants and sighs of his name sound while he’s on top of you. How would you sound if you weren’t constantly annoyed at him? If he brought you pleasure?

Honestly, he was whipped for you from day one, and his actions might sound annoying and overly flirtatious, but that’s just how he shows love.

I could tell you so many things that this man has done for your attention, but that’d probably be the length of the Holy Bible. There are so many places this could go, but I think this instance of his sticks out the most amongst many akin to it.

—

You were used to casinos at this point. The loud blaring sounds of people playing the slot machines and thick, suffocating smell of alcohol were background sensations at this point. You couldn’t even bother to give them a second thought, not when a gun was pointed at the man you were supposed to be protecting. Safe to say the poker game was ruined. Champagne soiled the cards, shards of glass from the glasses littered the floor and table, and Aventurine, stupid Aventurine, had his hands raised in the air, his signature smirk pointed at the assailant like his own brand of deadly weapon.

“Hey, hey, now. This isn’t the place to have one of those, is it? Look, you ruined the cards!” Adventurine laughed, making a circling motion with his hand as if trying to gesture to the table of cards which were now soaked a yellowish brown color. Your hand rested on your gun, ready to fire at any sign of him about to pull the trigger. “Can’t we talk this out? I’m sure with a little persuasion you be happy to hand over-“

Your pistol fired later than his. Shit.

All that registered in your mind was the crying of two men, and Aventurine hunched over with a pained expression as he gripped his stomach. You were trained for this, but in your state of panic, you ran to him instead of making sure the attacker was dead. You scooped him up, struggling to carry him with your gun pointed at the now surrounded shooter while retreating from the casino. You wished you could make sure he was dead, but attending to Aventurine’s injuries were your first priority.

“You idiot. I told you to stop provoking people and look where we are!” You scolded him, Aventurine now quiet and clinging to your shoulders. You were too panicked to question his unusual behavior after just being shot in the stomach. “..If you’re worried, you won’t die. I got you.”

“I think that’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me, Princess.” He laughed, setting his chin on your shoulder. Sensing something was off, you turned down an alleyway and skidded to a stop. He wasn’t screaming in pain nor were his cheeks stained with tears, even the adrenaline wouldn’t keep him from crying out, right? “I’m surprised it took you this long to catch on. No, I’m not-“

Before he could finish his sentence, you dropped him to the ground before crouching down and lifting his shirt up. No wounds in sight.

“Getting rather intimate, aren’t we? You should give me the chance to do this to you.”

“Shut up! What did you do, Aventurine?!” You demanded, yanking his shirt back down before leaning back on your haunches. He looked satisfied with himself as he shuffled to lean against the alley wall. His hat and glasses were gone, probably from the scuffle. He’d have her go get them later.

“Uh-uh, remember who you’re talking to, beautiful.” He smiled, running his hand through his hair and covering his right eye, the other one illuminating his face well enough to be able to see his features in the darkness. “But since you haven’t figured it out, I simply hired someone to shoot me with a blank which, by the way, hurt like a bitch still. I might still need you to kiss my booboo.”

He saw you were about to open your mouth again and placed a finger to your lips, shushing you. “And before you ask: I replaced your bullets with blanks too, so you didn’t shoot an innocent man. I’m not that cruel.”

“You’re cruel to me.” You murmured, knocking his hand away from your face. He smiled and gave you a little shrug, just like a mischievous toddler who was proud when he colored on the walls. “You're impossible. I can’t believe I was actually worried for your life!”

“Worried? I make crazy bets all the time, princess. Gambling my life is no strange feat to me, you should know this.” He smiled again, this time actually touching your lips with the tip of his finger. Your lips parted, the fabric of his gloves sending you spinning. How soft were his actual fingers? What did they look like under those gloves? Were they long, slender, and delicate, or did they have some edge to them, all calloused and rugged? You imagined the former; Aventurine didn’t do much. “But, I have a pretty good hand right now. I bet you won’t stop me from playing it and showing you my cards.”

“But you’re gambling with my feelings too. That’s different. I don’t like being used.” You steadied yourself against the wall, trying to rid your mind of thoughts about his hands. Wait, when did he get so close? You were backed against the wall now, Aventurine caging you there with his lanky form.

“And I’ll make it up to you, just relax, babydoll. I just needed to be close to you. I couldn’t take it anymore.” He placed his forehead against yours, squeezing his eyes shut. His hand fit perfectly with her cheek as if their bodies were crafted for each other. You weren’t so sure, but the way you were feeling right now wasn’t professional.

“Let me take care of you instead for a chance.” He left featherlight kisses on your forehead, trailing down the side of your face. Each kiss grew longer than the last, his lips unable to pull away from you. He cupped both of your cheeks, his lips nearly touching yours as he spoke. “You aren’t pushing me away. I did all this for a moment alone with you, away from prying eyes. Now the IPC can’t punish you if you indulge a little. Please, pretty girl, let me have this. Let me have you.”

You shuddered from his warm breath on your mouth, months of his teasing and antics festering inside you. Defeat was so easy in this moment, the taste of another person’s lips a fleeting memory ever since you got this job. His constant advances would only get worse the more you rejected him. Aventurine always got what he was due. Always. Whatever it be you warming his bed one night or taking you in the back of an alleyway, he’d get it. Deep down, you loved being chased, but now the hunter finally cornered its prey.

“Not again. Never again after this, okay? One time so you make it fucking count.” You grabbed him by his shirt collar, smashing your lips against his, the taste of champagne filling your mouth. He knew what he was doing and held the back of your head, tangling his fingers with your hair. Your actions caught him off guard though; he prepared for the crushing reality of you pushing him away, but you didn’t. Now he just needed to act like he knew you wouldn’t all along.

The softness of his lips lulled you into a daze, your hands aching from how tight you held onto him. Each time he pulled back for a breath, you didn’t give him much time to rest before your lips were on his again, asking for more which he provided with no hesitance. His teeth grazed your bottom lip, taking the delicate flesh between his teeth and playing with it before letting his tongue mold into yours.

“Someone’s a little needy. I could tell by the way you act that you’re pent up, but this is bad.” He fully pulled away with his face flushed, binding your wrists together and holding them above your head with one hand. He left open mouthed kisses down your neck to your chest. Not bothering to waste anymore time, he used his teeth to free your chest from the buttons of your blouse. “Fucking me in an alleyway like this? You must have wanted me from the beginning. Please say you’ve always wanted me, pretty girl. Please… please… fromday one, I’ve always needed you…”

He pulled down your bra with his teeth, kissing and sucking at your breasts with a hunger similar to that of a starving man. His tongue flicked over your delicate buds, moaning at the feeling of your warmth in his mouth. You were starting to think he was right. He acted like he really did need you. As you saw him buried in your chest, eyes filled with lust and desire, all your second thoughts faded to dust.

“Mr. Aventurine…” You tugged on his hair, blond locks soft as the finest silk. Of course he was soft and so delicate; he felt like he could break with one wrong move from you. How was he so torturous and annoying yet the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen?

Aventurine’s heart stopped at the sound of your whiny cry of his name. The sound he’s been craving was more beautiful than he could have ever thought.

“I got you, my princess. You’re so beautiful, so fucking gorgeous.” He held up his free hand to his lips, biting at the fabric a few times before getting a hold of the glove and slowly pulling it off. He kept eye contact with you as he did, giving you the impression he was trying to be seductive about it. Before you could say anything about it though, he was already back to your body, hands roaming down to the waistband of your pants.

Within moments, your pants and undergarments were bunched at your knees, and Aventurine got straight to abusing your clit, your already slick folds acting as the perfect lube. “You’re so wet for me. What a naughty, naughty girl you are. So bad, you couldn't hold back that professional facade for long. Were your panties always dripping when you got home? Did you touch yourself and think about me doing this? What a fucking slut.”

He chuckled and collected the slick before shoving a single finger into you, letting out a louder moan than you. He loved the way you felt around him, how tight you were squeezing just one finger. “Fuck… so tight. Can you even take another?” He managed to get another finger into you, stretching you out as he twisted deeper inside of you. He worked at a slow pace while also kissing your neck and chest, selfishly leaving marks in his wake. Eventually, he sped up, losing himself as he pounded into you with another finger.

Your body convulsed, hiccuping in pleasure. “Fuck! Fuck! S-sir-! Shit, I’m gonna- gonna...” You leaned your head on his shoulder, biting down hard to silence your moans and other noises. What had been but five minutes, and you were already falling apart.

“So fast and easy. Cum then, you fucking whore, cum all over daddy’s fingers.” He demanded, slamming his fingers deeper inside of you. You threw your head back, crying out profanities you hope nobody passing by heard. Your walls clenched around him, a wave of pleasure crashing through your body as you coated his fingers in your pleasure.

“There you go, just like that. You feel so good squeezing my fingers like that, good girl.” He pulled out of you after helping you come down from your high, his long, slender fingers covered in your release. He didn’t waste any time in getting rid of the evidence, moaning at your taste as he licked himself clean. “So good, I love you…”

He hoped you didn’t hear that last part, biting his lip to silence the words he just spoke. Thankfully, you looked too dazed to care. If you brought it up later, he’d tease you until you didn’t think it happened.

He let go of your wrists and embraced you, cradling your head against his chest and letting you put yourself back together. He kissed your forehead, mumbling any praises he could think of in your ear. He wanted to savor this moment because in a few minutes, he knew he’d be pushed away again. No matter how good he made you feel; you’d make it clear to him that you’d never fall for one of his traps again. That’s just the woman you were, and he didn’t make bets he knew he couldn’t win.

A/N: this kinda got out of hand, and Aventurine bangs his bodyguard turned into Aventurine becomes a menace (again). If anyone likes this, I’d be happy to make a part two with more detail on how they got together. I apologize to the requester if this isn’t what you had in mind, but I still hope you enjoyed it! <3

Requests are open!

#hsr aventurine #hsr x reader #hsr x reader smut #hsr smut #star rail aventurine #aventurine x reader smut #aventurine smut #aventurine x reader #aventurine honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader smut #honkai star rail smut #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail #smut #18+ mdni #mdni

999 notes · View notes

moraxsthrone · 11 months

Note

Um, hello. I'm a little nervous to make this request, so please forgive me if I messed up.

May I request headcanons of Kaeya, Diluc, Itto, Thoma and Zhongli 's girlfriend bringing them homemade lunch while their working and when asked who she's looking for, she happily says "My handsome husband, the one and only (boy's name), of course!" while the boys are within earshot?

I just wanna see these boys acting lovestruck and blushy

//peeks out from the hole of chaos that is my life.

omg nonnie, i'm so sorry it's taken me so long to answer this. i wonder if you'll even see it. 🥺 if anyone did anything wrong here, it's me.

— how he reacts when you bring him homemade lunch at work

— pairings — diluc, itto, kaeya, thoma, zhongli, and (bonus) tighnari x f!reader

— notes — sfw. fluff. diluc's is a drabble //help. his just came to me so vividly. the rest are headcanons, as requested.

— diluc —

your wine tycoon husband is fetching a couple of barrels from the storage area in the back of angel’s share when he hears your voice. he wonders why you’re here so early in the afternoon (you’re not kaeya after all), but a small smile still manages to grace his face as charles asks if he can get you a drink. diluc is just about to round the corner when he hears you answer cheerily, “no, thank you. i’m just here to bring lunch to my handsome husband, diluc! i made him his favorite and even threw in some grape juice from the winery!” the tavern owner stops dead in his tracks, his heart skipping a million beats. it’s adorable, really. not only is he easily flustered, but his fair skin is so quick to show even the slightest color. he knows he’s flushed a bright red from his neck to his ears. he’s too embarrassed to let his employee see him like this so he panics and this grown ass man HIDES BEHIND A FUCKING WINE BARREL!

he can almost hear the shit-eating grin on charles’s face when he points towards the back and tells you where you can find your “handsome husband, diluc”. he should dock his pay for that. now what does he do? just as you clear the bar area, you see the top of a crimson ponytail behind a barrel in the dim corridor. “diluc? is that you, baby?” the jig is up; there’s no point trying to hide anymore so he stands up slowly. “why were you crouched behind that wine barrel?” you press, and he clears his throat. “i was…uhhh…i dropped…something,” he stammers, doing his best to preserve his signature stoicism. but as you get closer you see the deep red blush that rivals the natural color of his hair. “wait…are you blushing?” “no.” “you’re blushing!” laughing, you start to touch his face, but he quickly covers it with both his hands, muffling his voice when he groans, “why must you always tease me like this?” “because you’re so cute when you blush,” you say, still giggling while trying to pry his hands away. he can hear charles wheezing behind the bar. “stop! go away, woman! you’re making it worse!”

— itto —

who are we kidding? itto doesn’t work.

but let’s assume he’s doing an odd job and one of his gang members spots you as you’re approaching (not knowing you're his boss's wife) and tells you it’s too dangerous to pass through the area.

itto is out of eyeshot, but your voice is music to his ears when he hears you refer to him as your husband.

“yeah! i made him his favorite and brought enough for everyone!”

his face lights up with a big, stupid grin bc that is easily one of the nicest things anyone has done for his gang.

just as akira is taking some of the bags you’ve been carrying by yourself, your big oni husband rounds the corner and is headed right for you with his pink-dusted cheeks.

picks you up into a hug and gives you a big, long, close-lipped kiss with unshed tears wetting his eyelashes.

when shinobu ribs him for crying, he denies it.

“i- i’m not crying, shinobu! my uhh…my allergies are acting up again!”

— kaeya —

it means the whole fucking world to him?

he never thought he’d have someone in his life who would go out of their way to bring him lunch that THEY MADE JUST FOR HIM.

he may not seem like it, but kaeya loooooves being domestic with you.

he smirks and teases you when you fuss over him, but he EATS THAT SHIT UP.

please do little things like this for him? it makes him feel so cared for, something he feels like he’s missed out on for most of his life.

ever the romantic, the captain sweeps you up into his arms bridal-style, making you squeal and laugh right in front of all his subordinates.

kaeya makes YOU blush, not the other way around, okay?

— thoma —

he’s usually the one waiting on others hand and foot so when you do something so domestic and thoughtful for him, his pretty green eyes positively SPARKLE.

the brightest smile spreads across his face along with the swath of pink that stretches from one cheek to the other.

immediately wants to make something for you too.

he insists!

so you sit and watch him whip something up for you in the kamisato kitchen, your chin resting in your palms wondering how you got so lucky to marry the sweetest man in all of teyvat.

he packs both your lunches and leads you outside and finds the prettiest sakura tree to sit beneath while you enjoy your meals together.

— zhongli —

he’s touched, but it takes a lot more than bringing him food or referring to him as your husband to fluster the former archon.

if anything, he barely suppresses a smirk - satisfied with the pride in your voice when you call him “husband”.

he stands from his desk and steps out of his office to greet you in the funeral parlor’s lobby, shoulders back and head held high because he’s quietly proud of you too.

“my darling love…” he starts, seeing the delicious meal that he could smell from his office. “you truly shouldn’t have…”

“but i wanted to,” you say shyly as he leans in to leave a quick peck on your cheek.

“will you be joining me?” he asks, hopeful.

“oh, this is just for you, dear. i didn’t bring any for myself. i thought you might be too busy...”

“then i’ll share with you, my love,” he insists, offering you his arm, which you take with a smile and let him lead you back to his office.

— tighnari (bonus) —

a handful of forest rangers are standing on the dock near tighnari’s hut when you flash them a quick smile before heading past them towards your husband’s office.

one of them stops you. “ma’am, you can’t just walk into the chief officer’s-”

you laugh sweetly and wave him off. “i can do a lot more than you think i can…”

it is at that moment that the rangers stiffen as their officer steps out with a stern expression on his face.

his multi-colored eyes are fixed and serious, but as a rosy heat rises to his pale cheeks you swear you hear a snicker from his group of subordinates.

you walk up to where tighnari is holding one of the giant leaf flaps open in the doorway and give him a quick little peck on the cheek.

that sends the angry blush all the way to the insides of his perked ears.

he dismisses the rangers as you walk past him and into his office like it’s your second home.

his watchful eyes follow his rangers as they disperse before he lowers the leaf flap to join you within.

he sniffs at the air. “wait. did you…?”

you simply nod with a pleased smile as you set the frond-wrapped box down on his desk. you’d made his favorite: forest watcher’s choice, rife with various (non-poisonous) mushrooms that you know he finds most delicious.

nari rounds his desk to join you and puts a gloved hand on the small of your back as he leans in and kisses your temple, ear twitching and tail wisping behind him.

“thank you, love. you’re too good to me,” he muses.

3K notes · View notes

andvys · 6 months

Text

I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | part 19

Warnings: slight angst, mentions of drugs, alcohol consumption, reader getting high, spin the bottle.... don't hate me,

Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!reader, Eddie Munson x fem!reader, Robin Buckley x Chrissy Cunningham

Summary: The last high school party ends in a way you never thought it would

Word count: 8k+

A/N: @hellfire--cult Roe, you are such a big help, thank you so so much for always helping me with ideas and dialogues, ilysm

series masterlist

The dreamy look in Chrissy’s eyes isn’t very hard to miss, it’s been there for weeks now. The smile that lingers on her soft features matches the lovestruck eyes. Lost in her thoughts, she completely dismisses the things you and Heather are talking about. You don’t take it to heart.

It took you a moment but once you noticed how her eyes light up and how her cheeks flush a deeper color every time Robin comes around, you realized what was happening to your sweet friend.

And by the look on Robin’s face every time she sees Chrissy, you know that she is feeling just the same.

Chrissy giggles more than usual whenever the taller girl speaks – she could say anything to her and Chrissy would smile and look up at her dreamily with her cute red cheeks. She probably doesn’t even notice how flustered Robin gets or how she stutters over certain words sometimes.

You are happy about Chrissy’s newfound feelings for her, knowing that Robin reciprocates them. She doesn’t have to hurt anymore.

“Are you gonna wear that to the party?” Heather asks, eying the dress on your frame.

You stop applying mascara and pull back to look at her reflection through the large mirror on Chrissy’s pink wall.

“Yeah, why?” You ask, looking down at yourself – self consciously.

She shrugs, closing the magazine she was previously reading, she throws it on Chrissy’s bed.

“It’s a shame that Munson isn’t coming tonight, I know he would’ve loved you in that dress,” she says, winking.

Chrissy stops brushing her hair and turns her head to look at you.

The look on Heather’s face is smug, she is twirling her curls with her finger, wiggling her brows at you.

It is a shame that he isn’t coming but tonight is his last campaign before he gives up his beloved Dungeon Master position to someone else, Gareth probably. High school is over and Hellfire club will no longer be a part of his life – he will still play but it won’t ever be the same again.

You are no longer Cheer Captain and Eddie is no longer the Dungeon master.

There is something sad about having to say goodbye to your High School days but there is also something exciting about stepping into the unknown and getting out into the world.

You and Eddie celebrated by having lunch with your mom and his uncle after the graduation ceremony. It was nice, you had fun but a part of you couldn’t rest, knowing that Steve’s parents couldn’t make it to see him graduating.

You haven’t seen much of him either, you saw him in the crowd and on stage when he got his diploma but that’s all, you couldn’t find him anywhere else afterwards. You couldn’t congratulate him.

A part of you hopes that he will be at the party tonight, though you doubt that he will come.

You don’t feel your cheeks warming up, nor do you notice the look in your own eyes. You shift uncomfortably, breaking eye contact, you lean closer to the mirror again. You place the mascara bottle back in your little bag and reach for the powdered blush.

“Oh honey, you don’t need any more of that,” Chrissy says, giggling as she touches your hot cheek.

You roll your eyes and shake your head at them, “you are both insufferable,” you mumble, “it’s a normal dress, he wouldn’t think anything of it.”

Heather giggles behind you, “oh my sweet y/n,” she sighs as she kneels down behind you, carefully wrapping her arms around you, she leans her chin on your shoulder, “you are so oblivious.”

You wonder what she would think if she found out that Nancy would agree with her words.

“And so blind,” Chrissy adds.

“Maybe our girl needs a pair of cute glasses,” Heather says, running her fingers through your hair.

“I don’t need glasses!”

“Sure, you don’t.”

“Heather,” you mumble, raising your brows at her, “how about we talk about you and pizza guy.”

“Pizza and weed guy,” Chrissy corrects you with a smile.

Unlike you, Heather doesn’t blush or get flustered. She smiles and shrugs, “what about us?”

You and Chrissy face each other with surprised looks on your faces.

For weeks, you have been speculating about Heather and Argyle, wondering if the two of them are a thing or not. Heather had been secretive about the meetups. At first, you both thought that she continued seeing Billy but then you saw him making out with a girl from the cheer squad.

Apparently Heather and Billy have never been a ‘thing’ in the first place. It was a ‘no strings’ kind of thing until one of them got sick of the other – which, you could easily suspect Billy to be the one who got sick but it was the other way around.

Heather had stood him up for Argyle. Billy didn’t give much of a reaction to it but unfortunately, he set his eyes back on you – much to your dismay.

“There is an ‘us’?” You ask in surprise.

Heather smiles brighter, she bites her lip and leans back, “maybe,” she grins, “I mean he just asked me to be his girlfriend the other day,” she says casually as she looks down at her nails.

You and Chrissy gasp at her words, you both turn around to face her and squeal in excitement as you both throw your arms around her, catching her off guard. She falls down against the carpet and you both join her, giggling.

“Oh my god!” Heather laughs.

“Heather has a boyfriend!” Chrissy says in a sing-song voice.

“We gotta celebrate it,” you say, squeezing your friend tightly.

“Oh we’re going to,” Chrissy smirks at you.

“I guess we’re getting drunk tonight.”

You would be lying if you said that you aren’t feeling the slightest bit nervous. You haven’t had any alcohol since the night you went on a date with Ray and that night ended badly.

By the time you actually make it to the big graduation party at Tina’s place, it’s already in full swing. The music is picked and chosen by her best friend Faithe – who strictly listens to 80’s pop music; Duran Duran, Wham!, Madonna – especially Madonna.

Your friends scatter away from you the moment they lay their eyes on Robin and Argyle – Argyle who scoops Heather up in his arms and kisses her in front of everyone to see. You can’t help but laugh.

Robin and Chrissy disappear in the crowd, giggling and leaning closer to each other, both sporting deep blushes on their faces. Cute.

Now that you’re alone, you can’t help but wish that you didn’t come. You wish Eddie was here. You are not mad at them for leaving you behind – they’re in love and in their own little worlds. You don’t blame them.

Though you can’t help but feel out of place and awkward standing here in the doorway, all by yourself.

Is that how your friends always felt when you would leave them just to be with Steve?

With a sigh, you walk further into the house, pushing through the crowds until you make it to the kitchen. You feel relieved to see that it isn’t as crowded as the living room or even the hallway.

The kitchen counter is littered with various drinks and snacks, greasy junk food that will surely look more appealing to you when you’re drunk. You grab yourself one of the red solo cups. Just as you’re about to pour yourself some punch, you get interrupted by a hand closing in around your wrist.

“Don’t drink that shit.”

You look over your shoulder, only to roll your eyes in annoyance when you notice the smirk on his face and the gross look in his eyes.

“Fuck off, Hargrove,” you mumble as you push your hand off your wrist.

“Let me make you a real drink, baby.”

Once again, you have to roll your eyes at him. You place the cup down and turn around to face him, “what and spike it with drugs?”

He raises his brows, lifting his hand up, he places it on his chest – of course, he wears the shirt unbuttoned, well almost.

“What do you think of me?”

“You don’t wanna know,” you murmur under your breath.

His blue eyes glisten with something, the smirk of amusement never falls. He takes a step closer – at least, he smells good.

“You look like you can use a drink, let me make you one. It’s better than the shit you were about to drink,” he says as he reaches for the bottle of whiskey behind you, purposely leaning closer until his chest is almost pressed against yours and you can feel his minty breath on your skin. He glances down at your lips.

“Billy.”

“Yes, sweet thing?”

You put your hand on his chest and push him away, “you’re not slick, stop trying to get in my pants.”

He chuckles and leans back again, he unscrews the cap of the glass bottle.

“Tell me,” he reaches for the red up and pours in some of the whiskey, “don’t you want to have a good time?”

“Uh, I am having a good time,” you lie.

He chuckles again and places the bottle back on the table before he reaches for another. He gives you a doubtful look, “you don’t look like you’re having fun.”

“I just got here.”

“And you already look like you wanna get out.”

You clench your jaw and look away, not saying anything.

“Where’s your boyfriend?”

“Eddie is not my boyfriend,” you mumble, narrowing your eyes at him.

Eyes smug and lips curled into a smirk, he shakes his head, “how’d you know who I was talking about?”

Crossing your arms over your chest, you huff.

“Is he not here tonight?” He asks as he holds out the cup to you.

You look down at the mixed drink, hesitating before you give in and take it from his hand.

“No,” you shake your head and lift the cup up to your lips, ignoring the way he looks at you as you take the first sip. The strong and bitter taste trickles down your throat, you can’t help but squint your eyes, “wow, that’s strong,” you say before taking another sip.

Billy groans, “shit, and here I thought I could make him jealous enough to finally confess his feelings for you.”

You swallow the drink just in time before you start choking.

You have been good at avoiding that topic after your conversation with Nancy.

“Are you okay?” He chuckles, stepping closer to pat your back gently, “do you need me to make you feel better?”

“Billy!” You groan as you push his hand off.

“It’s so hot when you say my name–”

“Leave her alone, Hargrove.”

Steve.

His voice sends shivers down your spine but it also fills you with relief.

Billy is not a threat, at least not to you. He might get on your last nerve but he is not Ray. Still, you are always annoyed by his presence.

Billy’s eyes light up like the ones of a kid on christmas morning. His smirk widens and he turns around.

Eddie may not be here but Steve is. Steve who wants you just as much as Eddie does. Steve who got jealous at every small interaction you had with Billy – Steve who still gets jealous.

Steve glares at Billy, with his hands on his hips, he waits for the latter to step away from you.

They look at each other and you are surprised to see Billy so relaxed, the sight of Steve usually makes him angry. Tonight, he seems to be in a different mood though. The scowl is replaced by a smirk.

He looks back at you before he steps away, “if you wanna have a good time, you know where to find me,” he winks.

“No thanks,” you scrunch your face up in disgust.

He chuckles and finally walks away, passing by Steve only to halt beside him. Billy stares him down, another chuckle of amusement falls from his lips. He slaps Steve’s shoulder, “lighten up, Harrington. Maybe you’ll get lucky tonight.”

Steve shrugs his hand off, he clenches his jaw and glares at the blond.

Billy shakes his head, “you sure need to blow off some steam,” he smirks, raising his brows, he gestures to you, “she needs it too – although, I’m sure Munson helps her with that,” he whispers with a smug look on his face.

“Fuck off,” Steve grumbles, though he can’t stop himself from feeling jealous.

Surprisingly, Billy drops it and walks away. Though, both you and Steve know that this isn’t the last you will see of Billy tonight.

Steve rolls his eyes and huffs in annoyance before he makes his way over to you.

Still with the drink in your hand, you stand in the same spot as before. Staring at him, unknowingly making him nervous.

“Hey,” he smiles.

He takes in the sight of you in your little black dress, your hair is falling softly over your shoulders, the front pieces are secured with glittery clips, your lips are a soft pink, shiny with gloss. Your manicured fingers are wrapped around the red solo cup.

You look beautiful. He wants to say, but he’s not sure if that’s something you want to hear from him again.

“Hi,” you smile up at him.

“Did your friends ditch you?”

“Yes, actually,” you chuckle, “Chrissy is hanging out with her… new best friend Robin and Heather is with Argyle.”

“Oh, the new guy with the long hair?” He asks, gesturing to the hair.

“Yeah!”

“Ah,” he nods.

Steve looks better, there are no dark circles under his eyes anymore, though his eyes still hold the same sadness as before.

You didn’t expect to see him here tonight. Him and Tommy aren’t friends anymore and now that he and Nancy are broken up, he doesn’t have her either. Steve always hated coming to parties alone so that leaves you wondering…

“Are you here with someone?” You ask, feeling a rush of jealousy at the thought of him being on a date with some other girl.

He shakes his head. Watching the way your features soften and your shoulder slump with relief when he says ‘no’.

“You’re here by yourself?”

“Yeah, I-I didn’t want to come but it’s the last high school party,” he says, shrugging. “I didn’t want to miss it.” I didn’t want to miss you. He reaches for one of the beers on the table, though when he opens the can and takes the first sip, he scrunches his face up in disgust. He hates lukewarm beverages, especially alcoholic ones.

“You don’t look like you’re having fun.”

“You don’t either,” he chuckles, eying the bored expression on your face.

“Well, getting drunk by yourself isn’t fun.”

Steve’s eyes are soft in a way they had never been before, not even when you just started dating, when things were still good, when he was still good to you. And just his eyes alone, the look in them is enough to cause a whirlwind of emotions inside of you.

You remember your night together. The one back in december. The one that was supposed to be your last night together. The one when you said goodbye – the one that was supposed to be your last goodbye.

There will never be a goodbye for you and Steve, not really.

“But… we could spend some time together.”

The look in his eyes is one of surprise. You may have been kinder to him in the past few weeks, but he still didn’t expect you to want to spend time with him.

“Y-You want to spend time with me?”

A mixture of emotions rush through him. Excitement, happiness but also nervousness. The last time you had spent a night together, it ended with you both crying.

You look around and he just now notices the sadness in your eyes.

The last time you went to one of Tina’s parties, he got smashed and he broke your heart. You want to replace those memories with new ones. As though it could ever kill the old ones.

“You don’t have to say yes, there’s plenty of girls who’d want to–”

“I wanna spend time with you.”

A shy smile appears on your face when your features relax again.

He smiles back, though he can’t help but wonder where Eddie is.

“Eddie isn’t here tonight?”

He watches you closely, the way your lips set into a slight pout and your brows furrow.

“No.”

Did something happen? He wonders. Where you go, Eddie goes. It’s odd to see you without him after seeing you with him, everywhere.

“Right so… Uh, what should we do?”

“What do you mean?”

You give him a smirk, placing the drink back on the counter, you lift your hand up. Steve can’t help but follow your movements with his eyes, only to stare in surprise when you lift your hand and reach for something… in your bra. He just now notices how the locket rests perfectly between your boobs.

He clears his throat and looks away with a blush on his cheeks.

“Are we getting drunk or high?” You hold the joint in front of his eyes, giggling when his eyes widen even further.

He grabs your hand and pulls it down, trying to hide the joint in your hand.

“Y/n!” He yells in a whisper, looking around to see if anyone saw, but there is no one looking at the two of you, there is no one in the kitchen at all. He turns back, looking down at you with a bewildered look on his face.

“Or both?” You giggle, “Eddie and I do both sometimes.”

He knows that it’s not only your looks that have changed in the past few months – it’s nothing drastic, it’s only different clothes, different makeup and your hair that you wear differently – maybe your perfume too. Clearly, you have changed too. You will always be a sweet girl, the one that is too kind to the world despite how harshly it treated you in the past, but he wasn’t aware that your opinion on drugs has changed.

He shouldn’t be surprised about the joint in your hand. You do hang out with Eddie, after all. Though, he didn’t expect you to be so open about this. Now, he can’t help but wonder if there are other things that you do with Eddie.

Steve won’t ask questions that he might regret asking. Instead, he agrees to both and pushes any thought that only leaves him upset, away. He wants to have a good night. He wants to have one good last high school party with you.

So, he takes the joint from you with the hand that is still holding the beer and with his free hand, he reaches for yours. Interlocking his fingers with yours. He feels his heart skipping a beat when you don’t pull away.

“Let’s do both.”

A smile tugs at your lips, you grab your drink from the counter, “let’s go outside.”

As Steve leads you out of the kitchen, he pulls you even closer to him before you walk into the crowded hallway. Neither of you notice the eyes that have set on you.

“Would you look at that?” Carol smirks as she turns her head to look at Tommy, who is looking down at his beer in boredom.

He lifts his head, looking down at Carol, he raises his brows at her.

She rolls her eyes and nudges her head in your direction.

“Oh,” he chuckles when he sees the two of you.

“Let’s make this party more interesting.”

Chrissy is drunk, not drunk on alcohol, drunk on something else.

Robin is talking about her favorite bands, the ones she wants to see live at some point. She’s waving her hand around as she talks – rambles. Robin’s cheeks are flushed but Chrissy doesn’t know whether it’s from the heat, the alcohol or something else – she hopes that it’s from something else.

Chrissy nods along with a smile on her face, admiring the girl in front of her. Loving the way Robin leans closer to her so she doesn’t have to scream over the loud music. She can’t unsee the small differences between them; Robin’s nails are painted black, silver rings adorn her long fingers while Chrissy’s nails are painted a baby pink color, a single golden ring is on her middle finger. Robin’s clothes are dark, Chrissy’s clothes are bright and girly. Their music taste is not the same, though Chrissy is open for changes. She loves how different they are.

Robin’s hair is short, her curls are messy, her bangs are long and they need to be cut, Chrissy can’t help but raise her hand to brush them away from her eyes so she can see her beautiful eyes.

Robin’s eyes widen at Chrissy’s action, the already pink blush on her cheeks takes on a red color and the blonde girl in front of her can’t help but giggle to herself when Robin stops all her rambling and starts staring at her instead, in silence.

Neither of them know how the other actually feels, if they weren’t so scared, they’d see the obvious signs.

They look into each other’s eyes, both trying to fight the smiles off their faces. Neither of them notice the girl that stopped in front of them with a worried look on her face.

“Hey, lover girls. Have you seen y/n?”

Both of them tear the gazes away from one another, clearing their throats and looking awkwardly at the brunette.

“W-What?” Chrissy asks, feeling grateful for the foundation she had put on her face earlier tonight. She can feel her hot cheeks.

Heather looks around the room, trying to spot you in the crowds but you are nowhere to be seen.

“I haven’t seen her since we got here.”

Robin straightens her back, a worried look takes over her face as well. She hasn’t even greeted you properly, too focused on the blonde beside her.

“Oh,” Chrissy mumbles, getting up to look around as well, “do you think Eddie came?”

“No, he takes his campaigns very seriously,” Robin says with wide eyes, “he got mad at me for even asking if he’d come. It’s the cult of Vecna tonight – whatever that means.”

“I’ve looked for her everywhere but–”

“She’s playing spin the bottle with Carol and the others.”

All three of them turn around to face the girl that chimed in. Tina.

“She’s what!?”

Tina chuckles in amusement, she nudges her chin into the direction of the dining room.

“Looks like she’s having fun,” is all she says before she walks off again.

The three girls share a look of confusion before they make their way over to the other room. Trying not to bump into any of the drunken girls who are dancing carelessly.

They all expect to walk in on a very drunk you. Because, usually it takes a lot to convince you to join a game of truth or dare, never have i ever and let alone spin the bottle. You don’t like kissing strangers or risking the possibility to kiss someone you cannot stand.

Though when they walk into the room and they see you sitting in a circle with a few people you don’t like, they can’t help but halt in their tracks and stare in confusion.

Tommy, Carol, Billy, Nancy, Jonathan, and a few girls from the cheer squad are sitting in the circle. None of them which you can stand – well, except for Jonathan, maybe.

And then there is Steve, who sits beside you.

You look… sober. Maybe a little intoxicated but very far from drunk or high. Although, when Robin takes a closer look at you, she notices the redness in your eyes, maybe you are a little high.

“What the hell,” Chrissy mumbles, looking at all the people in the circle.

Your lipstick is still intact, you probably haven’t kissed yet.

Carol is the first to notice the three girls, a smirk appears on her smug face, “oh, why don’t you join us?”

You turn your head, suddenly feeling flustered when you see your friends. Heather’s face says it all, ‘what the fuck?’

“No thanks, Carol.”

Billy smirks at Heather, “oh come on, Heather. Don’t you want a little kiss?”

She scrunches her face up in disgust, “no thanks, Hargrove. I’ve had enough of you.”

Chuckles sound through the room and Tommy claps his hand on Billy’s back, “you got burned.”

Billy chuckles, “not really, I’m gonna kiss someone else tonight,” he smirks, turning to look at you.

You don’t even know how you let yourself get roped into this. This wasn’t even supposed to be a game of spin the bottle, it was supposed to be truth or dare – though Tommy changed his decision at the last minute and managed to convince all the others as well. You didn’t want to chicken out, so you stayed and luckily, you didn’t have to kiss anyone yet. Neither did Steve.

For the first time tonight, you feel relieved that Eddie isn’t here.

You glance at Robin and Chrissy who stare at the men in the circle – both sporting looks of disgust. You smile in amusement. They both take a seat on the loveseat, clearly not interested in joining the game.

“Heather, come on,” Tommy smirks, eying her up and down, “it’s the last time you get to play one of these silly games. After this night, we’re all adults.”

“No thanks,” Heather snorts as she crosses her arms over her chest, “you still need to grow some, Hagan.”

This time it’s Billy who laughs at him, he leans closer, “burned,” he chuckles.

Nancy rolls her eyes, “I’m done playing.”

“Oh but Nancy, the game hasn’t even started yet,” Carol smirks at her, stopping her from getting up by placing her hand on her upper arm.

Nancy glares at the redhead and pushes her hand off. Jonathan looks tense beside her, he sits there awkwardly, looking like he wants to be anywhere but here.

How did Carol even convince these two to join?

Tommy and Billy look like they are having the time of their lives. The cheerleaders look… bored. Carol looks smug as always. You and Steve? You are both trying not to burst into giggles.

When Carol found the two of you in the backyard, you were laying on the grass, passing the joint back and forth and laughing about things that weren’t even funny. She got you at the right time, you and Steve would have said yes to anything in the states you were in. You were looking for amusement and now, well, now you got it.

Sarah kisses Tommy. Tommy kisses Hailey. Carol looks pissed.

You guess that the rumors about them are true. They are broken up. But what is new? No one has a messier on and off relationship than these two.

Hailey, one of the girls from the cheer squad, is the one who always makes up all these rumors that the people love so much. Her bright red hair makes her skin appear even more pale, though they match with the red lips which are now smudged. She spins the bottle and finally it lands on the one who has been waiting to be kissed.

Billy.

You are pretty sure that Billy had a taste of the redhead before – there aren’t many girls he hasn’t been with yet. He gets around.

You scoot a little closer to Steve and glance at him in disgust at the makeout session that is happening in front of your face. Gross.

Steve can’t help but chuckle at the look on your face.

“Dude,” Tommy laughs at his friend, “calm down.”

From the corner of your eye, you see Robin and Chrissy leaving.

When Billy pulls away, he gives Hailey a pat on the cheek. She giggles at him and licks her lips as she sits back in her place.

“This is gonna appear in my nightmare tonight,” Steve whispers to you.

You hold your hand in front of your mouth as you laugh at his words.

When Billy spins the bottle, your night changes for the worse.

You watch it spin with a pounding heart, for the first time, you watch it nervously.

Please don’t let it be me, please don’t let it be me, please don’t–

The glass bottle stops spinning and it’s pointing right at you. Oh god. No.

The music in the other room is still playing just as loud as before, though the laughter from Tommy and Carol somehow sounds louder than Billy Joel’s voice blaring through the speakers.

You don’t notice the way Steve tenses up beside you or the way his eyes flash with anger and jealousy.

“Fuck yes,” Billy chuckles.

You only feel the despair in your body and the annoyance that rushes through you when you look at a smug Billy, who looks like he’s won the lottery. His eyes are filled with excitement, his lips that are now red thanks to Hailey’s lipstick curl into a smirk.

“Come here, y/n.”

Steve clenches his fist and his jaw. The fire inside of him is burning.

“Yeah, y/n,” Carol tilts her head as she takes in the hesitation on your face, “don’t be such a pussy.”

Of course these words would come back to you. It’s what you said to her when she refused to kiss Lily, who already left after a few rounds.

You roll your eyes and take a sip of your drink before you put the cup down.

Heather, who is still around, gives you an apologetic look. God, you are glad that she doesn’t like him anymore, you would have preferred to be a ‘pussy’ than kiss some guy that your friend likes.

You meet Billy in the middle.

He doesn’t even hesitate to cup your cheeks with his hands. He doesn’t lean in, right away. He looks over at Steve for a split second, almost laughing at the look on his face. He turns his attention back on you.

You really don’t want to do this. You really don’t want to kiss him. You’d honestly prefer to kiss anyone else in this room except for Billy Hargove. Anyone. You feel the eyes on you. You feel Steve’s eyes burning into your skin. You feel Carol’s eyes on you. Heather’s and even Nancy’s.

Billy smells like cigarettes, whiskey and cologne.

He smashes his lips against yours and kisses you. You close your eyes to make it less awkward. You begrudgingly kiss him back. He slides his hand down to your waist and pulls you closer until your chest is pressed against his.

You want to roll your eyes at Tommy’s whistle and at Carol’s giggle but you ignore them.

Billy kisses you roughly – it’s not as bad as the kiss you have had with Ray but you still can’t shake the fact that you are kissing him. At least, his lips are soft. They taste like strawberry – probably thanks to Hailey and her strawberry lip gloss that she always wears over her red lipstick.

Billy’s lips move slower now but still just as deep, you feel his breath on your skin, his touch that is surprisingly soft. If you didn’t know any better, you would think that he is trying to savor every second of the kiss.

You make the mistake of letting yourself get lost in your thoughts. Suddenly, it’s not Billy kissing you anymore, it’s another man.

It’s his lips that you are kissing, his shoulders that you are touching, his ring that is digging into your waist, it’s him, it’s–

Billy. You are kissing Billy. You instantly pull away when the realization sinks back in, you push him away and pull back.

Billy chuckles, he looks at you through hooded eyes and leans closer, “that made me really fucking hard,” he whispers.

You scrunch your face up in disgust and turn away from him, wanting to escape him quickly. You glance at Steve, who is looking at the ground with an angry and powerless look on his face. Shit.

“Well, that was one hell of a kiss,” Tommy laughs, not looking at you, not looking at Billy but at Steve, he is looking at Steve and he is smirking.

“You must feel stupid, huh Harrington?”

“Shut up, Tommy.”

He pays you no mind, his attention is solely on Steve. And the others are staring at him as well. You can’t help but glance at Nancy, she’s looking at him with an almost pitiful look in her eyes.

You quickly reach for the bottle, wanting to kill the awkward tension in the room.

This night can’t get any worse. You think to yourself.

You spin the bottle as you inwardly curse at yourself for letting Carol convince you to join this stupid game. You didn’t even want to kiss anyone, let alone Billy. You didn’t want to upset Steve. You didn’t want to think about–

“Oh!” Carol laughs loudly, clapping her hands together.

Hailey snickers next to her, looking at you in amusement.

“Oh damn,” Tommy snorts.

Your heart begins to race in your chest but you don’t even know who it’s pointing at yet. You have a feeling who it is. And when you see the apologetic look in both Jonathan’s eyes and Heather’s eyes, you know.

You blink and take a deep breath before you glance at the bottle.

The bottle that is pointing right at him. Steve.

The girls around you are giggling, giving you smug looks. Carol is staring at you expectedly. Bitch.

Steve is staring at you already, suddenly, every ounce of anger has faded away. His eyes are wide, lips parted as he looks at you.

This isn’t ideal. This shouldn’t have to happen this way. But, he would be lying if he said that it’s something he doesn’t want. Maybe, this will be the last time. Maybe, this will be the only chance he gets to feel your kiss again.

“You don’t have to,” he whispers to you, but you are already moving closer to him.

You won’t walk away now. It’s exactly what they want, they want to see you running away. But you won’t run away, not now, not yet.

You ignore the pounding in your chest, the butterflies that dance in your stomach when you lean closer to him. He looks at you, wide eyed.

You don’t want it to happen this way but would you deny a kiss with him, right now? No.

“It’s just a kiss right?” You whisper as you gaze into his hazel eyes.

How could it ever be just a kiss?

You are the one to move even closer to him. You are the one to cup his cheeks.

Steve’s heart is surely about to explode.

He hates that this has to happen like this – that it’s caused by a game. That this isn’t supposed to mean anything.

Despite the others in the room, the loud music, the eyes on you. You both fade out everything around you.

It’s just you and him now.

You lean in, he leans in.

And for the first time in a long time, your lips brush against Steve’s and that is enough to set all your insides on fire. Just a simple touch.

You peck his lips, you only peck his lips and Steve is already in bliss. But then you smash your lips against his and suddenly, he is back in heaven. The light is shining again, the warmth is flooding back in, the sweetness of your lips is enough to mend his heart that he broke himself.

He doesn’t hesitate for a single second to kiss you back. He cups your cheeks and pulls you as closely as he can.

Everything around him stops existing.

All there is, is you and him.

He feels you, he feels your touch, your lips, your kiss.

He feels your love that is pouring back in.

He feels you.

You, you, you.

Everything falls back into place again.

Your lips are moving ever so softly with each other. Desperately but still passionately. Your lips still taste like cherry, his still taste minty.

His heart is racing, yours is too.

He holds you tightly but gently, he doesn’t want this moment to end, he doesn’t want to stop kissing you, he never wants to stop kissing you again.

This is right. This is what he is meant to do. This is all he’s ever dreamed of and more. He missed this. He missed you so much.

But the moment could never last long enough and he crashes back into reality when you pull away in need of air. Your lips part from his, your touch leaves his body and everything that is left behind is the kiss that lingers – the kiss that will linger for the rest of his life if this is the last one he gets from you.

His lips tingle and he fights the urge to touch them.

He doesn’t want to open his eyes, he doesn’t want to crash back into a world where you aren’t his anymore.

When he does open his eyes and he sees the look on your face, the shock in your eyes, the emotions that are still there, the love. He knows, he still has a chance.

He can still have you.

He can still fight for you.

He can still get you back.

But, for now, he lets you walk away when you make up some weak excuse and rush out of the room.

Heather doesn’t even hesitate to follow you out, calling your name and rushing after you. She passes by Argyle who is talking to a group of guys, she gives him an apologetic look.

You push past Jason Carver, pushing him out of the way.

“Hey!” He yells, “watch where you’re going!”

“Shut it, blondie,” Heather snaps at him.

You grab the leather jacket that you have left on the counter earlier and finally leave the house. The fresh air calms you down in an instant, you embrace the silence and feel grateful that there is no one out on the porch, right now.

No one except for you and Heather.

She shuts the door behind her, she crosses her arms over her chest when the chilly wind touches her bare arms.

“Are you okay?”

You lean against the railing and sigh.

“Yeah. You should go back inside, Heather.”

“No.”

She refuses to leave you alone when you’re upset.

“I’m okay.”

“But–”

You turn back around, “I’m okay,” you repeat, trying to smile at her.

“I promise, I just need a moment to myself after all of… this.”

“Are you sure?”

The sincere look in her eyes makes you smile, genuinely, this time.

You nod.

“But if you need anything, you tell me and I’ll take you home and we can have a girls night with Chrissy. Robin too.”

Your eyes soften.

“We should actually do that sometime.”

“We should.”

“Now go back inside, I’m sure your boyfriend misses you.”

She looks down and smiles, “alright..”

She turns back around, hesitantly.

“I can’t believe you used to kiss Billy all the time.”

Heather turns around to glare at you, “don’t ever mention that again.”

You giggle at the look on her face.

“I can’t believe that you kissed Billy and Steve in one night,” she smirks, winking at you before she walks back inside, leaving you by yourself.

“Right..”

You want to forget about the kiss, the one with Billy at least.

You reach for the pack of cigarettes in your pocket, walking over to the porch steps, you sit down and light a cigarette. You don’t smoke very often, only when you’re stressed.

You enjoy the silence, though, it doesn’t last very long. Someone steps out on the porch and you inwardly pray that it isn’t Steve or Billy.

The footsteps give it away, it’s neither of them.

You lift your head to look, it’s no friend of yours either.

It’s Nancy Wheeler standing in front of you – no, sitting down beside you.

“Hi.”

“Hey.”

For a moment, you both sit in silence. You offer her a cigarette, to your surprise, she takes one and lights it up.

“So, did you start paying attention?”

You shake your head with a small smile. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, sure you don’t,” Nancy chuckles.

You turn your body towards her, you lean back against the railing and look at her curiously.

Nancy crosses her legs and smokes the cigarette, giving you a tight lipped smile.

“Still oblivious, I see.”

You’re not fully oblivious. Not anymore.

“Y-You think that Eddie and I like each other.”

“No.”

You furrow your brows.

“I don’t think, I know.” She shrugs, “I guess, I just wonder why you and Eddie aren’t dating.”

You’re a little flustered by her words.

“Because he is my best friend?” You mumble as you stub out the cigarette and look down.

“Yeah, that’s what you already said, last time and it still doesn’t look like it.”

You give her a questioning look, you stare at her, and suddenly, she feels flustered.

“Why do you even care?”

Nancy hesitates, she looks down at the cigarette between her fingers. Her shoulders are slumped but she is still tense. Nancy pities Steve because she can see how much he is suffering, how much he loves you, how much he still wants you but she can’t deny that you have been in pain for so many months, some of the pain which has been caused by her. The least she can do is help you, help you understand, help you to see.

“I’m just, I’m sorry.”

She folds her hands in her lap after stubbing out the cigarette. She glances at you, almost shyly and with a hint of guilt in her blue eyes.

“What?”

She closes her eyes, she fidgets with her fingers and takes a deep breath before she opens her eyes again.

“For everything.”

Oh.

“I’m sorry for taking him away from you. I-I saw the way you two looked at each other back there. I guess, I just now realized what I’ve ruined.”

“It would’ve been someone else if it wasn’t you, Nancy.”

She furrows her brows, looking at you, almost bewildered.

“No, I don’t think so. He loves you.”

“Well, that realization came a little too late.”

“Did it?” Nancy asks, carefully.

You hesitate before you say ‘yes’.

She nods.

“But, why do you always bring Eddie up?”

“What?”

“You always talk about.. Eddie,” you frown, “do you want him now?”

The thought of it angers you. Does she always want what you have?

“Do you want Eddie now that you realized that Steve isn’t the prince you thought he was?”

Her eyes widen, “no! No, it’s not that! I-I just, I was jealous of you, not because of Eddie,” she says, shaking her head at the thought of Eddie. “I wanted what you two have.”

“A best friend?”

“That’s the thing.. I never thought you two were just… friends.”

You wait for her to continue.

“I wanted that hand holding in class, that cute bantering in the hallway, someone to lend me a shoulder whenever I need it, I wanted to be free like you were. Showing my love openly – and I found that in Jonathan. We started of as friends b-but that would have never been enough. He taught me about true love, about feeling cared for, and he waited for me. He waited and waited and I hurt him over and over by not breaking up with Steve.. Does that sound familiar?”

“Oh.”

By the look in your eyes, she knows that you begin to understand a little. Your eyes that soften when you think about him.

She opens her mouth, but she never gets to say the words she’s been meaning to say all night, because the man you have been talking about steps out. Interrupting your conversation.

Both you and Nancy turn to look at him.

He looks taken aback by the sight in front of him. He figured that you weren’t by yourself, he didn’t expect Nancy to be the one out here with you.

“Uh, can we talk y/n?” He asks, still looking between the two of you with a confused look on his face.

You and Nancy can’t help but share a look of amusement.

“Yeah, sure.”

Nancy pushes herself up with a sigh, she glances at you and gives you a small smile before she walks past Steve and walks back into the house.

Steve scratches the back of his neck, he stands there, awkwardly for a moment.

He still hasn’t told you about the break up but, he knows that you know. Everybody knows.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod, “are you?”

He walks towards you and you get back up on your feet, looking up at your ex boyfriend. Your ex boyfriend that you just kissed.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” He asks.

You shrug, “you just kissed your ex girlfriend in front of your other ex girlfriend.”

His mouth set in a hard line before he looked away with a chuckle.

An amused huff escapes you. You try to walk around him but you trip and stumble, almost falling backwards but his large hands catch you, he wraps them around your waist and pulls you closer. This time you stumble forward, right into his chest.

He uses the opportunity to wrap his arms around you fully.

“Let’s not repeat your fall from years ago.”

You gape at him.

“Can’t you let it go?!”

His eyes crinkle with amusement.

“Fuck no, I’m not letting it go. I saved you and you panicked and pushed me down – I still have the scar on my hip from it!”

You roll your eyes, chuckling.

“What did you want to talk about?”

He doesn’t answer your question, instead, he takes your hand and leads you away from the entrance, away from the porch lights, away from the place where people can see you.

You don’t question him, you follow him, just the way you always did.

Behind the house, there is no light but the moon shining down on you. And Steve can’t help but want more of what he just had.

He whispers your name and you know, you know what he wants.

“Will you forgive me for what I’m about to do?”

“What–”

He cups your cheeks and leans down to kiss you. He needs more of what he just had.

You gasp against his lips but you so easily melt into the kiss.

And the moment you kiss him back, he wraps his arms around you and suddenly, his hands are all over you, your back, your waist, the back of your neck. He is pulling you in, closer and closer until there is no space left between the two of you.

You are kissing him. You are kissing him back. Not because of a game. You are kissing him because you want to kiss him. You want him.

His heart soars.

Everything inside of him screams in joy.

He needs you, he needs you closer and closer.

He kisses you desperately.

Your tongues meet and the kiss gets more feverish, more passionate than before. Maybe more passionate than ever.

You whimper into the kiss and he is sure that it’s enough to make his heart explode.

You kiss him just as desperately. You are needy, like him.

Warmth blossoms Steve’s chest. His heart is feeling whole for the first time in a long time.

You are both breathing heavily in between kisses. He can’t get enough of you. How could he ever get enough of you? How could he ever throw this away? How could he ever push you away?

His feelings, his emotions seem to get in the way – they seem to get in between the two of you because you can feel it, you can feel what he is thinking about.

Because you begin to feel it too. The more you open your heart to him, the more you let him in – the more it hurts. You curse at it, you curse at the pain and at the dark stain that he had left on your heart.

You savor the kiss, just like he does.

He savors it too. Your kiss isn’t a promise. Not even your love is.

He destroyed too much.

And though you don’t want it, you push him away and ignore the way you already miss him and the feeling of his lips on yours.

“W-What are you doing?” Your voice is shaky and your eyes are glossy. You look up at him with saddened eyes.

Steve’s hair is disheveled, his lips are puffy from the kissing.

And he looks defeated because the look on your face tells him that this won’t mean anything.

“I-I’m sorry.. but I-I just needed to do that, at least one last time.”

You frown at his words. Despite the seriousness of the situation, he can’t help but think that you look cute.

“You can’t just kiss me after everything!” You snap at him and push past him, walking away from him.

“Dolly!”

“No!”

next chapter

tagging mutuals

@mysticmunson @taintedcigs @corrodedseraphine @corrodedcorpses @wroteclassicaly @trashmouth-richie @succubusmunson @xxhellfirebunnyxx @take-everything-you-can @nemesis729 @sherrylyn628 @somethingvicked @chrissymjstan

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson angst #stranger things angst

854 notes · View notes