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#finals season is over. it was long and hard... and right in the middle of it someone very dear to me passed away
justplaggin · 2 months
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some-bunniii · 3 months
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My Charming Red Savior [1]
・❥ You’re harassed by a man following you down the street. Luckily, a rather smiley demon swoops in and claims to be your husband.
| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 |
x: no use of y/n. i said this was going to be short and I lied, it’s about 6k words.
warnings: mild swearing
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Warning! Battery at 1%! Device will power down in 3..
You stared down at the phone in your hands as the message lit up on the screen. Eyes widening, you quickly tapped the screen, trying to bypass the pop-up and get another glimpse at the digital map you were using. 
2…
“Hold on now! Just let me see where I'm going, please!” You begged the small device, your grip tightening around it as you tried to figure out what direction you needed to go. 
1..
You peered around the small pop-up. Okay.. Pete Ave was that way, which meant you needed to take a right after the stoplight and go-
Device powering down! Have a nice day :) 
“Damnit!” You growled as the screen flashed once, and then faded to black. You squeezed your eyes shut, face lifted to the sky as you took a deep breath to center yourself.
“Move it, won’t ya?” A demon woman chastised as she hurried around you. Lowering your head, you realized you were standing in the middle of the sidewalk, your spot interrupting the flow of pedestrian traffic. Quickly, you backpedaled until your back hit a brick wall of a building. 
It was getting late in Pentagram City, and that meant you needed to hurry to get to your friend's place before the worst inhabitants of Hell came crawling out. 
She had just gotten married and moved into a rather quaint little home, and you were very happy for her. You had not seen it yet, just in pictures she had shown you on her phone and the one time you drove past it.
“Oh, pleaseeee won’t you come over tonight? I can’t wait to show you all the renovations we’ve done! It looks so much better since we bought it.” She had begged over the phone that afternoon. 
You had stood there, your nails clicking against the countertop in your kitchen as you thought. You had nothing important going on, just some light cleaning and shopping. What was the harm in going over there and visiting? 
“Okay, sure. Yeah, I can come over.” You finally spoke.
“Ahh! I’m so excited, we’ll have a big dinner and everything. I can even rent a movie for us to watch, what are you into again? Those sappy romance flicks?”
“Whatever you want to watch, it’s your milestone we’re celebrating. I’m not the one picking.” 
“Geez, you know how hard it is for me to decide things like that! But, i’ll do it. Oh! Before I forget, could you stop by the store on your way and get some Cajun seasoning? It’s for the meal!” 
“Of course. I’ll see you soon.” You had told her, before hanging up. Eyes moving to the clock, you realized you two hours before needing to arrive. Which meant you had to get moving on those dishes and errands. 
It didn’t take long before you were out the door. Wearing a nice outfit and new shoes, you strolled down the street. The digital map on your phone guiding you across the city as you moved.
Being so close to the city center, you didn’t have a personal vehicle. Instead, you took public transport all the way past the Entertainment District, your eyes gazing up at the rather tall VoxTek building as the bus sped by. 
You didn’t know much about the Vees, other than they were very powerful Overlords with a lot of influence in the media industry. In fact, you didn’t know much about Overlords at all. Were they nasty demons? They must be, if they bartered in souls.
But there had to be better ones, right? You knew of the cannibal, Rosie, and despite her, well.. dietary choices, she seemed to be a rather motherly and courteous demon. In such a way that the residents of Cannibal Town held very high regards for her, which proved her ability to lead in a just manner. She couldn’t be the only one with a more ethical moral code.
Your mind lingered on that train of thought, before you were pulled back into reality by the bus driver’s call for your stop. Quickly, you had hurried out of the vehicle, before continuing your directed path forward.
You arrived at the large storefront, a cozy cottage-like building that whispered of deliciousness as the scents of spices and other meal-making goods wafted through the open door. 
Taking a step inside, you quickly darted through the aisles, searching for the Cajun seasoning. What was your friend making tonight? You weren’t too familiar with these kinds of ingredients. Hopefully, it was going to be tasty.
When you found it, you turned it in your hands, inspecting the product. Yep, you’ve never seen this before in your life. 
After paying for the item, you quickly departed. Your next destination set on your phone.. but not for long.
Just a few more blocks, and you’d have been welcomed by the two love-birds with open arms. A nice, hot meal and a good movie to finish the night. 
Except, how were you supposed to get there now?!
Your phone was useless, and the digital displays around you showed nothing but advertisements and the latest news. 
Frantically, you looked around for any familiar landmarks, hoping to rely on your memory to guide you. But the streets of Pentagram City, with their twisting alleys and repetitive buildings, all looked eerily similar in the dimming red light of dusk.
Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you tried to recall the route from memory. Pete Avenue, right after the stoplight, then… was it a left or a right at the next intersection? You berated yourself for not doing a better job at memorizing the way before you left.
Turning, you raised a fist at the VoxTek HQ building, cursing them for your suffering. Stupid technology and their shitty battery life.
Slowly, you started walking again. Past the neon signs beckoning you to take a glance at what they had to offer, past the girls on the corner who were calling out to you to come have a ‘good time’.
Sometimes, you wished you had someone else to lend a hand at times like these. But, your heart and your home were unimaginably lonely when it came to a romantic partner. It was something that others around you couldn’t stop pestering you about.
“You really need to get out more,” another friend of yours had said one day, while you two dined at a cafe, “there’s this new dating app, called ‘Ozzie’s Love Link’. Everybody is buzzing about it. You should totally give it a whirl!” 
You had rolled your eyes at her suggestion, a dating app? Those things were practically a fraud. The demons on there either wanted sex, or their idea of a relationship was twisted and foul. You even had heard stories of people playing into sick traps of the perfect first meet, only to be murdered and left in an alley to rot.
“I want something real, not some.. temporary escape. Have you ever met anyone that’s actually found ‘The One’ through one of those things? And, who knows, maybe the demon of my dreams will just walk right into me one day.” 
She had laughed at your words, holding a hand to her mouth to contain her giggles.
“Oh, you. You’re still hanging on to those silly stories of a Prince Charming, hm? C’mon now, this is the real world. Nobody is going to swoop in and save you, and then fall hopelessly in love with you. That's a fairy tale. You need to put in the effort.”
You shrugged. Maybe, she was right. Maybe, those stories you had digested were just fairy tales, meant to enrapture you with promises of the perfect life. You were in Hell, after all.
‘She just doesn’t understand,’ you reminded yourself, ‘all her relationships have been toxic. She doesn’t know any better.’
You weren’t going to let her judgments get to you, you could live your life however you wanted, with whatever dreams you chose.
As you walked down the bustling streets, you couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. It was as if unseen eyes followed your every move, sending shivers down your spine. 
‘Stop freaking out,’ you told yourself, ‘it’s just your imagination, there’s people all around you. They have their own lives, they’re not watching you.’
Nearing the curb to an intersection, you glanced up at the street sign. Pete Avenue, finally. Now, think. Left? 
Looking left, you peer down the rows of strip clubs and bars. The crowds only got bigger from there, and there seemed to be no residential streets. You turned your head to the right, and it began to branch out into more domesticated buildings and neighborhoods. The farther your gaze traveled, the quieter the sidewalks became.
So, right it is. 
You turned the corner of the block and kept moving, your pace quickening as you checked a large digital clock on the side of a building. It was getting closer to the time you had promised to be there.
But, now where were you supposed to go? You turned your head, until your gaze landed on a small imp standing near an alley, a cigarette between his lips. 
Walking forward, you raised your hand up in greeting. “Excuse me, do you know where Magdalene Drive is, by any chance? I’ve just gotten a little turned around and would greatly appreciate some guidance.” 
The imp regarded you for a moment, his eyes squinted in thought. He pulled the cigarette from his lips, and exhaled a large breath. A plume of gray smoke vented from his lips, and he coughed harshly.
“Yeah, I do. You see that big statue over there?” He pointed to your left, the cigarette hanging between his fingers.
Turning your head, you leaned slightly backwards. Off in the distance, a large marble statue depicting an unknown owl demon practically glowed against the darker backdrop. It seemed to hold resemblance to an Ars Goetia family member, but you couldn’t put a finger on who. 
“Right when you pass it, take a left. Go two blocks straight, then take another left. One more block, and another right, and you’re on Magdalene Drive.” 
Jeez, that was a lot of directions thrown at you in one sitting. Not wanting to pester the man any further, you waved a thanks and walked away.
How far have you come, exactly? You turned your head behind you, looking down the sidewalk of where you had just come from. Something flickered in your peripheral vision, a dark figure skirting from your gaze. Was someone watching you? 
You shook your head. No, it’s just your imagination. Keep moving.
Slowly, you turned back and started walking. The sidewalks were practically empty now, the glow from the street lamps above you illuminating your path as you strolled up the large statue. 
Twisting your head to get a better look at it, your gaze skimmed across the royal figure. The owl-demon was staring up at the sky, one arm raised with what seemed to be a ball of energy in his grasp. Swirls of gold marble laced the pearly white sphere. He was holding up, like it was an offering to Heaven. 
Maybe, you’d come back later and take a look at the plaque below the statue. There had to be some significance, although you didn’t see yourself as a master of the fine-arts to te-
Crunch
What was that? That sounded like someone crushing a twig beneath their feet. You twisted to face behind you, and saw nothing once more. 
‘Alright, this is getting a little freaky.’
You weren’t going to stop now though, you didn’t want any potential onlookers seeing you stalking the perimeter like a weirdo simply because your paranoia was having you hallucinate things.
Keeping your pace, you took a sharp left on the corner and continued down. How many blocks did that guy say? Two, if you could recall correctly.
That’s how many blocks you traveled, before stopping in your tracks. Which way did he say to go? Right? Left? 
You rubbed your face with a hand, why did you suck so badly with directions?! If only you had charged your phone before you left, you wouldn’t be in this predicament. 
Turning your head, you tried to figure out which way could be the correct one. There was nothing, though. It didn’t remind you of anything you’d seen when you had driven past her house. 
“Hey, you lost?” A gravelly voice came from behind you. Eyes widened, you spun on your heel to face the stranger. He was tall, much taller than you. He sported scars running across his face, one eye half-lidded permanently from some kind of nasty wound. 
He sported a dark leather jacket, with a thin sweater underneath. His hoodie was up, masking most of his features like a shadow. His skin was a dark red, and his eyes were a pale yellow. He seemed to be a Succubus demon, being too large for an imp.
There was no kindness in his tone or in his smile. Your brain screamed danger, you needed to get away from him. Quickly, you shook your head, trying to give him a well-meaning smile. 
“No, i’m not! I’m just uhh- waiting for someone, they’ll be here soon anyway.” 
“People that aren’t lost usually don’t ask strangers on the street for directions,” he chuckled darkly, “why don’t you tell me where you’re trying to go? I can give you a lift.” 
As he closed in, you could smell the bitter taste of alcohol on his breath. You had to steel yourself not to recoil at his looming figure. Widening your smile, you attempted to not display any fear as he got closer.
“No, thank you. I would hate to bother you, my.. partner should be here soon, so you can continue on with your day!” 
“Don’t you know this place ain’t safe for sweet dolls like you to be roaming alone? C’mon, let me take you to where i’m parked, i’m sure you’ll enjoy my company.”
You quickly stepped backwards, trying to widen the distance from this creep. It wasn’t until your back hit the wall of an abandoned storefront, did you realize you were trapped. 
“I said no. I’m not some damsel in distress. Now, if you can excuse me, I need to keep going before it gets too late.” 
You turned away from him, trying to break any kind of contact with the demon. Maybe if you kept your cool, he’d abandon his little mission.
That was until you felt his hand snake around your wrist, his grip tightening and pulling you to face him. In your state of shock, you dropped the bag containing the Cajun seasoning. You tried to tug your wrist free, but his yellow nails were practically digging into your skin, preventing your escape.
“What’s the rush, Doll? Scared i’m gonna bite or something? Don’t worry, I ain’t gonna harm you. I just want to show you a good time.”
Your eyes narrowed, gaze heated at the stranger. You frowned, glimpsing at his hand on your wrist in disgust.
“What are you doing? I don’t want anything to do with you, now let go of m-!” 
“There you are, my dear!” A masculine voice exclaimed next to you. You felt the creep’s grip on your wrist loosen suddenly. His hand yanked away by another, and your gaze traced the light touch of unknown dark-red fingers gently taking your hand instead.
You snapped your head to the unfamiliar voice, taking in the sight of a second demon standing right besides you, a large grin on his face. He was tall, and he stood a little bit higher than the creep in front of you. His hair was styled in a cropped, angled bob, with an odd pinkish-red shade. Two small antlers protruded from the top of his head, and were those.. ears next to them too?
He was dressed rather formally, with a red pin-stripe coat adorned with a large black bow-tie. Over his right eye, you took note of the small oval-shaped monocle. He held a cane, with an odd looking end. The small oval in the center of it reminded you of an eye. He looked very dapper, like he was from a much older era. 
His gaze was soft, as he looked at you. It wasn’t until his eyes snapped to the stranger in front did they take on a cold, dark glare. That smile never faltered, though. 
Who was this guy? Why was he touching you? You felt the need to tear your hand from his grip as well.
Except, when he turned back to you, his eyes sent you a hidden message. Something like, ‘Go along with it, if you want to get rid of him.’
Seeing as you were stuck between two strange demons, with no idea what this new guy had in store for you, maybe it was a good idea to follow his silent command. Your hand went limp in his grip, and the deer demon raised it to his chest, patting it lovingly.
“Goodness, I leave for ten minutes to go pick up your favorite herbal tea and poof, gone! You are a slippery one, my sweet.” Static dripped from his voice, seemingly connected to the cane at his side. Was it some kind of microphone?
“Who are you?” The stalker questioned, backing up a step as he regarded the new face.
The red demon laughed, an audible ‘ha ha’, as if the creep just told a rather good joke. He extended his free hand in greeting, and the succubus only eyed the gesture with suspicion.
“The name is Alastor! Pleasure to be meeting you, sir, quite a pleasure. It’s rare for people these days to not recognize my face, although i’m sure it’ll become familiar soon enough.” 
That ‘soon enough’ sounded quite ominous to you. And, was he some kind of celebrity or something? You didn’t remember him from anywhere. 
“Well, do you mind? Me and the lady were in the middle of a conversation.” The succubus retorted, a slight growl in his tone. 
“The better question is, do you mind, my good sir! Here I am, searching for my dear wife, only to see you bothering her on the corner!” 
Wait a second, did this guy just call you his wife? You stood there, shocked, as you listened to the two bicker. Never would you think you’d hear that uttered from a man. 
“Not only that, but touching her without her consent? My word, what degenerate behavior!” The demon, Alastor, continued. He shook his head in disapproval, an audible tsk-tsk coming from his lips.
“There was no harm in it, we were only having some fun. Ain’t that right, Doll?” The stalker turned to you, fire in his gaze as if daring you to speak.
You shook your head, your gaze snapping to Alastor. He watched you for a moment, before turning his attention back to the succubus.
“It seems your mother neglected to instill in you even a modicum of respect. If my wife weren’t here to witness, I'd be more than obligated to educate you on proper decorum.”
Something flickered in the creep’s eyes, and for a moment he looked almost afraid. After a moment, He sneered, eyeing you up and down. "I don't see a ring on her finger."
Alastor smirked, and gently lifted your hand forward for the demon to get a look at. His grin was that of triumph, as though he was showcasing a prized possession. 
Your eyes widened at the sight, a gasp almost escaping your lips. On your finger, was a small gold ring. It was snuggled nicely around your digit, a perfect fit. 
The Succubus leaned in, and so did you. Where the hell did that come from? That was not there a few minutes ago! 
On closer inspection, you noticed something about the small band. Engraved in a tiny rose-gold font, was a single letter.
A.
"There, now do you see?" Alastor's grin widened, his demeanor playful yet menacing. His eyes narrowed, as he waited for the demon's response. You felt the air crackle with some kind of energy, it was dark and cold. The hair on the back of your neck began to stand on its end, like static. Which one of the demons was doing that?
The stalker’s expression shifted from arrogance to confusion, then to frustration. He furrowed his brow, studying the ring intently as if searching for some kind of flaw.
Was he going to try and argue? The proof was there, albeit fabricated. Alastor dropped your hand, and instead snaked his arm around yours, locking you in place. 
There was no argument didn’t, instead, the succubus took another step back. The demon straightened himself and shrugged, like the scene before him was not a bother, like his filthy plan wasn’t thwarted by the appearance of the powerful deer man. 
“Whatever, I ain’t got time for this anyway. Enjoy the rest of your evening, Lovebirds.”
As the man turned away, Alastor’s grin widened as he nodded his head. “Farewell, and may your endeavors be as futile as your manners!”
He turned to you, that dark look gone from his eyes as he gently tugged at your arm, still laced with his. “Now, my dear, shall we continue on our evening stroll?” 
You nodded slowly, and together, the two of you turned away from the creep and began to walk. You had only made it a few steps before you heard the soft knocking of Alastor’s staff hitting the cement walkway. What was he doing?
Behind you, a strangled cry filled the silence, before a loud thump hit your ears. You jolted at the sound, did something just happen? It sounded like someone got hurt! 
Right as you were about to turn your head to look at where the noises had emanated from, Alastor’s head snapped to you and you felt another gentle tug on your arm to turn your attention back to him.
You looked up at him, a smile forming on your lips as your nerves settled. “Thank you, for saving me, kind sir. I could have been a goner.” 
“It was no trouble at all my dear, and please, call me Alastor. I was simply in the neighborhood and couldn’t just stand by and let that rapscallion manhandle you like that! Now, where are we off to, if I might ask?” 
“Oh, well, Magdalene Drive! It’s a house right at the end of a street, my friend's place actually. She’s expecting me for dinner, that’s why I have this bag of…”
You became suddenly aware of the empty feeling in your hand. Did you forget to pick up the seasoning after you dropped it?! You groaned internally, your head hung in defeat. After all that, you didn’t have the one item you had taken this route to get. 
Alastor raised an eyebrow at your reaction, and you quickly explained, “I needed to get Cajun seasoning for the meal they are making, but I dropped it when that.. man was harassing me! I’m terribly sorry, I have to go back and get it.” 
Alastor only smiled, as usual, and shook his head. He waved his hand in a sweeping motion, brushing off your attempt to turn around.
“Nonsense! We don’t need to bother that poor soul any longer. Here, let me give you one from my personal collection!” 
He lifted his free hand, and snapped his fingers. In a flicker of green light, a small spice jar landed in his palm. Your eyes widened, an amused smile gracing your lips as you watched the little trick. That was pretty cool. Was that the same kind of magic he used to secretly place the ring on your finger? 
“Here you are! The best Cajun seasoning you can find in Pentagram City, my personal favorite. I was going to use it for something special, but it seems you are in need of it more than I.”
He lifted his hand toward you, and you took it gratefully. Lifting it to your nose, you inhaled deeply. It was an odd scent, one you couldn’t quite place, but it smelled quite delicious.
“Not many dishes require such flavoring, what is the meal you are having tonight?”
You shrugged, “I'm not really sure, to be honest. She didn’t say.” 
“Hm, a pity. Have you ever tried Jambalaya? It is a rather magnificent dish, my personal favorite actually! My mother was quite the cook, indeed, and her craft would never miss when producing such delicacies.”
“No, I've never tried it before. What does it taste like?”
“It is hard to put a description on it. It’s almost like.. fireworkings popping off in your mouth! Ha ha, that is a good way to put it. You really must try it sometime.” 
You smiled at Alastor as you listened to his words. Perhaps, you would.
“What got you into this pickle, anyway? Surely you didn’t actually feel like taking a stroll so late in the evening, hm?” He questioned as the two of you continued your pace, “a pretty face like yours will cause quite the stir amongst the filthy rats that like to inhabit this place.”
“Oh, well, I was using my phone for directions. It died on the way here, unfortunately I'm not familiar with this area and couldn’t find my way forward.”
His words finally processed in your brain. Did he just call you pretty? You didn’t get to think about that for much longer as his static-laced voice filled the air once more.
“Ah, of course. This new.. modern technology is nothing short of a fraud, if I do say. What ever happened to the old fashioned paper map? If it were up to me, we wouldn’t be so reliant on such faulty equipment.”
“Is that what your staff is? It looks like a microphone.” You said, pointing to the cane in his other hand.
Alastor glanced down to his cane, and then back to you. “Aha, a clever one indeed! Yes, my dear, I use it for my radio broadcasts!”
You perked at that. Radio? You had one of your own at home. Although it was quite dusty, you did occasionally turn it on to see what latest hits were circling around in the music industry.
“You do radio? That’s actually kind of interesting! Do you have a big audience?”
“Yes, indeed! Back when I was at my highest with it, I had many listeners. Unfortunately, my absence from Pentagram City has led to other forms taking the spotlight. I plan on rectifying that once I've settled in. Perhaps, you could listen in as well to see what I have to offer?”
You nodded at that, perhaps, you would listen in. He had a nice, pleasant voice. It felt like you could sit there for hours and just listen to him speak. Even if the words that came from his mouth was nothing but gibberish, you’d still let his voice drown out your thoughts.
“What about you?” The static dripping from his voice causes you to turn your head, “what do you do for a living?” 
“Oh, well, I work at a men’s formalwear store. So, like tuxedos, dress shirts, and all that jazz. I help assist with fittings and greet guests, basically the doorgirl. Nothing too important.” 
His ears perked slightly as he listened, and he turned his head to you. “Well, isn’t that interesting! Just recently, I had an awfully rude encounter with another demon, who had torn a piece of my suit. That slippery little serpent got away before I could.. question him about his antics.” 
“That’s awful! Who was it?” 
Alastor chuckled, rolling his eyes as he recalled the event. “Oh, nobody of importance, I assure you. Just some pretentious upstart fancying himself as an Overlord, with a knack for building rather ghastly creations of destruction. Since that encounter, I've been in the market for a fresh look. If a place of formal employs such splendid characters like you, I think it would be in my best interest to take a look in your establishment for a new coat”
Your eyes widened, he wanted to buy a new suit at your work because.. you were there? How charming.
Taking another glance at him, you realized he was rather good-looking. His red hair popped out against his much paler skin, it shined against the streetlights above. It looked rather silky and smooth, like you could comb them with your fingers and not find a single knot. 
And those ears? They were pretty cute, actually. They stuck up from his head, and every so often they would twitch or shrivel in the direction of sudden noises. They seemed so soft too, would they feel as good as they looked if you were to squish them between your fingers?
He was a well-mannered gentleman, a pretty rare specimen in Hell. Not only that, but he stepped in to defend you from that creep when he could have simply walked by. He didn’t, and that made your cheeks heat up. Especially with the fact he called you his wife, instead of something simpler like ‘friend’.
What about when he called you pretty? Did he actually mean that? You never regarded yourself as such, but if Alastor thought that, maybe you cou-
“Is this the house?” Alastor’s words pulled you back into reality. You blinked, before looking up at the pale blue cottage snuggled nicely between two large Victorian homes. The talks you were having must have kept you from noticing the large distance.
“Yes! This is the place!” You exclaimed happily, finally, you were here. You turned to him, before looking down at your arm, still laced with his. Slowly, you pulled your arm free. The cold that replaced his touch was unwelcomed. Which felt odd to you, why did you want him touching you still? 
You had only just met him, but perhaps his way of speaking and heroics swooned you enough to miss the warmth of his grasp. Lifting your head to meet his gaze, you tried to see what he was thinking behind that constant smile. 
His eyes were unreadable, but the cold stare he had given the succubus, and to the other onlookers that you had occasionally passed was missing as he looked at you. There seemed to be a smile in his eyes, one that was meaningful and true.
“Well, I'm glad I could assist you in finding your way home, my dear. I quite enjoyed our chat, it is refreshing to hear from a new face once in a while. Especially one as eloquent as yours.”
You had to keep yourself from visibly blushing. He really was a gentleman in all regards. You bowed your head respectfully, before meeting his gaze again.
“The only reason why I'm here is because of you, Alastor. Thank you, and I do hope to run into you in the future. Our conversation was very interesting, I'd love to hear more of it sometime.”
He tilted his head at you, as he regarded your words. “Indeed, perhaps we will. Maybe, the next time we cross paths, I can give you a glimpse into my mothers recipe of Jambalaya. I’m sure your friend would be interested in trying something new the next time you sit down for dinner.”
You smiled at him, before waving goodbye. Turning towards the door you lightly rapped your knuckles against its wooden frame. It was then that you realized you never properly introduce yourself.
“Oh! I’m sorry, I never got to tell you, my name is-”
The words halted in your mouth, as you found the space in front of you empty. Alastor had vanished, not a single trace of his presence remained.
He was gone already? Damn, that guy moved quickly. Maybe, he was just a hallucination, a dream too good to be true. You stood there for a moment, before closing your mouth in thought.
Suddenly, the front door was flung open and a hand reached out and grasped your top. You turned your head just as you were yanked inside. Before you had time to blink, the door was slammed shut behind you. The window near it was shielded by curtains in seconds.
In front of you, your friend stood there. She was breathing heavily, a hand to her heart as if she just witnessed the scariest thing in her life. She quickly held your shoulders, scanning your body for any injuries.
“Oh my gosh! You’re lucky I pulled you in here quickly,” She exhaled a breath to calm her nerves, “You could have been that guy’s next meal!” 
“What are you talking about?” You asked, an eyebrow raised at her strange demeanor.
“Alastor! The Radio Demon! Y’know, the guy that murdered all those overlords years ago?” 
You raised an eyebrow as her words settled in your head. That demon was the Radio Demon? No way! He was such a gentleman, and rather pleasant too! 
“You’re kidding.” 
“I’m not! I don’t know what happened between the two of you, hopefully not a deal, but you need to stay away from him. He’s nothing but a bad omen!” 
You smiled, shaking your head at her antics. She was just being silly, Alastor saved you from potentially being kidnapped. You doubted he’d lay a finger on you in a harmful manner.
“Well, I brought that seasoning. Why don’t we go take a tour of the place, hm?” You said, pulling her away from the doorway and down the hall.
She nodded, her face lighting up instantly. “Yes, a great idea! I can’t wait to show you the kitchen, we replaced practically everything. The flooring is a beautiful marble tile and…“
She trailed off as her gaze shot to your hand, her eyes widening at the sight. Quickly, she grasped it, and pulled it closer to inspect it. You tensed, what was she doing?
“..what is that on your finger? I didn’t know you wore this kind of jewelry!” 
Following her gaze, you turned your hand slightly to see what she was so enthralled about, and your eyebrows raised in surprise at the sight.
Still perfectly snug on your finger, was that gold ring Alastor had magically placed on you. You assumed that it would have dissolved or vanished when he left, but that small A still glimmered in the overhead light.
“I’ll explain it over dinner.” You simply replied, pulling your hand out of her grip and beginning to walk further into the house. 
Your eyes kept landing on the golden band, though. Alastor not far from your mind as you listened to your friend fill you in on all the renovations. It was quite pretty, and it seemed to look great on you. For a moment, a rather odd thought crossed your mind, causing your cheeks to heat as you lamented over it. 
Would it be so bad if you just.. kept it on? 
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
woah, first fic of Alastor! I thought he’d be the perfect guy for this scenario. i wrote the reader as sort of a hopeless romantic bc it’s the complete opposite of al and i thought it was funny
EDIT: Part 2 is coming!!
lmk what you think! :)
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golden-cherry · 5 months
Text
deal - cl16 (19/?)
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader
Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.
Chapter Summary: There's so much going on in Charles' brain, but having to come clean with his feelings is the hardest.
Warnings: 18+ (mentions of fingering, masturbating), angst, swear words, Lando being a little shit
Word Count: 3.4k
series masterlist
previous part
A/N: sorry. and happy season finale. let’s hope for a better 2024.
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Charles has never been so happy about a pot of plants. 
After you slammed the door in his face, he barely made it to the street before throwing up in the nearest plant pot. His fingers clawed around the hard ceramic edges as his body struggled against the nasty words he spat at you. 
He doesn't even know why he was so mean to you. 
Was it because you had a wonderful evening last night? Because you two got so close that you both almost kissed? Because you fell asleep next to each other and he slept incredibly well? Or because Lando texted him in the middle of the night and asked what your favorite food was so that he could do everything right on your date?
Maybe he does know why he was so mean to you. 
"Charles? Concentrate, please," he is snapped out of his thoughts and Charles sits up a little straighter in his chair. He can feel something crack in his spine.
The meeting has been going on for hours. So long, in fact, that the private chefs in Maranello have already had to bring food to the room four times, with the last meal being dinner. Charles has eaten so much pasta and bruschetta that he feels sick just looking at the leftovers on the table in front of him. And the water with the slice of lemon in the glass in front of him no longer tastes very refreshing.
No matter what he eats or drinks, he can't get rid of the disgusting taste in his mouth. 
He wonders if your "I hate you" is as heavy on your stomach as the nasty words are on his. He would love to take back everything he spat in your face. Turn back time and undo everything. But he can't do that. Unfortunately. 
He'd love to bang his head on the tabletop. 
In fact, he can barely remember what he said. It's as if his brain short circuited, has had some kind of blackout, or as if a bomb has gone off and wiped everything out. Which doesn't excuse any of it. But from your hurt look, the tears in your eyes and your venomous response, it was so unacceptable that he'd like to slap himself for it. 
It wasn't the first time Lando had asked Charles for dating help and they are actually such good friends that Charles has always been happy to help him. But the fact that the Brit asked for help so that he could take you out nicely - that doesn't sit right with him. Which is complete nonsense, because he has no reason to. He has no claim of ownership over you. And besides, he didn't want to kiss you in the bookstore. 
Although that's not entirely true either.
He did want to kiss you. Desperately. And you'd been so close all day, you'd shown him your favorite place and everything had pointed to you wanting to make the move to something more - and then you gave him that look when he asked you for a dance. And he can understand why you didn't want to. After all, it's your place, your favorite place, and never would Charles do anything to tarnish that place in any way. Create a memory that you would later regret. 
The Petit Mondes is your safe haven. And as much as Charles wants you - and he definitely does - he wouldn't cross that line.
Since you've known each other, Charles has had to fight every waking - and to be honest, every sleeping - moment not to jump you. He can't stop thinking about you standing in front of him half-naked in a towel. Or how you turned around just a few steps away from him before dinner with his friends to show him your outfit. How you slept next to him and dreamt - dreamt of him. A moment he will never forget. 
Although he is actually a late riser, Charles woke up early that morning. Not because he had slept in, but because he was warm. Contrary to his expectations, it wasn't because of the comforter or the heating, but because you were lying half on top of him. Your head was resting against his shirt-clad chest, one of your legs was draped over his hip, while your arm was wrapped around his middle. 
At first, he didn't understand what was going on at all. He wanted to lift his arm to rub the sleep from his eyes, but he was met with resistance in the form of a lightly clad, sleeping beauty. His arm was wrapped around your waist, his hand was a little too high on your ribs to pass for being friendly, and by God - he hadn't felt this comfortable in ages.
Feeling your closeness had triggered something in him that confused him, but at the same time made him incredibly relaxed. He had pulled you closer to him, pressed you against him and enjoyed your warmth. For a moment, he had even considered whether he should just pull you all over him so that he could be as close to you as possible. 
Before he could think about how wrong that would be and how many boundaries he would be crossing, you had turned in his arms so that your back was against his chest. Your body molded perfectly against his, your warmth engulfing him, but nothing could have prepared him for the fact that you were going to move your butt a little in his direction, right up against his crotch. 
Charles had been awake in a flash and while you continued to sleep soundly, all the blood from his brain had rushed to his dick. Embarrassed, he'd squinted and focused on something else - Ferrari strategies, Joris last Christmas with the Leclercs, anything - and had scooted back a few inches to stick his hand down his pants so he could fix his raging boner.
But alas, you'd followed him like a magnet, squirming against him like you knew exactly what you were doing, so that his cock was wedged between your ass cheeks. Your body had been so warm, so soft against his hard one, that he had to stifle a moan.
Something you hadn't been able to do. If you hadn't been so close to him, he would have missed your soft gasp of his name. That's when he blew a fuse.
He would have loved to wake you up with kisses along your neck, let his fingers wander slowly over your skin until they finally disappeared into your panties. He would have let them glide through your folds and collect your wetness before gently rubbing your bundle of nerves. You would have turned to him and moaned into his mouth as he slid one of his fingers into your tight walls.
He'd never escaped his bedroom so quickly and quietly and jumped into the freezing cold shower.
The water felt like fine pinpricks as it splashed down on his burning hot skin, but no matter how cold he turned it on - his cock stood angry and proud. He put his head back in despair, his brain vehemently refusing to see his friend in this light, to desire you like this. But before he could do anything about it, his fingers had wrapped themselves around his aching cock. His imagination ran away with him, too many images popped up in his mind's eye as he squeezed it twice in the hope of relieving some tension. But the only thing it triggered was the feeling of a moment ago, when his cock was against your ass. 
He was almost ashamed of how quickly he came. 
He just hoped you didn't notice when he came back into the bedroom and woke you up with it. He had thought about lying back next to you, but had decided on the foot of the bed to create some distance. 
The fact that you were dreaming about him threw him off course. And he'd really wanted to kiss you - by God, he'd wanted to do even kinkier things to you - but the timing never seemed right. 
And then Lando's message came.
The vibration in his pocket brings him back to the present. Charles takes a quick look around to make sure he's not the center of the conversation, then glances at his phone. 
Lando: You need to come home now.
He looks at the screen, confused. Why the hell is Lando texting him? Lando of all people? Did you tell him all the things Charles threw at you? How badly he treated you? 
Charles: I'm in Maranello. 
If you really did confide in Lando, his answer sounds pathetic. Why else would Lando text him? His friend certainly knows that Charles screwed up. And also that you want to move out of the apartment. But does the Brit really believe that Charles could change your mind when he's the reason you're moving out?
Lando's answer comes immediately.
Lando: I don't care. Get your ass over here. 
The Monegasque turns on the keypad lock on his cell phone and places it on the table in front of him. It wouldn't make any difference if he went home now and tried to change your mind. What could happen is that his presence would only strengthen your decision to move out. Besides, he doesn't know how he's ever going to face you again. 
Before he can think about it, his cell phone starts ringing. The eyes of his co-workers land on him and he apologizes with a quiet "mi dispiace" before leaving the meeting, phone in hand. Out in the corridor, he doesn't even need to look at the screen to know who is calling. 
"If you don't go back to Monaco immediately, I'll come to Italy myself to get you," Lando snaps at him and Charles has to hold the receiver away from his ear to stop his eardrums from bursting.
"Hi, Lando."
"Don't give me 'Hi, Lando'. Get your fucking ass over here."
Charles rubs his forehead before running his whole hand over his face. "I can't just leave here."
"Don't talk shit like that. We both know you're not up for the meeting," the Brit replies bitchily. "Don't act like you don't have a choice."
The Monegasque rolls his eyes. "What do you want to hear from me now, Lando?"
The answer comes like a shot from a gun. "I want to know what you've been up to! Are you completely stupid?"
Charles would like to know the answer too.
"You go home right now, explain your shitty behaviour and apologize."
"And you're interfering because...?" His tone is cold. 
"Because I was in your apartment all evening and had to watch how devastated Y/N was. I'd love to kill you for it."
"Go ahead and do it. She sure as hell wouldn't mind."
He swears he hears Lando take a deep breath on the other end of the line. 
"I'm going to tell you this once. Just once, Charles. And I'm saying this for her sake, because I still have hope that you're the person I was praising to her."
Praising? If you've told Lando everything, then you've certainly told Charles everything about the Brit. That he just wants to get you into bed. So why would Lando want to help him?
"What you did was absolute bullshit, Charles. Totally below the belt and you've never acted as fucking shit as you just did."
Charles rolls his eyes. "Is there anything positive coming?"
"Shut up, you idiot. I don't know what you've done in the few days you've known each other to make her so crazy about you, but I don't have to. Any blind man can see there's something between you. Something good. So go home now and save what can be saved before she really decides to leave the country."
Charles, who had just been leaning against the wall, stands up straight. "The country? I thought she just wanted to move out."
"She's been thinking about it, asshole. United States, Australia. Something really far away from you."
"But she has her job here, at that one magazine. There's no way she'd leave like that."
"She got fired, motherfucker. Before you made your weird deal. Nothing's keeping her here anymore. So get your ass over here now before she really decides to take off."
How could Charles be so blind? He knows the magazine, his mom reads it occasionally and he actually knows that a new issue comes out every week. You've known each other for five days - five days that you've spent entirely with him. Something that would definitely not be possible with such a full-time job. 
"And what do you want from me now? That I drop everything to go home even though she doesn't want to see me?"
"I've never seen anyone as stupid as you."
"Can you stop with the insults?" Charles snaps through the phone. 
"You have nothing to say to me, you arsehole. She told me what you said about me. You owe it to us to go off and try to make things right." 
Charles can't help but laugh. "Us? So you two are already an us?" He doesn't know why he's talking to one of his closest friends like this. Especially when the latter only wants to help put things right that Charles has messed up. The Monegasque has no reason to be angry. But the disgusting taste in his mouth, which he hasn't been able to get rid of for hours, is not anger. Unfortunately, he only realizes it now.
He's fucking jealous. And he can't do anything about it.
"We're friends, but apparently you don't know what the word stands for," Lando replies snippily. "Go home, explain to her why you behaved so badly and apologize to her." His voice softens, warmer than it has been throughout the phone call. "Charles, I know you're being careful because you're afraid of getting hurt again. And I can understand that, I really can." He takes a deep breath. "But it's Y/N we're talking about here. Sit down and talk to each other, be honest, and then it'll all work out."
Charles' gaze wanders to the huge Ferrari logo hanging on the wall next to him and his bad guilt returns. You don't even know who he is. To you, he's Charles, the roommate who shows you beautiful places, introduces you to his friends and with whom you share a bed. You are the only person who knows him as Charles and not as Charles Leclerc.
What would you think of him if the cat was out of the bag? When you see who he really is, including the spotlight? What happens if you like Charles, but not Charles Leclerc? He doesn't know if he could handle it. His job is his life, he's on the road all year round and what little time he has he has to divide between friends and family. 
That's why his relationship with Annika failed. She was right about what she threw at him. That you always have to wait for him and that it's not fair. And she knew what she was getting into from the start. But you don't. You would be thrown in at the deep end if you decided to go for it. If you chose him.
"I don't think it's that easy," Charles says quietly, and he has to suppress the tremor in his voice. "She - she doesn't deserve this life. This risk. She - she," he takes a deep breath and has to wipe away the tear running down his cheek. "She's too good for me. She deserves someone great."
"How strange," Lando replies. "That's exactly what she says about you. So get in the car and apologize. I'm sure you'll be able to sort it out. And if you say shit like that about me again, I'll drive you into the wall in Bahrain next year."
Charles curls his mouth into a thin smile. "I'm truly sorry, Lando. And thank you for everything."
"I'm just absolutely the best." Charles can almost hear his grin before the Brit hangs up.
When the Monegasque re-enters the meeting room, all eyes are on him. With deliberate steps, he walks to his chair and grabs his jacket before looking at his team boss. "I'm going home."
His boss crosses his arms in front of his chest. "You can't just leave like that, Charles. We need to talk about next season and everything that's gone wrong this year."
"I can tell you exactly what happened," the brunette replies as he zips up his jacket. "The strategies this year were all for the trash, you screwed me over and you cost me the title." He grabs his wallet and car keys from the table in front of him. "Make sure things go better next year. After all, it doesn't get any shittier than this. See you next year. Have a good holiday."
He knows that his Ferrari can drive fast. And he also knows that he shouldn't drive that fast. But the roads home are empty and he wants to get to you as quickly as possible, in the hope that you haven't left the apartment yet. The accelerator pedal is almost stuck to the floor and he would certainly have to pay a heavy fine if the police caught him speeding. But apparently luck is on his side and it takes him just over three hours to turn onto the streets of Monaco.
The closer he gets to your apartment, the faster his heart beats and he can feel himself starting to sweat. What's the best way to start the apology?
I'm sorry I was so shitty to you, but it was because -
I behaved like crap, but it was only because - 
I'm sorry I was such a bad friend, but you should have - 
Wow. It actually all sounds like shit. 
Maybe Lando is right. Maybe the most reasonable thing would be for Charles to just be honest, even if it means destroying everything between you. But you deserve the truth.
I'm sorry I said those bad things to you and I'm sorry I hurt you. Of course, apologizing can't undo any of it, but if you gave me the chance, I could explain myself to you. I was jealous because we had such a nice evening and then I find out you planned a date with one of my friends. I wanted to kiss you in the bookstore, I've wanted you ever since we met. You've been messing with my head from the beginning, taking over my heart and I can't think straight when you're with me. Maybe it's crazy because we've only known each other for five days, but I've never felt about someone the way I feel about you. I'm in lo-
His train of thought stops abruptly as he turns into the street. A green Nissan is parked on the sidewalk in front of your apartment, the driver's door is open and the hazard lights illuminate the walls of the house. 
Charles worriedly parks at the next opportunity before jumping out of the car and dashing to the front door, which is wide open. He can already hear angry voices from outside, a male voice that almost shouts the whole house awake. 
And your voice, angry and rough and shaky, as if you were at the end of your tether. 
Charles sprints up the few steps to your apartment and stops like a flash on the top step when he sees you. You're wearing your pyjamas, your hair is disheveled, as if you've run your hand through it several times, and when you see him, you snap your eyes open as if you've seen a ghost. 
But it's not the sight of you that makes Charles' blood boil. 
It's Raphael's, who follows your gaze and takes a step back when he realizes who he's facing. "Your roommate is Charles Leclerc?"
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1K notes · View notes
beenbaanbuun · 2 months
Text
meet me in the woods w/ Mingi
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words - 3.5k
genre - fluff, friends to lovers, college!au
warnings - emo!mingi, drummer!mingi, pink!mingi, fangirl!reader, kissing, mentions of seasonal depression, mentions of a broken ankle, reader is down bad, so is mingi, they’re both idiots in love, kind of groping but not really sexual
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there’s still a chill in the air as the seasons flip from winter to spring. it shows in the way the air around you fogs up with every breath you exhale and the way the skin of your exposed thighs pricks up in little bumps. realistically you should’ve worn a pair of jeans rather than a skirt, but that would defeat the point of this whole thing you had going on. a sort of good-riddance-to-winter protest, in which you try to ignore the fact that winter was very much still in play.
although you have to admit you may have been a little too eager. you claim to have your reasons to pretend that winter is already over, but even those reasons seem a little obsolete as you sit on the picnic table awning, shivering every few seconds. perhaps your way of saying goodbye to your particularly bad bout of seasonal depression will have to be shoved to the back of your closet for a few more weeks. just until you're sure you won’t get frostbite.
you shuffle back a few inches, just enough to give yourself room to swing your legs back onto the awning. you have to go down the way you came up; that was a lesson you’d learned the hard way. a broken ankle and a particularly long lecture from your mother about making ‘sensible decisions’ was not something you care to repeat. she, of course, would blow a fuse if she knew you still frequent this spot years later, but what she doesn’t know can’t hurt her. besides, you’re well trained in how to get up and down from your favourite thinking spot, now.
you already have one leg up when you hear a creek coming from behind you. your neck twists in time to see a hand slam itself down on the wooden surface, fingers splayed as they work their hardest to pull the attached body higher up. you recognise the rings like the back of your hand and as you watch mingi struggle, you can’t help but sigh.
“how many times have i told you how to get up here?” you grumble, loud enough for him to hear over his own strained grunts. the single hand that you can see moves until you can see a middle finger pointed in your direction, and you have to laugh, “you seriously can’t remember? right hand on the roof, left foot on the fence, and push yourself up.”
even without seeing his face you can tell he’s rolling his eyes at you. he’s heard this lecture from you a bajillion times before, and yet he never learns. it’s always right hand, right foot and pull with him - almost the exact opposite of how you instruct him.
“have you considered that i’m, like, twice the size of you?” he says as he corrects his form and finally manages to raise himself up. he swings his right knee onto the platform and rolls his gangly form onto it. you’ve seen more grace from a new-born horse, but you keep that to yourself as you watch him sit himself up and shuffle closer.
“if anything that would make it easier for you, y’know, since you don’t have to jump to reach the roof.”
you turn your body back to how it was, dropping your legs again so you can swing them over the ledge. the platform looks out over nothing but forest, and you quickly find a particular branch to focus your eyes on as the giant sits in his spot next to you. your hands subconsciously brush over the pair of initials that have been scratched into the wood when you were both teenagers. a small, neat set done with a whittling knife stolen from your father, sitting just beneath a much larger, much messier SMG that mingi had done with the biggest kitchen knife he could find. his mother never did discover how her carving knife missing for a few hours only to return to the knife block covered in moss and dirt.
“yeah, yeah,” he mutters as he drops his legs down to swing them at the side of yours. your pink sneakers look a little out of place besides his platform doc martin’s that he always wears, despite not needing the extra height, but somehow the contrast feels natural to you, “i thought i’d find you up here. went to your dorm to search for you but your roommate said you were out.”
“and you assumed i was here?” he nods, not bothering to look at you. he too has found a distant branch to focus on.
“where else would you be?” he nudges you with an elbow, “god knows you don’t go to your lectures…”
he’s right about that. you’d given up on college very early into freshman year, and yet you’re somehow still passing. not well, you have to admit, but enough to get a degree at the end of the year.
“my classes suck, mingi,” you clarify as you rip your focus away from that one specific branch. looking at the same thing was getting kind of boring, you realise, so instead you lay down on the dirty wood and stare up at the canopy. the february sun only just pokes through the fir-canopy, dousing you in just enough light to make your skin a little warmer. there was that heat you were hoping for earlier, “why would i go to them when clearly i can pass without?”
“fair point.”
you close your eyes, basking in the light that bathes you. there’s still a slight breeze that makes the fir needles rustle above you, a few of them raining down whenever a particularly strong gust comes along. one lands on your thigh, but it’s quickly brushed off and replaced by mingi’s warm hand. he must’ve been keeping it in the pocket of his oversized korn hoodie, you think to yourself as he squeezes your thigh.
the hoodie is an old favourite of yours. you’d bought it for him a couple of years ago, and it had soon joined what you like to call ‘the elites’ - the small collection of about three hoodies that he had in permanent rotation. it fit him better now than when you first bought it for him. he’d bulked up a lot, after all.
you still couldn’t get the sweet image of him opening the gift with a wide grin on his face out of your head.
he kissed your cheek on that day.
you always seem to blush at the memory.
“why did you come searching for me, anyway?” you say after a few moments of silence. his hand remains firm on your thigh, fingers drumming a rhythm against your leg gently, “don’t you have cooler people to be hanging out with?”
he hums, “all the cool people i know are busy today,” you swing your foot to the side to kick his shin. he lets out a laugh at the little tap - he knows you can kick harder than that - before giving your thigh a gentle tap in return, “besides, maybe i want to hear about all your little kpop groups.”
you scoff at him.
“no, you don’t.”
“no,” mingi agrees, “i don’t. but i do want to spend time with my favourite little fangirl.”
you giggle at him, opening your eyes just in time to see him turn to you with a wonky grin on his face. it seems he’s bored of staring at his branch too since his gaze doesn’t go back to it after a few seconds. it remains on you, boba-pearl pupils staring into your own as the rays of sun make them glisten.
he looks cute like this, you think to yourself. his short pink hair rustles as the wind blows it about. for a man who made so much fuss about the colour when you first dyed it, it has taken him a long time for him to go back to the bleach blonde that he loves so much. part of you likes to think it’s so he can match your own pastel pink hair - that’s a normal thing for best friends to do, right? - but you also know that he’s fiercely protective over his hair and definitely wouldn’t keep it just for your sake.
it needs a trim, you think to yourself as you watch it brush against his eyebrows. you wonder if he’ll let you do it again. he hated it the last time, so you assume the answer will be no. then again, there’s no harm in asking, right? you make a mental note to do so later, wanting nothing more than to see the same cute pout he wore last time you butchered his hair. it’s an expression that he only ever wears around you, much like that sweet smile he’d had moments prior. it’s a softness that he keeps close to his chest, a far cry from the cool exterior he tries to keep when he’s around everyone else. not that you mind the tougher side of him - it’s hot… really hot - but the sweet giggles and adorable nose scrunches will always be your favourite things about him.
“you said everyone else was busy?” you mutter, not bothering to break eye contact to go back to sunbathing. he takes the hint, and brings his legs fully onto the platform so he can face you fully. it’s much better, you think, this way you can see him more clearly, “what are they doing?”
he shrugs.
“i don’t know,” he begins to rub your thigh up and down subconsciously. he does it a lot when he’s talking. if it’s not your thigh - which it usually always is - then it’s his own, or the arm of a chair. it’s just something to keep his hands busy, you suppose, “i think some of the guys wanted to go over melodies, which they don’t need me for. jongho was saying he thinks it’d be cool if there’s a section where his voice and san’s guitar are kind of in sync? i don’t know, it sounds cool in theory but i don’t know if san’s guitar style necessarily matches jongho’s vocal style well enough to do that.”
you watch as his face lights up, just like it always does when he talks about music, or his band. he could talk about their newest ideas for hours, and most of the time you let him. you like to listen to the way his voice rises an octave when he gets excited, and watching his facial expressions never gets old. you love the way he talks with one hand, all while keeping the other firmly on your thigh; or his, or the arm of a chair. it’s nice to see him still so passionate about all the same things he was as a teenager. sometimes you’re even sure you can feel his excitement for him.
it feels an awful lot like butterflies in your stomach.
“and i mean, i know i’m just the drummer but,” you quirk your eyebrow at him and he stops himself talking. a pink flush rises over his face as he realises his slip up, “i didn’t mean just the drummer, i just meant that as the drummer, i don’t know as much about the music theory side as the guitarists do… i hit things, y’know?”
“you hit things very well, though,” you tease, using a manicured finger to poke at his knee. he catches it with the hand that isn’t occupied by your thigh and just holds onto it. its another thing he does a lot; not quite holding your hand, but definitely toeing the line, “and that’s coming from me!”
he rolls his eyes at you, and you were sure that if both his hands weren’t occupied with some other part of your body, he’d make the effort to lean forwards and place a finger over your lips to shush you. again, touching your lips like that it’s just something he does with you, just like almost holding your hands, and playing with your thighs. it’s all completely normal best friend stuff…
except you weren’t this touchy with any other guy. the last time you let a man get this close to you was when wooyoung tried to teach you guitar by moving your fingers into the correct positions for you. there was barely any contact between the two of you, and yet mingi sulked for days. part of you wanted to call it strange, but when you spotted him giving a pretty emo girl his drumsticks after a show, you gave him much of the same attitude.
you wouldn’t call it jealousy, per se, although maybe there was a little bit. mingi was your best friend after all. you have something special with him. something different that you have with no one else and you feel a way that you feel with no one else and-
oh.
oh.
suddenly the hand on your thigh felt very heavy, and you noticed the way his fingertips gently dip under the hem. had they been doing that the whole time? and you couldn’t help but feel like the way his thumb rubbed against the tip of your finger so softly had some type of further meaning behind it. not to mention the neutral yet unbelievably gentle look that took over his features, making him look even more pretty than usual in the scattered rays of light.
his lips were parted every so slightly, revealing that single wonky tooth that you found oh-so adorable. for a second you wondered what they would feel like against your skin, but you soon shunned the thought away as you remembered, oh yeah, the korn sweater. you’d felt them before. you know just how soft and gentle they are. it’s something that often plays on your mind and every time it does, you feel that same burst of excitement built up in your stomach. the one you get when mingi speaks about his passions. the one that feels like butterflies.
it is butterflies. fuck, it’s the whole damn zoo! a stampede of elephants charging though your body each and every time he does something that you find even mildly endearing. it just so happens that you find damn near everything he does endearing. you’d think those elephants would be tired of running by now…
“mingi,” you sigh, breath coming out in a plume of mist. you’d forgotten how cold it was in his presence. being around him just seemed to warm you up, “mingi, come here.”
he furrows his brow, but shuffles a tad closer. you almost groan in disappointment as he takes his hand away from your thigh, the skin immediately growing cold at the lost contact.
“what’s up, sunshine?” you feel em your eyes go wide at the nickname. you don’t know why; he uses it for you all the time.
“mingi, i’m confused… and a little scared,” you admit, although you didn’t know whether it was necessarily the truth. it was probably the closest word to describe how you were feeling though. with the way your heart was threatening to beat through your chest, and the way your stomach churned with nerves and the way your stupid brain had only just managed to catch up with how you had felt all along. it hurt, and it was painful and confusing and yeah, scared was probably a pretty good description.
“scared?” his voice grows serious as his eyes scan you up and down. once he sees that you’re fine physically, they return to your face. he looks just as confused as you feel, “what are you scared about? are you okay? hurt?”
you shake your head, taking in a deep, shaky breath. you let it out in yet another cloud of fog and watch at it floats away into nothing. you wish your butterflies, elephants, would do the same. it would make this whole thing so much easier.
“i’m fine, mingi,” you say, “just scared.”
“can you tell me why?” you nod, although it takes everything in you to do so.
“i want to kiss you,” you admit.
“kiss… me?”
you nod again, feeling a familiar heat rise to your face. the same one you get whenever mingi compliments you, or touches you. you can't believe it’s taken this long to finally figure it all out. it all feels so obvious now.
“i mean… yeah?” he stutters, “kiss me, yeah… yeah that sounds okay- i mean good! it sounds good… kissing, that is.”
if you weren’t feeling completely and utterly out of your depth, you’d have giggled at him. cutie pie you think to yourself before the heat in your body immediately gets more intense, and the elephants not only increase in number but in size too.
it’s now or never. before you can talk yourself out of it, you need to kiss him. because talking yourself out of it could be so easy. you could hop off of the awning, run back to your car and drive back to your dorm. sure, it would hurt when you would inevitably have to lock yourself away in embarrassment and never see mingi again, but time heals all wounds, right? and by the time you’re 50, the pain and embarrassment will have definitely almost healed over…
“so?” he mutters, pulling you back from the fantasy your brain had created, “are you going to do it?”
“i, uh…”
“i mean, i can if you want me to,” he shrugs, trying his hardest to play it cool as if he hadn’t been stuttering seconds prior. as if his face wasn’t just as pink as the mop of hair that sat atop it.
there is nothing cool about this man, you think to yourself as you push yourself into a sitting position. maybe that’s why you’re so attracted to him. his nerdy tendencies had tugged you in, and he’d worked his dorky little ways on you until you were hook line and sinker for him.
down bad, as the kids say. down so horrifically bad…
“i can do it,” you whisper as you look up at him with wide eyes. your lips are mere inches from his own, and his hot breath fans across your cold face. his eyes are on yours just briefly before they flicker down to your lips. they rested there for a second before making their way back up to yours, “i can kiss you,” you whisper.
“you can,” he mutters back, bringing his own face close enough to yours that you’re not even sure a sheet of paper would slip between the two of you. his tongue darts out to wet his own lips, gently brushing against yours too. your breath hitches as your last sliver of resolve vanishes. that’s it, you tell yourself, you can’t hold back anymore.
the tiny gap is closed as you press forwards, slamming your lips against his. your fingers shoot up to lace themselves in the hair at the nape of his neck, and his find a home on your waist. his eyelashes flutter against your face as he shuts his eyes, and you follow his lead, doing the same. it’s nice, you realise, the darkness letting you focus on how his lips feel moving slowly against your own. they fit perfectly, like they were always meant to be there.
he deepens the kiss briefly, tilting his head ever so slightly to get a better angle. it’s a little rougher at this angle, but you can’t find it in you to mind as he takes control. the desperation you feel from him as he moves his lips harshly against your own was something you feel yourself, so you let him take what he needs, taking just as much in return.
and by the time he pulls away, you’re both panting. rapid and hard and together. his lips have barely left your own as he catches his breath, but you don’t pull back either.
“fuck,” he mumbles against your lips, “that was… nice?”
“yeah,” you agree. ‘nice’ seems the best way to describe it, although it was so much more than just that, “it was nice, wasn’t it?”
“so nice, sunshine,” he says. a few beats of a silence pass before he presses his lips against yours again, this time for a much shorter, much more innocent peck. you can’t help but giggle as he pulls away. there’s a grin on his face too, “wish we’d done it sooner, though.”
you nod, “yeah, me too.”
“but we have all the time in the world, right?”
he pecks you again. this one lasts a few milliseconds longer than the last, not that you’re counting. when he pulls away, you chase it. another peck, this time led by you, but equally as brief as the other two. it’s his turn to chuckle.
“cute,” he grins, “you’re so cute.”
you get shy under his words and pull back just a tad. the grip he has on your waist refuses to let you go too far from him. you don’t mind; not at all. the fact he wants you so close actually sends the elephants feral. you feel them reach up to your heart to work their magic on that too. it probably isn’t healthy for it to beat at the speed that it is, but you really can’t help it. the elephants seem to respond to mingi and mingi alone. you don’t mind that either.
not at all.
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natailiatulls07 · 9 months
Text
Wholesome moments
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Formula one grid & female!driver!reader
Summary - 5 wholesome moments
Warning - none tbh, happy crying?? Being drunk??
Reader drives for RedBull
-
One - Late to post race press
I was in my drivers room, relaxing after a race. Strolling through tiktok when my manager, Emma, rushs in looking annoyed. "Oh hi Emma" I offer her a small smile which seems to only annoy her more.
"What are you doing?!" Her tone angry, by now I was confused. Pointing down to my phone which had a random tiktok playing on repeat. "You have the post race press, it was meant to start ten minutes ago but their waiting on you!" It was only then when I finally looked at the time, she was right.
Jumping up from the leather sofa, rushing out of my room toward the conference room with Emma close behind. Walking in, I could see everyones eyes on me. "Hey...so sorry for my tardiness" Laughing at myself awkwardly whilst everyone soon joined in with laughter.
Sit down in my seat between Fernando and Carlos. "So tell us Y/n what was so important that time fell away from you?" Turning my head to Daniel who had a smug smile on his face.
"Well if you must know Danny, tiktok has become very addictive recently" I wore a sheepish smile on my face as the room once again erupted in laughter.
"See kids these days, hooked to their phone" Daniel replied, shaking his head knowingly. It wsm't long before the laughter died down and we started press with myself in attendance.
Two - Prankster
If there was one thing on the paddock that I was known for it would be my notorious prank on anyone and everyone. LIke one time, I posted a instagram announcing 'my retirement'. This meant that I had my phone blowing up, texts, comments, missed calls and etc. I remember about two minute after I posted the instagram, I could a call from Christian. "Hey Chris!"
"What the hell Y/n?! What is going on with your instagram post?" I had to surpress my laughter and acted somewhat sad. He sounded upset, this made me feel almost sad for him.
"Oh yeah I know that its the middle of the season but I found some thing better for myself.." It was going great, I loved it. After a few seconds of silence, he came back to his sense.
"What could you have possible found that is better than not only driving for Redbull but for formula one?!" His voice was soon becoming more and more annoyed, and what I was about to say would set him off.
It was really hard to surpress myself from laughing when I told him the 'better thing'. "Have you ever heard of dog food tasters?" One could only imagine what his head was going through.
Yet again there was a few seconds of an awakward silence, a silence to sit through and not laugh. "Y/n... you're kidding me, you're the fussiest person I have ever met! And you're going to from fucking formula one and redbull to a dog food taster... you won't even drink coffee, let alone dog food!"
I could no longer hold in my laughter, doubling over I could hear Chris questioning my laugh. "Oh my god! You actually believed me, Christian I'm not leave redbull or formula one. I just pranked you" Dead silence until I heard Christian chuckle.
“I should of known, you little prankster” Let’s just say for the rest of the day, my phone would not turn off. Nearly every other driver on the grid calling, anxiety coursing through their heads.
Three - the little weight
It was the yearly FIA prize giving ceremony, everyone swapped out of their uniforms for gowns and suits. Hair and makeup done.
Sat in the buzzing venue, the night of celebrations meant I had not kept track of the amount of alcohol I was downing. Until I was announced as rookie of the year.
Raising from my seat, I made my way to stage. The crowd were clapping and cheering, I could see the other drivers sporting proud smiles.
Arriving to the mic which sat in the middle of the stage, I was handed my trophy. “Oh wow, thank you! I would like to say that I love you all and I’m that I want to thank Alex Turner for this because he is hot!” All it was rambling, I continued to ramble until Lando stood up from his seat.
“Quick question! Y/n how many drinks have you had?” His voice contained both concerns and amusement.
Holding up my free hand with two fingers, almost proudly. This small gesture made everyone burst into a light laughter. “Oh god! You are so drunk..” Lando trailed off whilst climbing up the stairs before walking me off stage.
“Come on, I think it’s time we start getting some water down you and maybe getting you home” He continued to walk me over to the grand reception where we waited for a taxi and drank some water.
-
Waking up the next morning, I was in my bed. Looking over at my phone, I could see a text from Lando along with other notifications probably regarding last night.
‘Hey kiddo, I managed to get you back to your apartment last night. Maybe next time don’t drink as much
Lots of love your big brother’
Checking social media, I immediately got embarrassment as my drunken ramble went viral.
Four - First F1 podium
“Okay Leclerc and Hamilton have a hot 7 seconds gap between you and them, keep pushing” It was the Austrian race and I had somehow settled myself into p2.
My anxiety was on an all time high when I was racing but currently being in p2 made that anxiety worsen. “Copy..” I was focused on getting that podium.
It would be my first podium, and even if I didn’t stand in pole position I would be happy. “How many laps left?” I asked my race engineer through the radio, I wanted to finish the race as soon as possible.
“Only two laps left, you can do it!” Only two that was reassuring to say the least. I could hear crowd cheering but I didn’t let that next my focus from the p2 spot.
“One lap left! Keep pushing!” One lap. One more lap until could stand on that podium for the first time. I accelerated the car, there was no chance I would catch Max but I had to keep that distance from the Ferrari and Mercedes behind me.
“There’s the checkered flag! You can do!” I could see the line and flag waving in the distance, it was only when I crossed the line that I really let my focus go and come to the realisation that I was on the podium.
“I did it! I fucking did it! P2 baby! That’s what I like to hear!” I could my race engineer laugh at my antics of the radio, whilst also tell me that they were incredibly proud.
-
Standing on the podium, I looked over at the crowd. A large smile was planted on my face. “Kiddo you did it! You’re on the podium!” I heard Max who was of course in p1 exclaim beside me.
I was soon soaked in sweet champagne, I didn’t care if it ruined my hair. All I cared about was the position I finished today’s race with.
Five - P1…oh how I like this view
Once again I was sat in the redbull car, awaiting for my the race to begin. I was very lucky to be granted pole position in Monaco of all places. It was tense as we all waited for the five lights to flash out.
And when the did, I was off leaving the wait line in no time. Tackling every tight curve, accelerating when ever I saw someone even get close to me.
I could feel the blazing sun down on my race suit. I could smell the scent of burning rubber. I could hear crowds who had lined the tracks. I could taste the exhaust filled air. But I felt like I had gone blind, just focusing on the track and maintaining my car from any possible damage.
Whilst in pit stop, my anxiety ran through the heavens. Just wanting to get back on the track and end with my win.
I was up against some of the best of the best. And I had to hold onto the pole position, hold onto that winning position.
“Verstappen is just over 5 seconds behind you so not much of a gap, keep pushing when you can” My race engineer was aware of anxiety when it came to racing, but she was also aware of my hunger for that winning position.
“Copy, how many laps?” Once again I was twisting around the narrow corners.
“Three, if you push the gap bigger you’ll probably win!” That’s was all I needed to give me motivation to push as hard as I can.
Pressing down on the accelerator, I heard the rumbling of my car increase in sound.
-
After three agonising laps, I could see the checkered flag being waved. Tears were welling up on my waterline. It was only when I cross that finish line when I then let them fall down my cheeks.
“I did… I’m first” I whispered, so only myself and my face engineer could hear. It was barely audible over the loud crowds who were cheering me on for my first win.
-
Finally standing above the number felt great. I felt tall, empowered, unstoppable and proud. Everyone was cheering as I was handed the trophy. Off to the side were the rest of the drivers who hadn’t won podium stood smiling up at me.
I felt that familiar family love once again. I always did whether I didn’t place top ten or if I had gotten to that first place position. I would be lying if I didn’t feel that love to them in return.
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pvnks0ul · 4 months
Text
me and mrs. wolf (18+)
❊ werewolf/shifter!riri x fem!reader
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sypnosis: Riri ends up having to find a creative way to keep you warm during your first camping trip together, you get more than you bargained for.
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⚠︎: little plot ⁴ 🌽, kinda terotaphilia¿¿, mentions of hunting & eating wild deer(sry), dirty talk, readers really fucking cold, dom!riri + sub!reader, enlarged clit/girldick, several rounds, use of *mommy* + breeding kink, married au, amateur writing ! + bad descriptions of camping cause im js not built for that lifestyle!!
a/n: this was originally based off that one twilight scene (iykyk🧛🏾‍♀️) but shit really do be happening...🥲
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There was no denying the early morning view when you'd first arrived. Selfoss was..beautiful, without a doubt one of the most Ethereal landscapes you'd ever seen but no amount of breathtakingly clear skies or eye watering fields of perfect green grasslands would ever be worth catching pneumonia in the booty hole. You didnt know how much longer you could take before calling it quits and ditching to whatever was closest to a ' 4 seasons round here—quite honestly you were probably already there.
The fire outside endlessly crackled, only reason for it not being put out was because Riri wanted to keep it burning so she could surprise you with dinner. The problem being she waited till the sun had already set to go hunting... Was it obvious she did not have the privilege of cooking very often?
You watched the blurred flames quiver and roar from behind the tents sheeted walls as your teeth clattered at an alarming rate, limbs shivering so hard you'd began jolting randomly to make sure you'd still had control over your own body. But you honestly wouldnt be surprised if they'd all just froze and fell off right about now.
You tried to roll closer to the side nearest of the fire but it's distant warmth only baited you to come outside and embrace it.
And you were so close to giving in if only the sun hadnt already went down, the light from the full moon only something dim compared to the dark forests surrounding you. Riri'd originally asked if you wanted to come with but truthfully your legs were already tired from gathering all the sticks for the pit. The relief she felt when you said you werent feeling up to the chase, especially since you wouldnt be of much help anyways, didn't go unnoticed.
So the agreement was, you'd stay in the tent where she felt you were safest and she'd go hunt alone. A very simple and easy task.
You sat up on the thick foambedding Riri had laid ontop of the built in matt so you wouldnt be laying completely on the ground. And although stocky, the comforter did little to protect you from the chilly air, you had on both your winter coats and one of Riris leather jackets underneath but it was clear no amount of layering would save you— or atleast not with the clothes you'd packed.
you smacked your forehead multiple times over like that would help as you cursed yourself for not going with her. You probably could've convinced Riri to carry you around on her back, if you had.
You poked your head out of the tent and it was nearly pitch black outside, now. The firepit lit up the inside of the empty but tiny lot, just enough to see a few trees surrounding.
The wind blew once more and your ears were starting to burn slightly from how cold it was, even with your beanie on.
By the time your brain had registered what you were thinking about doing, you'd already gotten up & were planting yourself on one of the logs that assisted as chairs. Gloved hands reached out to the fire and only then could you finally feel the slightest umpth of warmth.
You don't get to enjoy the heat for long when a snap of a branch comes from your left, pass the entrance of the camping site and you freeze in place. You try to write it off. You had to remember you were literally in the middle of a forest, it was a given that some wild life would lerk about— and you tried hard to convince yourself that's all it was.
It comes again but dangerously close and your hands drop to your sides faster than your heart to the pit of your stomach, your eyes are wide open, you weren't sure if you were prey but you weren't going to stick around to find out and before the third one can come you've already dashed it back to the little pavilion.
Zipping it up as quickly as you could with shaky hands & thick gloves, covering yourself in the comforter as a shield from whatever could be coming incase it followed you in.
Your breath hitches in your throat as the footsteps near and all you can think about was how much you wished Riri was here to protect you.
The soft thud of something weighty being dropped near your tent makes you jump and freeze out of pure unbridled fear. You have yet to blink, irises shaking and again you feel stupid because the only thing you had to defend yourself with was a lousy clothespin in the front pocket of Riris jacket.
The familiar sound the zipper sliding down sends shivers down your spine and you clutch the small needle tighter, at least you'd be going down with a fight albeit not alot.
You're too scared to even move an inch when you feel a fluffy but ice cold touch on your shoulder. You yelped, moving to a crouch as you held your clothespin infront of yourself.
"Baby, what are you doing?" Riris voice booms & vibrates against you. You can tell she's holding back a laugh by the condescending tone.
You squirm in her grip, trying to turn around in her strong arms,disbelief written all over your face, "You scared me!" you reply with a huff before hitting her hard chest, "Why didnt you say anything when you saw me running?"
"Cause I like the way you run off when you know you're not supposed to be doing something." She chuckles before kissing the side of your face, "Like doing the exact opposite of what was asked when I–"
"Ok, yeah, i get it, damn." you huff and drop your head at the lecture only for her to lift your chin so she can look you in the eye.
She pecks your cheek with chapped lips, forgetting what she was gonna say. Leading you to scoff when she releases her firm grip so she could remove her fuzzy noggin, “But...you were taking too long and i was freezinggg in here."
Riri quirks a brow, smirk festering to the surface, "I took not even 15 minutes."
You smack your teeth at her excuse, "you wouldn't understand." she laughs bolsteriusly, all whites showing as she tosses the hat to the side before seating herself against the back of the tent.
Riri pats the area beside her, "C'mere."
You crawl over to your wife, very tempted to climb into her lap but opting to just let yourself be enveloped when she wrapped her arms around you.
"Fifteen minutes feels more like forty-five when you're dying of frost-bite." you mumbled still not over it yet, snuggling into her, hogging her warmth for yourself.
"Mhmm.." she sighs. She knows that technically human bodies are much more vulnerable than one of her... stature but she also knows when her wife is being dramatic. Her hands rub up and down your back, earning a satisfied hum in response.
Your legs were stretched under you as her thumbs stroke at your cheeks, leaving goosebumps in their wake from how hot they were and it seems the both of you completely forgot about dinner.
She snorts at you before blowing air, "Well, I'll tell you what..If you miraculously manage to make it through the night, I'll get you the finest suite money can buy– in one of those what'd you call if? 4 springs? Gonna get you some proper breakfast and—"
"Mmm, thank god." You quipped before she could finish.
Riri smacks her teeth gathering you at the same time. "Yeah Anyway...all you'll have to do is sit pretty in bed and let me spoil you since you were willing to do this for me." she replies behind a smile before landing a fat peck to your temple, you moan approvingly, nodding as you clutched her shirt in your fist.
"I don't think you understand how much i appreciate it." You lift your head after a few seconds passed and she didnt let go only to find hungry dark orbs staring back at you, falling to your parted lips and then back up. Heat rushes to your face as you look anywhere but at her, "I- I do." an odd burning sensation sets in your core racing all the way up to your tummy.
"Yeah? I bet you still want me to show you though, huh?"
Riri wonders if it'd be selfish to have you right here and now, with how frozen to the touch you were just a second ago.
You grab at her arm, that doting look in your eye that you get when you're too shy under her gaze to speak your mind and she hastly decides it's not. That infact, the little action she's seeking would be helping you in the end.
So she drops her arms from around your body, shaking her jacket off and quickly undoing your puffy winter coats.
She pushes you onto your back without a word. You make sure your silence isnt mistaken for no, helping her in her mission to unbutton the first layers of jackets and slide them away.
Riri bellows at this. You always looked so pretty under her and it was a sight she'd never want to forget. She wastes no time climbing over you, straddling your thighs between her spread legs and leaning down to help.
She doesnt even need to survey once, rough hands just pulling and popping the zippers on the last few, "Ah–! Hey-" Riri brings her lips to yours in a means to shush you but she can't stop herself from the wantonly aura that read it was her who wanted more, her thumbs fumbling with the end of your shirt before yanking it up & over your bra. She grunts into your kiss a subtle, "Shut up, you won't even need them."
Your eyes flutter shut as you arch into her and there's no further argument. Just you kissing back with just as much fervor now, your hands grabbing the back of her neck and holding her closer. Riris hard fingernails scrape against your stomach as they made their way up to your breast, she fondles you gently through the fabric, circling her thumb in search of your nipple and pinching it between her index when she finds it.
You whimper into her mouth desperate for more but all she responds with is before doing the same to the other breast and pulling your bra down under the cusps of them once they'd pebbled hard enough.
She leaves you with a sweet kiss, then a peck that has you blindly chasing after her but you can't get far with the way she holds you down. You whine, bucking your hips up mindlessy absolutely desperate for any kind of friction. What you find in it's place takes you by surprise. You gasp before feeling at the bulge in her pants. Riri tenses on the spot, cursing under her breath before grinding into your palm.
"You brought your strap all the way out here, Ri?" you giggle while tugging on the tent in her pants.
Riri shakes her head, "No, I–!" she shudders when your hand moves even just a little bit, "No. It's all me." your eyes widen at her words.
You're immediately curious, feeling her up through her pants. Your fingertips going over her print and it's long, the thickest you've ever attempted to wrap your hands around. Your hands move lower and riri twitches up again. Right between a familiar set of puffy lips is where it sprouted and you're still a little in disbelief.
Riri holds your wrist in place, guiding it up and back down to the curved base. You can feel her hardening under your touch and it's oh so surreal. After a few more strokes you're already huffing under her, pupils pitch black & fully blown and she knows you're getting just as worked up.
And the shock of it all is not what you choose to focus on, if Riri says it's all her then you believe her. But that also means she must feel so suffocated in her tight-fitting boxers.
The first time you tried to move your hands away to pull at her pants, your reprimanded immediately. She takes it upon herself to push your wrists over your head, holding them in one hand, her extended claws were sharp and marking the skin just a little.
"Need t-to know if i can fuck you..." she whispers directly into your ear, your thighs clench beneath her at the blatant vulgarity.
Your words were caught in your throat in the middle of all of this. Riri takes advantage it, kissing over that side of your face multiple times before making her way to your neck, you gasp, opening your legs mindlessly and Riris already centering her bulge in the middle of your covered achy lips.
She whimpers because of how sensitive you managed to make her, abusing your swollen clit through damp fabric, frantic for a release and she needs to know if you're ready now more than ever.
Riri holds onto the back of your thighs, rolling her hips "Please.." she begs for what seems to be the first time, big brown eyes darting everywhere on your face, bursting with impatience, she felt like she was going to throb herself into a slow release.
You nod your head quickly, she could have whatever she wanted from you right now. Riri sighs before releasing your hands and you already know not to move them.
Riris anxious fingers fumble around for your leggings, tugging and tossing them to the side somewhere.
Your scent is strong and it takes over her senses completely, she almost puts her own needs aside just for a taste, an you can see the complexity in the pinch of her brows as her figure loomed overtop of you.
Evidently she made up her mind as the pads of her fingers now slid down to the edge of your panties and you can see her physically fighting the animalistic urge to rip them off of you. She utilizes her middle & ring, roughly dragging them to your ankle, letting you kick them off before she dips them lightly between your sticky lips, you hiss, giving it your all to not shut your legs around her fingers as she enjoyed the slick.
She decides it was enough with the waiting, you clearly needed this just as bad as her. Riri unbuckles her cargos, sliding off her boxers aswell.
Small desperate pants slip past your lips at the sight of your wife, taking in her muscular form but, what really captures your eye is the pretty little trimmed patch of curly hair sprawled down her abs. Your hands have a mind of their own as you grab her hips with one and claw at her toned tummy to her sport bra with the other.
She bites down on her bottom lip before swatting at you, "Fuck– Alright baby..." she speaks as she collects your wrists in one of her hands... again. She maneuvers your legs up to your chest, so she could appraise your gaping hole; so patiently awaiting her arrival.
Riris holds the tip of her erect clit in her hand, bringing it over yours and rubbing it in the wad of spit she just landed there, letting you grind up as you pleased till she had to go back down.
"Oww– huuh, ohh!" You whimper out the first words you'd spoken since she started this whole thing as she smoothly inches her way pass your entrance. Riri herself, is left hissing when she finally breaks through the ring, grazing each side of your walls effortlessly.
Your head tilts back upon entry, mind going blank as you grasped the comforter under you, needing something to keep you afloat. You're suffocating her and she's barely had a taste. she pushes further until your pelvics meet, bottoming out in one strained push.
"G–god damn." Her clit throbs inside of you, giving you more to stretch around in case you were becoming too accustomed with it the first time.
Riri murmurs more curse words under her breath from the way you clenched and halted her in place when she attempts to move. Only wanting to set a slow but satisfying rhythm to get you both used to the other.
She holds you down with one hand to your waist, pulling out to the rim of your pussy and then slamming back in. She moans louder, getting loss in the immediate pulsing of your gooey walls.
"Yes, Riri~–!" Your eyes roll as she starts to pick up the pace, fucking you harder into the matt. Not even her biggest faux piece had made you feel this full— you want some more and right now.
Her labia kisses yours as she digs deeper into you, strings of your arousal mixing with her own. "Fuck y/n." she whispers your name behind an exasperated grunt, pounding into you harshly as she held onto your waist.
Your face feels like it's on fire and your belly is rapidily turning, you were right on the cusp of an orgasm and too fucked out to warn her.
Yet you tried. You tried jerking on her clit to still her movements. But it only excites her more. She growls in response, "Mmmn—!" slapping your breast and biting her lip till she could taste iron when it bounced, ignoring your yelp completely, "Keep pulling on my shit, baby."
It grows again, the heads vibrating as your pussy adjusted around it and if it weren't for the constant sloshing from the mix of both of your releases against the other, you probably would've heard the humming.
You cry out at the stretch, pushing at her lower stomach to slow down but she simply smacks at your hands, "Nah, this is what she wants– look how she takes me. Don't be greedy, babygirl." Riri taunts referring to the loud squelch of your pussy every time she thrusted just a bit.
Your eyes roll to the back of your head as she shook the whole damn mat, "Riri—! I can't—" you try to fixate on the place where your body met hers, clenching around her again, throwing her off balance and she gives up on the steady strokes, "Gonna nmph—! Fucking fill you deep if you do that shit again, Mhmm.." She starts pistoling her hips into you, sloppily creating a dripping mess between your bodies, "..make you have all my babies."
You probably looked like a googly eyed fool with the way they rolled to the back of your head at her rambling, you want it all so bad, you felt delirious.
Your legs lock around her hips as you moaned out a chant of her name, clamping down on her clit with a deadly vice and her head falls back instantly, she lets you have it. Riri holds your lower stomach with her palm, hips stuttering as she ruts against you, desperately using you to empty all her nut into.
The silky straws of her cum are so warm and it makes you have an explosion on your own, your cream gushing and mixing with hers, leaking out of your pussy straight down onto the flat bed because that's you were too stuffed to keep any of it in.
And eventually all of the thick liquid combined slowly pushes her out completely.
Riri looks down to find her clit twitching, absolutely drenched in cum—she's not sure who's– still dripping from the ring formed near the base and that was surely your work.
She gets more aroused at the thought. Rubbing at your sensitive inner–thigh, ready for another round and apparently you were too by how they ease open for her.
"Can you give me a color baby?" fingers moving up to your silk-covered folds.
You blink slowly at her, nodding as you grabbed at the wrist of her curious fingers, "g–green.."
Riri bobs her head, trying not to let her smirk suffice. You're shaking, still on the cusp and yet you want more? what a slut. she hides it by kissing all over your face, making you whine when she got everywhere but your lips.
Your arms are quick to wrap and lock around her neck, pulling her down to you and Riri has to stifle a laugh at how desperate you were acting. Knowing she can't go on long when trying to resist you, she let's you win this battle.
This kiss was different then the first, you had her by the little strands of her neck hair, moaning into the hot kiss when she bit down on your lip, your mouth opens, accepting her tongue and you can feel her shaft poking and twitching with want against your lower stomach as she licked & searched every bit of it..
This kiss was messy & frantic, something that described the both of you to a tee in the exact moment.
Riri growls again, muffled but it still makes your head spin. You arch your back into her, the bottom of her clit rubbing ontop of your own and you have no choice but to leave the kiss, your head falling back in defeat as she kept rolling her pelvic against you.
"Ri! Wait, please–! just wait!" You were gonna cum if she kept going and hard, your body wouldn't have been ready for that yet.
You're flanking against each rushed thrust, as she panted heavily, "shit!shit!shit!" grunting lowly but with your constant running the satisfaction wouldn't be the same.
So Riri stops, she unravels your arms from around her body and sits back on her knees, "Come ride me." she bids, eager to have you all over again while licking at her lips, moist with your spit and cherry balm.
Your mouth gapes open as you stared at her. She purposely moved to the opposite end, knowing you would struggle to make it over there. Ri sits flat down on the mat now, her legs spread and clit swaying proudly over her lap and all you can do is bat your lashes pathetically.
You felt as if you were glued to the bedding with the way you body refused to move. Riris mean– she's so mean when she laughs at you. Shaking her head and crawling back over to you on her knees.
She stays silent as she pulls you into her chest before maneuvering your body the other way around. She pushes you roughly back down into the sheets, "Since you don't wanna listen."
Your brows raise for the first time as you weakly held yourself up on your elbows. You almost speak up but you're interrupted by the sound of a loud moan when she enters you again, moving without giving you a chance to adjust.
"Never gonna be able forget what this pussy feel like, baby." she murmurs softly despite her hard & cruelly plodding pace.
Her hands dig back into their designated slots on your waist and you drop your head, admittedly liking the harsh way she fucked and used your body for her own selfish needs. "Feel so good!" you mumble drunkenly.
The outburst earns you a slap to the round of your ass. You yelp, pulling off to the tip of her clit. "Eugnh! Fuck!" Sticking your back out, approvingly.
"Who told your ass to move?" she growls while roughly yanking you back to her mound, you mutter a meak apology that means nothing to riri as she clenched her teeth, watching you make a mess of her clit. She plays with the globes of your ass, spreading them pleasantly as you formed an unnatural arch trying to push back into her, feening for it.
"Yeah, baby? You like this position, huh? Dirty girl."
You only nod but riri corrects you, a crackle hits the air when she drops her open palm on your ass again, "Talk back to me."
You whine, arms giving out and slumping down to just your elbows, "f-fuck yes, mommy!"
Riri coos before slapping your ass again right in the middle as she snapped her hips, "You want it faster? Huh?"
You moan, "Yeah–!"
"Work for it then." riri sighs out cooly while stopping immediately against you.
Your knees shake pathetically as you immediately try. You throw it back for the first time, just tightening around her and hoping it'd be enough.
Riri squeezes the flesh of your ass in her hand in return having you curl into yourself at the satisfying burn, she bumps you against her until you were able to fuck yourself off her.
"See– shit! You know what you're doing baby."
Riri catches what you throw, grunting dirty pleasures into your sweaty neck, as you led her closer to a final climax.
"My good girl..Damn.", "Fuck, look how you working this shit."
You were brought to the final straw when she brought her hands under your body, pushing her way into your sloppy folds so she could rub at your small clit and ease your nerves. It jolts you again, but you don't run this time, just grinding down into it. You're sure to alert her though. An ear shattering, "M'gonna cum so hard mommy shiiit!"
"And mommy really wants your cum, pretty." She fucks you harsher, pulling you back and forth on her clit so hard you were gasping out at each one, the head tickling your cervix and pushing you further into your orgasm. "C'mon then."
"Ahh! Oh! M'gonna–so close shitghh–!"
Your orgasm racks through your body hard, you can't even keep up with riris strokes, letting her fuck you through your high and then you're clawing at your pillows tryin to get away. She keeps going until her hips stutter into an climax, exploding and pounding it into your coated walls until the high had escaped her.
You cry out finally sliding off her piece and closing your eyes, thighs still shaking just a bit as you went through the motions all over again. Your stomachs twisting and pulling and you dont even feel like turning around the right way– just wanting to catch your breath.
You're trembling slightly when her eyes set back on you, she can tell you're not all the way back yet. She moves between your legs to rub at your thigh and she finds it burning to the touch, problem solved, she smirks proudly.
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Riri sits on the same log you had, the muscles in her biceps bulge as she grips the buck by its front and back legs, laying it flat with a thud much louder than before, using her extracted nails to get rid of the rope she tied it's ankles with in one simple swipe.
When you finally come to and realize she's not by your side, you're immediately jolting up, thinking she left you again. You're quick to take notice of the thick comforter keeping you tucked in. It still hurt to move, your body was so sore but you were more determined to go find Riri.
You toss the blanket over, revealing a fresh set of the aforementioned girls sweatpants snug on your legs and you can't seem to remember how you even got then on.
you groan obnoxiously, lifting yourself up to properly rub the sleep out of your eyes, "Riri!?" your voice was hoarse from *the possible* hours before.
You hear a faint "outside!" and have already kicked into your winter boots. And Riri doesn't need an announcement of your presence, she can feel you idling close by and pats her thigh, you gladly squeeze your way into her bulging arms, wrapping your own around her waist but under her puffer so you could steal some of her body heat.
Riri gets side tracked once again, with your weight ontop of hers, completely forgetting about dinner for a split second as she wraps her arms around you and hoists you further into her lap, her head falling comfortably ontop of your chest while your arms become a cloak around her neck.
She breathes in your scent a little and goosebumps are sprouting under the thick garments now, "Don't you wanna know what happened?"
"mhmn." you shrug your shoulders, you weren't really sure at all, mind still hazy and too busy dozing off in her arms. She was naturally very warm & cozy, almost like a living teddy especially when wearing the fluffy coat you got her and your thoughts becoming pinkish brown mush, vision slowly becoming black dots filling in a canvas as you pressed tighter into her hold, were evidence of that.
The doe-like fluttering of your lashes has her stumped, she's not going to make you stay up since it was her fault you were so worn out in the first place but, she was going to make sure you ate first.
Apparently, you ended up falling asleep against her somewhere down that line anyways because when you next open your eyes, its with a tubberware bowl full of some sweet smelling soup in her lap and a silver utensil, pokin your lip. You furrow your brows, still not all the way up yet and Riri chuckles, "Try it. It'll warm you up a little bit more."
You happily encourage her spoonfeeding it to you after this sliver of information, humming at the unique taste once it hits you. How she was able to skin and gut that deer with you in her arms the entire time, still unbeknownst to you.
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This was supposed to be for Halloween but.. Well, I'll think of an excuse & comeback later 😚
🔖: @sapphicbarbz @shurislover @s0lam33y
(ty @lppriceisright for proof reading another fic for me!)
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doppel-doodles · 3 months
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Hi, i really like your art and you writing, you are really good, so I wanted to know if you could Make some headcanons about Macaque ,Wukong ,Azure AND Shadowpeach with a Male or GN reader that Is súper soft with them and supports them when they are down, I was thinking about Wukong AND Macaque without The glamour things and insecure about their real apearence, and Azure with some scars after The Jade emperor Situation, Those boys need some love AND im sorry if I am overloading you with this request, Thanks
Heya! Firstly thanks a bunch for requesting and for the compliments! It's really sweet:> I was a bit confused in the request if you meant shadowpeach and the boys separately or just shadowpeach so I did the former just to be safe! Hope you enjoy!
Azure, Wukong and Macaque with a supportive reader
Azure lion
If we're going with Azure somehow surviving what happened to him in season 4 then I imagine he would probably gain large scars all over his body from the jade emperor's powers being too much for him to the point it was literally tearing him apart.
One goes over his eye and he has most likely lost some vision with that one, another cuts into his mane creating a slight bald spot. And the rest are scattered all across from his arms to his legs.
I don't think he would cover them up with glamour though, he would most likely keep them out as a reminder of what he did, a warning even.
Finally realizing that he wasn't the good guy and everything he did was in fact not good comes with a lot of emotions: guilt,shame even remorse.
But that's where you come in!
You don't know what Azure did or even who he was before you two met. With you he could have a fresh start, something he may have desperately needed after everything.
You would never try and pry about what happened to him to be so banged up either.
Not even when he wakes up in the middle of the night after a horrible nightmare, dreaming about how that day he was defeated could have turned out...
You just hold him,sooth him, tell him he's safe and that whatever he saw wasn't real.
And you'll continue to do so until he passes out in your arms, becoming a snoring mess once again.
You'll never know just how grateful he is to you for this, his appreciation just grows deeper every time.
He has debated over telling you who he used to be and what he had done, to be honest something inside him is deeply afraid that you'll hate him if he tells you even with you showing him nothing but care and support, and if you would he wouldn't fault you for it, not one bit.
He will tell you the story behind his scars one day, he just needs a little more time.
Sun Wukong
Okay, for Wukong I actually feel like it'll take him EXTREMELY long to drop the glamour around you. He really needs to be insanely comfortable with your presence and that alone takes time.
Him and being open with people just don't seem to mesh you feel me?
It also just stings his ego a bit. He is supposed to be the monkey king, the great sage equal to heaven for him you don't imagine that kind of guy getting hurt like ever right?
But if you are patient with him you'll eventually have him coming home, dropping his glamour and happily falling into your arms for a well deserved cuddle after a long day.
And once he showed them to you there really is no going back for him, the feeling of you kissing over his scarred skin? The way it fills him with that warm fuzziness? He wouldn't trade it for all the peaches in the world.
I imagine the circlet that was used on him actually left a scar that goes all around his head, so be sure to place lots of kisses on his forehead yes?
I've also played around with the idea that when the lady bone demon possessed Wukong it actually left a scar on his back were her power entered.
The skin ther is not just cool to the touch, it is ice cold.
This one is especially hard to look at for him but he can always feel it, no matter how many layers he wears that spot will always feel cool,dead even.
And death is something he does not like.
So when you hug him from behind or give him back rubs, your body heat breathing life back into his skin for a brief period of time it almost makes him regret hiding this from you for so long!
Macaque
Surprisingly with Macaque it's EVEN WORSE he has a major case of trust issues so don't think he'll dump to you even though he definitely should let it out-
Like you actually have the patience of a saint if you can put up with him for that long in his eyes, which is great! He loves that about you!
With your encouragement he'll actually become willing to show his eye scar in public...kinda.
What I mean is when he is in human form performing at his shadow theater it would be there but covered by his hood so nobody would actually be able to see it.
Listen we are taking baby steps here-
And you couldn't be prouder of these tiny steps! And you let him know that, oh how you let him know that.
He is low key kinda startled by it at first, in his mind you should probably feel a bit cheated by him doing it this way but you just aren't. It makes his heart flutter more than he likes to admit.
He also appreciates the little things you do for him when you learn of his six ears and exceptional hearing.
Without even noticing you'll talk in a quieter voice or just watch your tone in general or you just carry a pair of noise cancelling headphones around for him incase you two find yourself in an unbearably loud environment and for whatever reason can't leave.
He ADORES your thoughtfulness for him to be honest.
It's been a while since he experienced anything like it.
Shadowpeach
Here is a shocker I don't think it'll take them even half as long to drop the glamour in this situation.
Because those two have a history, they know mostly what the other truly looks like already so there isn't as much pressure to hide it from the other since they already know.
And it would kinda make them feel bad to leave you out of the loop at that point, you're part of this relationship too after all so if they can show their scars to each other then they should show them to you as well right?
Although seeing Macaques eye stirs up a mix of feelings in Wukong every time.
He caused it after all.
Also I like the idea of Macaque planning out this whole grandiose reveal to you, like the extra Theater kid he is he actually has a whole script written out and memorised down to the very last line, yes he tried forcing Wukong to do the same, no he did not do the same.
Then the day before Wukong strolls in with no glamour like "HERE I AM!" Like the jerk he is-
Macaque proceeded to have a friendly round of rough housing with him for that:D
Besides that I imagine it being like it was in their own headcanons just with these two occasionally fighting for your attention
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mlbigbang · 5 months
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2023 Ladynoir Fic Rec List
It’s the end of the year which means it’s finally time for the ML Big Bang’s yearly fic rec lists! We’re really excited to bring you our contributors’ favourite fics started this year to supply you with plenty of reading material while you’re waiting for the Big Bang fics’ publication in January.
all of your flaws and all of my flaws (are laid out one by one) by @coffeebanana
Ladybug and Marinette have both been acting strangely since Monarch's defeat, and Chat Noir would give anything to know why—to be able to help them. He just…didn't expect his answers to come when Ladybug drags him to his father's statue in the middle of the night along with a bag full of spray paint.
This fic explores the aftermath of the season 5 finale and provides some badly needed hurt/comfort, lovesquare communication, and vandalism ; )
with this ring by @thelibraryloser
She thought “you and me against the world” had sounded like lopsided odds before, when she hadn’t even dreamed “you against me” was a possibility. Or maybe she had dreamed it, but at least in those dreams he’d had cold blue eyes and a stark white mask. The villain she’d fought today had looked at her through her partner’s own bright green eyes. It wasn’t meant to be this way.
It tore at my heartstrings! It deals with a unique Ladynoir 'enemies' premise in a beautiful way
Let Me Count the Ways (aka Chat Noir's List of Ladybug's New Habits) by @sariahsue
Chat Noir thought it might be a good idea to start keeping a list of all the strange things Ladybug had been doing lately. It might help him to figure out what it all meant. There was the stumbling, the stuttering, the blushing. It had appeared out of nowhere. No, that wasn't quite right. It had all started when they were dancing at the gala, when she'd been so nervous that she tripped over the perfectly flat marble floor and smashed her face into his chest.
Like Smoke from a Furnace by @wackus-bonkus-maximus
Marinette and Adrien give up their Miraculous. Ladybug and Chat Noir never meet again.
It's hard to categorize this. Is this a ship or is it gen? It's strictly Adrienette because they're married. But pre-reveal. It forks after Kwami's Choice and asks the question: How would LB cope with LB and CN never getting their miraculous back after Kwami's Choice? But the story's title seems to indicate that this is kind of a "forbidden Ladynoir" fic because it's an allusion to the potentially devastating effects of "looking back" when you shouldn't. I've read this fic like a dozen times and am completely obsessed.
telepathy by @thelibraryloser
There’s a certain amount of telepathy created after several years fighting beside someone. It’s a mix of chemistry, history, and probably a bit of actual magic, and it comes down to this: Chat Noir usually knows exactly what his Lady is thinking. So, when a bike messenger hands him a three digit number written on a piece of hospital stationary, he knows exactly what Ladybug is asking him to do. He just can’t believe it. 
soft and sweet and much ladynoir! <3
A 'Super' Guide to 'Super' Dating by @mysticraven20
When Ladybug just scrapes into the top 10 of Paris’ favourite heroes list, she asks her partner and her best friend for help. After they decide she’s not personable enough, which in result, makes her unapproachable, Marinette goes out to try and become one with the public by writing her very own dating blog. As the blog turns into an overwhelming hit, Marinette finds herself in an awkward position, once again falling for the guy she’s always longed for; a guy who has started his own search for love following her ‘Super’ guide to ‘Super’ Dating.
I just love the idea of Ladybug writing a dating column as she tries to find love in the city.
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thegettingbyp2 · 1 year
Note
could you do later seasons spencer x new bau reader but reader is very much sunshiney and ever since prison spencer is more black cat this can be ethier smut or fluff I just like the idea
hope this makes since lol
I Never Used to be Like This
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Before you joined the BAU, you had heard so many amazing things about all of the team members, past and present. However, you were most excited about meeting Dr Spencer Reid. From what you had heard, you thought that the two of you were going to quickly become fast friends, you had so much in common you thought that your friendship was an inevitability.
That all was tipped upside down on your first day on the job.
You had made sure that you got to the office early, not wanting to risk being late on your first day, ending up with you being the first one in the office. Soon, the rest of the team began to file in, each and every one of them welcoming you with open arms and making you feel at home instantly. Once you’d been introduced to everyone, you couldn’t help but notice that Spencer hadn’t turned up yet.
‘Spencer’ll be here soon,’ Luke said, handing you a cup of coffee, ‘he’s just had a rough couple of months, he’s not fully back to himself yet but he’ll get there. He’s a great guy though, the two of you will get along like a house on fire!’
Not long after, a tall man walked into the office and you couldn’t stop your breath from hitching in your throat when your eyes laid on him, causing Luke to let out a snot of laughter into his coffee cup. The man had longish brown hair that was just the right side of messy and he had a smattering of stubble littering his lower jaw. Wanting to make a good first impression, you headed over to where he was setting his messenger bag on top of his desk and held your hand out towards him.
‘Hi! I’m (Y/N), I’m new, you must be Spencer,’ you said cheerily, your enthusiasm dimming slightly when he looked down at your outstretched hand and waved at you slightly in return, a tight-lipped smile on his lips.
‘Dr Spencer Reid, nice to meet you,’ he said before turning his back to you and sitting at his desk. Not quite knowing what to do, you let your hand fall limply to your side as you made your way back to your desk and continued to set everything up, trying hard to ignore the embarrassed heat that had rushed into your cheeks.
---
You had been a part of the BAU for three weeks now and you were almost completely settled in; the only thing that still set you on edge was Spencer Reid. Ever since your first interaction, the two of you had barely spoken, Spencer always making sure the leave the room as soon as it was only the two of you. You tried not to let it bother you but you couldn’t help but wish you knew what you had done wrong in your first interaction with him.
It was late on a Friday night and you and Spencer were the only two people left in the office, everyone else having decided to leave early to get a head-start on their weekend. You were sitting at your desk, going through the pile on reports you had to get through while Spencer was in the boardroom, studying the evidence board that had been left up. All of a sudden, you heard a loud bang sound on the window. Turning around in your chair, you saw Spencer standing in the middle of the room, surrounded by paper scattered on the floor.
Without thinking, you jumped up and rushed into the boardroom, wanting to check that Spencer was okay.
‘What happened in here?’ you asked, leaning against the doorframe.
‘Nothing,’ Spencer muttered, keeping his back towards you as he bent down to start picking the papers up. You pushed yourself off of the doorframe and moved into the room to help him. ‘I don’t need any help,’ Spencer said, a cold sound to his voice that seemed to push you over the edge.
‘Seriously, Spencer, what have I done to you?!’ you exclaimed, making Spencer finally look at you. ‘Ever since I started here, you’ve seemed to have gone out of your way to make me feel unwelcome, you’ve spoken to me once and that was when I introduced myself. What did I say that pissed you off so much?!’
Spencer was quick to cut your sentence off by pulling you into him and crashing his lips onto yours. His grip was harsh on your hips as he held you against him as his tongue licked into your mouth. Your fingers came up to thread through his hair, a small growl coming from Spencer’s throat when you tugged lightly. Almost as quickly as it began, Spencer roughly shoved you away from him and ran his hands through his hair, watching as your chest moved up and down while you tried to catch your breath.
‘Spencer what’s going on?’
‘I’m not…good anymore,’ he said quietly, almost as if he was struggling to find the right words.
‘What do you mean?’ you asked, moving closer to him and tentatively taking his hand in yours. You watched as Spencer’s shoulders seemed to relax at the feel of your hand in his and he sighed heavily before leading you both over to some of the chairs that were around the table.
‘I never used to be like this. Prison changed me. I used to be this clean-cut, good guy and I just feel that prison kind of squashed that out of me and when I saw you on your first day, I knew that there was no way I could let myself near you because I’d never want to pull myself away and you don’t deserve that. You deserve someone who is good and doesn’t have a criminal record.’ He said the last part of his sentence under his breath, almost as if he didn’t want to admit it for himself.
‘Spencer, I don’t care that you went to prison, why would I? And you definitely don’t have the right to decide if you’re good for me or not, that’s a decision I can make for myself.’
‘You’re right,’ Spencer said heavily, ‘I’m sorry.’
You tried your luck and inched closer to him and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek, your heart clenching in your chest when you heard his breath catch as you felt him lean into you. ‘Can we start again?’ you asked, your faces inches apart.
‘I’d really like that,’ Spencer whispered in reply.
You smiled at him softly before leaning back and holding your hand out to him. ‘Hi, my name’s (Y/N), I’m new here.’
‘Dr Spencer Reid, it’s really nice to meet you (Y/N),’ he said, smiling at you as he took your hand and shook it.
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toruro · 6 months
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— ✧ flight of the stars (teaser)
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read the full fic here!
"It’s funny; Minghao’s whole career is about being in the driver’s seat but somehow when it comes to you, he doesn’t know when to press on the gas or hit the brake."
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genre: smut (18+ / mdni), f1 au, brief high school au, angst, fluff
description: being a doctor, you think you should feel guilty when you start to enjoy the presence of a “regular” a little too much, but who can blame you for missing your patient when he's xu minghao. you know—the xu minghao: crown jewel of SECTOR Racing, top pick of the season, and possibly the one person who knows more about you than anyone else in the world.
tags: character death (not reader / hao), discussion of medical issues, descriptions of pain, pining, racer minghao, physiotherapist reader, probably inaccurate representation of physiotherapy, also featuring kwannie, hansol, cheol, wonwoo, & hannie
w/c: teaser 580+, full fic estimated ~15k (currently at 10k!)
estimated release: if not in time for his birthday (11/07), it will be done by the end of the month! join my taglist if ur interested!!
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Jeonghan opens the door from the other side and quietly closes the door behind him before pushing you a little deeper into the hallway. “He seems like, really sad, so—”
“Well, obviously. It’s a serious injury,” you say with a roll of your eyes. Jeonghan clicks his lips and nudges your shoulder.
“Whatever. I’m just telling you to tread carefully,” he says as you make your way to the door. You don’t respond to Jeonghan as you slip in. Minghao’s turned away from you as he sits on his wheelchair in the middle of the room you purse your lips before taking a deep breath and nodding.
You got this. Seungkwan was right—you’ve worked too hard for too long to be rendered anxious ‘cause of a silly little overlap of your past with your patient.
“Hi Mr. Xu,” you greet, making your way to the table right by where he sits, finally seeing him up close. He doesn’t look at you. “I’m pretty sure you already have heard enough about what’s wrong with your neck right now, so let’s talk about how we can make it better, yeah?”
You hear a gruff, “Sure,” escape his lips, and you figure that given his circumstances, it’s understandable.
“The report says that when you first started feeling the pain you couldn’t move your right arm even a little without it hurting in your neck, right?” you clarify as you sit at the chair between him and your table.
“Yeah.”
“Is it better now?”
“A little. Can move my forearm but moving my shoulder still hurts.”
“Okay, this is a good sign actually—you’re getting through the initial stages of healing just like normal. The first week or so of strain like yours might be pretty painful, but it’s over quickly and the pain after that should be pretty bearable, although it’ll take more time for it to heal.” You tell him, looking away to glance at the scans.
As he stares at the ground, Minghao wants to scream. Good sign? What the fuck are you talking about—he can’t even lift his goddamn arm without it feeling like there’s daggers plunging into his neck, and you’re here sitting all calm faced, pristine, acting like this isn’t his fuckin’ career on the line. Acting like your words are gonna make a difference as long as he’s in this stupid ass brace with this stupid ass injury in this stupid ass room with—who the fuck even are you?
His head hurts, and Minghao thinks it’s partly because of his neck, but it’s mostly because he can’t stop thinking. Thinking about the worst possibilities, thinking about everything that could go wrong and—well shit, he chides himself for letting his anger get the better of himself, even if it was just in his head.
Shamefully, he presses his eyes shut and takes a deep breath before finally lifting his gaze and turning to face you. When you look up from your paper and finally turn back to him, you’re met with the sight of pretty brown eyes staring right back at you.
“I—” Minghao starts, but it sounds like the air got stuck in his throat as he finally takes in your figure, and then he purses his lips together and turns back away. “Nothing.” The possibilities of what he could have been thinking ruins your mind just a little.
You can see it in his eyes—Minghao remembers. Still, he doesn’t say anything about it, and you wonder if you prefer things to stay that way.
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tkwrites · 8 months
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Shoot the Moon - Quinn Hughes x ofc
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Photo from instagram
Title: Shoot the Moon
Author: Tory / @tkwrites 
Relationship: Pre-established: Quinn Hughes x Original female character 
Warnings: comfort, fluffy beginnings, smut (18+ only), oral m & f receiving 
Summary: Quinn comes home exhausted from a rough road trip. After a good night's sleep, he decides to try out some new things with Sarah. 
Word count: 5,500
Comments: this is my first fanfiction ever posted, though I've been writing them for a long, long time. I hope you enjoy! 
Shoot the Moon
A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot
 I made tacos at your place, so don’t pick anything up on the way home.
This simple text sent gratitude rocketing through Quinn. He just needed to get home. They were on the bus to the arena, then he would drive the 20 minutes to his apartment, and to Sarah who was waiting for him with his favorite meal. The bus seat was digging into the bruise on his right hip from where he’d hit hard two days ago. It felt better when he was moving, but sitting still was torture. It had been on the plane and it was here again. 
He was so glad to be home. It was near the end of the season, and he was tired, his body,  time and emotions drawn out well beyond their limits. He couldn’t wait to get a good night's sleep next to Sarah. He had never missed someone like this. He'd never noticed the absence of her weight in the bed next to him, or missed the smell of her perfume in such a tangible way. He was beginning to feel like he couldn't and didn't want to live without her. 
The next road trip they went on, he needed to bring something with her perfume. Maybe that would help him sleep better. 
When he finally opened the door to his apartment, Sarah walked around the couch to greet him. His bags hit the floor and he collapsed against her, nuzzling his nose into her collar bone and taking a deep breath. 
“God, I missed you so much,” he said, pulling her flush to him. She was in an oversized t-shirt and a pair of leggings. It was the very thing he’d been hoping she would be wearing.
Her hand went to the back of his head to stroke her fingers through the dark waves there. “I missed you too.” 
They stayed that way for a while, just holding each other. Quinn felt like he might cry, being back with her. Man, love had turned him into a sap. 
He understood why the older guys were always so anxious to get home to their wives. 
He moved just enough so he could catch her lips with his. A different kind of sigh moved through his body when she returned the kiss. 
After a few minutes of gentle, loving kisses, a loud gurgling came from his stomach, and Sarah laughed as she pulled away. “Let’s get some food into you,” she said, taking his hand and leading him into the kitchen. 
“You sit,” she said, gesturing to the table, “I’ll bring you a plate.” 
After setting a full plate in front of him, she went back to make herself one. He was certain she’d eaten earlier, but didn’t want him to feel alone. It was eight already. All he wanted was to eat and fall into bed with her, letting her hold him. His eyelids seemed to get heavier at the thought. 
“Don’t tell me my food is that boring,” she teased sitting next to him. 
Shaking his head, Quinn tried to blink away the tears welling up in his vision.
Sarah set down her taco and put her hand on his forearm, “what’s wrong?” 
He sniffled. He felt like a kid, coming home from a bad game and crying to his mom. Except this time, the disappointment of loss was soothed by a swell of gratitude like he’d never felt before. 
His voice was thick and a little higher than usual as he said, "I don't know, just coming home to you, and to this,” he gestured at his plate, “I just feel so lucky.”
She smiled, and leaned over a corner of the table to kiss him, “I love you too. Now eat before you get too tired and wake up hungry in the middle of the night.”
He laughed, remembering the first time he’d done that very thing when she started sleeping over. She'd come out with his shirt on, voice and eyes bleary with sleep as she asked what was going on. Her eyes went wide when she flipped on the light and found him with a sandwich in his mouth. 
If he ate too early in the evening, hunger pains would wake him in the middle of the night. Nothing was going to wake him tonight if he had anything to say about it. 
His tears subsided, soothed by her knowledge of him, her scent and the food filling his stomach. 
He put the plates in the dishwasher, as she went about putting away all the ingredients. There were a lot of moving parts to this meal. He didn't even know he had that many food containers in his house. Maybe she had brought them from hers. 
“You can go lay down while I finish this,” she said, glancing over her shoulder. 
Quinn shook his head. He’d been too long without her. He wasn’t about to willingly walk away now. 
When they finally made it into the bedroom, he stripped down to his boxers, and washed his face in the basin beside hers. She removed her leggings, and threw some of the pillows onto the floor. Usually, she would stack them in a chair, but apparently, she was as anxious to get into bed as he was. 
They lay on their usual sides. She’d already seen him cry that day, so he didn’t feel as hesitant to ask for what he wanted. 
“Can you hold me?” he asked. It came out quieter than he thought it would. 
Sarah smiled, and scooted closer to him so their noses nearly touched, and she could bring her arms around him. 
“No like,” he felt his cheeks get hot, “can I be the little spoon?” 
“Sure, roll over.” 
“I can’t. My hip.” 
“What’s wrong with your hip?” she asked. “You told me you were fine." 
He winced, a flash of guilt in his face, "I don't have any major injuries." 
"But you have minor ones?" She pulled back the blanket to get a better look at him. 
“I took that hit and landed right on it in Ottawa, and it’s bruised to high heaven,” he said. “It's not really hurt, but it's tender.”
Her fingers brushed down his side, and despite his exhaustion, his skin still reacted - shivering onto high alert.  She pulled back the band of his boxers to reveal a dark purple bruise that had gotten bigger since the last time he’d looked at it. Apparently sitting on the plane hadn’t helped him at all. 
“Oh, Q,” she said, voice turned nurturing instead of the coddling or "buck up!" he got sometimes from the trainers or his teammates. 
“Here,” she said, rolling on top of him.
If this was any other night, this would play out much differently. He kissed her still, because he’d been thinking about it for too long, and she was here. She was here. He was home, and she was here with her perfect mouth, and her cute, crinkly smile. He couldn't resist her. 
She deepened the kiss, devouring him like she just couldn’t wait any longer. She'd missed him so much. She knew he was tired. He'd been tired all week, but she finally had him back in the city - back in their bed - and she couldn't not. 
Quinn felt himself groan. His hands reacted instinctively, rucking her shirt up, anxious to feel more of her skin. 
Breaking away, she moved her mouth to the spot under his jaw that she knew made him weak. 
“Sarah,” he breathed.
She responded with a slow glide of her tongue. 
“I want you so bad,” he whimpered, “but…” 
She pulled away from his neck to look down at him. "But?” she repeated. 
“I’m so tired, I don't think I can keep it up.” A hot flush spread down his neck and onto his chest, “I’m sorry,” he babbled, “I really, really want to, but can we wait until morning?”
She bit her lip and nodded, swallowing down the hot desire she felt. 
"I'll make it up to you, I swear," he promised. 
Her mouth melted into a smile. "I know you will," she said before pecking him on the lips. 
Sarah rolled off of him, onto the other side of the bed. “Scootch over,” she said. 
He did and she settled, tucking her body against his. 
“Wait, I need my pillow.”
They did an awkward shuffling dance to switch pillows without sitting up. 
Once settled again, she sighed into him. Every part of her was touching him, and he would have given her anything at that moment. He could even feel her nose against the back of his skull. 
He felt supported and loved, and home. Finally home. 
She draped her arm around his chest and he found her fingers with his own, lacing them together. 
“I love you, Sarah,” he whispered. “Thank you.” 
“I love you too Quinn.” Her breath tousled the short hairs on the back of his neck, “I’m so glad you’re back. I missed you.” 
“I missed you so much,” he said, finding a way to somehow pull her closer.
As sleep overtook him, he found himself thinking for the first time in a relationship how much he wanted to be with her forever. How much he wanted to make a real commitment to her. He’d never felt that way before. He should call his dad to see if he could use his grandma’s ring. The thought was startling, and he realized he was getting ahead of himself. First, she needed to move in. He wanted her here. Everything was so natural with her. Finally, he really was home. 
Quinn couldn’t remember ever sleeping so well. He’d slept fitfully on the road trip, despite his exhaustion and usual ability to sleep anywhere. His brothers had been quick to send him funny memes about him looking like a zombie. He came home feeling like a zombie. 
Waking up now, things felt right. He wasn’t sure he could say it in any other way. It all just felt better and brighter. He felt rested, and invigorated for the first time in seven days. He was on his back, and Sarah was tucked against him, on her side. He finally had a day to himself, and he was going to spend every second of it with her. 
Her t-shirt had ridden up through the night, and her bare thigh was pressed against his. 
Spending some time memorizing that feeling, he waited for her to wake up. 
“Hey,” he said quietly after ten minutes when she showed no signs of stirring.
Her eyelashes fluttered, and she tucked her face into her pillow, mumbling something he couldn’t understand. 
He laughed a little, and tried again, this time squeezing the arm around her. 
“What time is it?” she asked, her morning voice hoarse and a bit deeper than usual. 
That voice stirred something in him. It always had. It took him back to the first time she’d slept at his apartment. Waking up next to her was something he could never forget. The way she’d wrasped, “good morning,” before kissing him softly. It was one of his favorite memories. 
He glanced at his watch, “a little after seven.” 
She groaned and tucked her face behind his shoulder, “it’s too early to be up.” 
Laughter bubbled up his throat. “We went to bed at 9. That’s almost 10 hours.” 
Looping her arm over his chest, she somehow managed to pull herself closer to him as her leg covered him, her knee to his opposite hip. “Still too damn early,” she said, settling her head on his chest. 
“If you want me to go back to sleep, straddling my thigh isn’t the way to do it,” he teased. 
“I’m not straddling your thigh,” she protested, “I’m cuddling.” 
“I can still feel all of your skin.” 
She rolled her eyes, “if you want me to be up at seven, you better have a damn good reason, Quinn.” 
Rolling onto his side, Quinn cupped her cheek in his hand. He kissed her gently before rolling on top of her. “Is this a good enough reason?” he asked, working his leg between hers before licking farther into her mouth. 
“Mmmm… I don’t know,” she said, making a big show of shrugging her shoulders, even as her fingers were winding into his hair. 
He pulled back, “you want me to stop?” 
Her big blue eyes looked up at him, looked right through him, and it sent a shockwave through his whole body. God, how had he ever managed without her? 
“No,” she said, voice quiet, the morning hoarseness starting to wear off, “I’m up now.” 
“Good,” he said, “because I am too.” Leaning down to capture her mouth again, his hands pushed her shirt up. 
She pulled back with a groan, “did you just make a dad joke during foreplay?” 
His smile was impish, “maybe. Did you like it?” 
She rolled her eyes even as she was pulling him back down into the kiss, “It’s a good thing I love you, Huggy.”
He groaned at the use of the nickname. “Please don’t call me that in bed,” he begged, moving his mouth to her neck. 
She giggled a little before it bled into a moan. The sound shot straight to his groin. 
He had some theories he wanted to try out. 
Half way through the roadie, he had shared a room with Elias. 
The only explanation for the conversation that followed that night was Quinn's exhaustion. If he were normally rested, he likely wouldn't have brought it up at all. But sitting there mindlessly watching Sports Center, listening to Petey talk to his girlfriend in Swedish, he wondered if he was doing things wrong with Sarah. 
It's not that he felt Sarah was unsatisfied. She didn't seem to fake it, and their connection was only made stronger when they slept together. Even on nights when sex was off the table, but she still stayed over, sleeping in the same bed seemed to solidify their relationship more. 
Still, he worried. He wanted to be good for her, to be the best for her. And maybe their sex life was normal, but it didn’t seem like anything from the romcoms he’d seen, and he wondered if they were missing something. Maybe he wasn’t giving her something she needed.  
Anxiety always came easier when he was tired. That was the only reason he asked Petey what he thought being a good lover meant when he got off the phone.
“Does Emma like everything you do?”
“Everything?” Elias repeated, laughing, “no.” 
“No, like in bed?” Quinn felt his skin get hot. This was not the kind of conversation they usually had. 
Petey's pale skin flushed red. “Are you asking me how my girlfriend likes to have sex?”
“No. I mean maybe? I just mean, I want to make sure Sarah's satisfied, but I'm not sure how to do that.”
“Have you talked to her about it?”
“Not really.”
“I think that's probably your best bet.”
“Yeah. I just feel like there are things I should know.”
“What kinds of things?”
“Like, foreplay stuff.”
“Do you not usually do that?”
“No.” He thought, then amended, “I mean we make out a lot. And she likes when I kiss her neck, so I do that. I get her off with my hands sometimes." 
“Does she seem like she wants more?”
“I don't know.”
They ended up having an extensive conversation in which Petey talked about how Emma liked it. How on nights when they had the time he would give her two or three orgasms with his hands and his mouth before they had sex. 
“She really likes when I suck on her breasts,” he said. “Actually every woman I've been with has liked that. I think Gretta told me that. She was my first girlfriend.”
Quinn had been mentally taking notes the whole time. 
“Honestly,” Elias said, “it's best when I ask her how she wants to be touched and she tells me. That varies from day to day. Sometimes she doesn't even want foreplay.”
So now, Quinn mouthed his way up to her ear, and whispered, “how do you want me to touch you?” His voice was husky and deeper than normal. He’d never sounded like that before, but he'd never wanted to be good for any other woman like this before. 
Her little gasp was followed by her hips tilting into his. Maybe Petey was on to something here. 
“Show me how you want me to touch you,” he said, moving his mouth down to the soft spot under her jaw he knew she liked.
He nibbled it with his lips as their hips surged together. 
Her hands were in his hair. And her fingers tightened as another soft moan escaped her mouth. The next thing he knew, she was sitting up, forcing him back onto his knees. She ripped her shirt off, tossing it somewhere in the room. She was left in a pair of cotton underwear styled to look like men's briefs. They had tiny green flowers all over them and green trim. 
“These are cute,” he said, running a finger along the waistband. 
Her skin quivered under his touch. 
She pulled his mouth to hers before placing his hands on her breasts. “Here,” she breathed against his lips, “touch me here.”
God, if this wasn't the hottest fucking thing he'd ever experienced. Why hadn't he ever thought to ask her what she wanted before? He didn’t have to guess, he just followed instructions. 
Her hands covered his, and she led his fingers to roll her nipples. She arched into his touch and a whine escaped her throat. Her hands slid up to cling to his shoulders. 
Moving his mouth back to the soft spot under her jaw, he listened to her panting breaths for a while. He wasn’t going to last long if she kept that up. 
Time to put another theory to the test. He mouthed down her chest before wrapping his lips around her nipple and sucking. Answers came immediately. 
“Quinn,” she moaned. Her hand cupped his head, encouraging him to stay there. Her hips ground against his own. He couldn’t hold back a moan. 
“Fuck,” she whispered, heat pooling between her legs, “that feels so good.” 
He’d never made her swear in bed like that. A ridiculous amount of pride swam through him.
He moved to the other breast and reveled in the groan that fell from her lips, a little louder this time. 
"I want your mouth all over me," she heard herself say. 
When they first got together, Quinn had been fairly inexperienced. Some due to them learning what the other person needed, and some, she figured, because he was used to quick hookups and had never really been in the kind of relationship where a woman could teach him what she liked. 
He got more bold as they got more comfortable, and she told him what she liked. Still, there were certain things she'd been dreaming about since they met that he seemed too nervous to try. He seemed willing now and she was teetering on the edge.
She whined when he lifted his mouth from her. He gave the puckered nub a kitten lick when she tried to pull him back down. 
“Where else do you want my mouth?” it felt a little dirty to say out loud, but her response had him wishing he’d asked before. 
Her head plopped back on the pillows behind her, and she groaned, louder still. He wondered if he might be able to get her to yell his name. The thought of it made him ache. 
“I,” she panted, “eat me out, please.” Sarah was so turned on at the thought of him finally going down on her that her flirty filter was gone. 
“You want it here?”  he asked, sliding his hand down to cup her, still covered in the cotton briefs. 
“Yes,” she moaned, “God yes. Please, Quinn.”
Quinn had only given oral sex once before. It was with a girl he dated in high school, and she all but forced him between her legs the first time they went further than making out. 
When he had started, not really sure what to do, hoping for a little instruction, she shrieked about him being a selfish lover and stormed out. He hadn't even needed to jack off. The experience was so deflating he hadn't ever tried it again. 
“How do you like it?” He asked now as he peeled the briefs down her thighs. 
He knew what Sarah liked, but the thought of failing her made his heart heavy and his ego ache. He wanted to be good for her. 
He had some idea from watching porn, but he knew by now that was an unreliable source. 
She kicked her underwear off the bed, and she was bare before him. An ache opened up in his chest. How was it possible to love someone so much? It wasn't just lust, even though he felt that too. It was vulnerability and trust made into action. 
“Like you do with your hands,” she said, "except with your tongue. I'll tell you if I need something more. I trust you.”
The anxiety fluttering in his chest calmed a little at her words. He decided it was better to just start. The baseline knowledge he had of her body told him things like the pressure she liked, and where she liked to be touched. 
He stroked his hands over her hips, and settled between her legs. 
“Tell me if you don't like something?”
She nodded, heart hammering with anticipation. 
He leaned in and parted her with his tongue. The sensation was unlike anything he'd ever felt before. Soft and warm and delicate. Also delicious. Sweet, tangy and completely different from anything he'd tasted before. He loved the smell of her when they made love, and this was the same amplified ten fold. God, why had he waited so long?
She gasped and moaned, hips arching up to meet his mouth. Finally feeling his tongue on her was better than any of her fantasies. 
"You taste so good," he groaned.
“Really?” she thought people only said that in books. Men written by women.
Now that he was here, a carnal, competitive need took over. He needed to get her off. It was more than a matter of pride. Now, it was something he couldn't live without.
“So fucking good,” he moaned against her as he licked and kissed trying different motions to see what she liked.
“There, there,” she said, body arching, hands fisting the sheets. “Right there. Don't stop.”
This was the most amazing thing he'd ever done. Part of him wondered why he'd waited so long. Most of him was thankful he'd waited to do it with someone he loved and trusted and who loved and trusted him enough to tell him what she needed. It was his favorite thing about Sarah. 
"Quinn," she moaned, "suck please." 
Sealing his lips to her, he pulled with his mouth. 
Pleasure exploded through her veins. 
The noises - the moans and mewls, the little grunts and gasps she responded with drove him on and nearly drove him out of his mind. 
All of him was more turned on than he ever thought was possible just from giving her pleasure.
Fuck, why had he been scared of this? 
Her fingers suddenly dove into his hair and tugged. He nearly exploded right then. Pulling back slightly, he breathed deeply through his nose to calm down. 
“Quinn,” she whimpered, “I want your fingers.”
He was dreaming. He had to be. Lifting his head, he asked, “what?” 
She whimpered at the sight of his face: chin wet, brown eyes soft with love, pupils blown wide with lust. “Your fingers,” she gasped, “I want your fingers inside me while you do this.”
He groaned. Where had this demanding, dirty talking girlfriend come from? Petey was a genius. 
He went back to work, taking time to kiss and nip her inner thigh before licking her up and down. 
“Keep your tongue there,” she begged. “Yeah, yeah, just like that.” Her hand slid to the back of his head, keeping him where she wanted him. 
He eased a finger into her. Her hips bucked. “Quinn,” she moaned and it was louder than ever. “More.” 
He slid in another, and she rocked with him. 
“I… I…”
He lifted his head a little to look at her. She was practically writhing on the bed. “You look so beautiful right now.”
“Yeah, yeah,” she said, pushing his head down again. “Put that pretty mouth back to work.”
He laughed and lowered down. He found her pulsing nub, and licked it into his mouth, suction gentle but decisive. 
There were a few more desperate moments of Quinn trying his best to please her and to not shoot off too early. It was like walking on the edge of a knife. Hopefully just because it was the first time. 
“Oh, oh Quinn, I - I’m gonna…” she said before his name was wrenched out of her mouth in a strangled cry. 
Her body pulled taught, legs flexing under his hand, as she clenched around his fingers before the tension snapped and she collapsed, limbs limp. 
“Holy shit,” she said quietly as she came back to herself, gently pushing him away from her core. 
Quinn rose onto his knees and wiped his mouth on his arm. “I know,” He said, flopping down next to her. “I had no idea you had that in you.” He felt euphoric, and he hadn't even gotten off. Hearing his name drip from her mouth like that gave him a sense of pleasure and intense satisfaction he hadn't felt before. 
She giggled, riding a high she hadn't felt in a long time. “I knew once you got up the confidence to give me oral, you'd send me to the moon, but goddamn." 
“You…” his brain was swimming, “how did you know it would be good? I've never done it before.”
“Really?” she asked, genuine surprise in her features.
“My first time kind of blew up before she could tell me what to do. I was only sixteen. How did you know?” He asked again.
“We kiss all the time, Quinn. I know the magic you can work with your mouth. I've been fantasizing about it pretty much since we first kissed."
“Holy fuck,” Quinn said quietly as her words sunk in. Four months. He’d been denying her of that for four whole months. “I'm sorry I didn't try sooner.”
She rolled on her side to face him. “I'm glad you tried it now.”
Leaning in, she captured his mouth, slanting into him and rolling them so she was on top. 
Her mouth wound its way down his jaw, over his chest and down his stomach as she moved to kneel between his legs.
“What are you doing?” he asked, his chest rising and falling quickly. 
She glanced up at him, and there was a spark of teasing desire in her eyes he wasn't sure he'd seen before. “Returning the favor.” 
All the air left his lungs in one big whoosh. His thoughts spun. 
“I… you don't have to –” but her mouth was on him again, and he lost the words. 
She didn't love giving blow jobs. She'd done it twice before. Once when they clinched the playoffs, and once when he begged for it explicitly. He knew it was something she endured rather than enjoyed. 
The thought of her mouth on him right now, though, sent his arousal into overdrive.
“I want to,” she said. “You did it for me. I do it for you.”
Yet another reason giving her oral was turning out to be one of the best decisions he'd ever made. Not only had it gotten her off and turned him on more than he thought possible, it made her want to get him off with her mouth. He was definitely buying Petey dinner the next time they were out. 
She slid his boxers off, careful of the bruise, and continued her teasing, mouth tracing over the v line of his right hip. 
“Sarah, please." He was so riled up, he didn't think he could take any of her teasing. 
He felt her lips curl into a smile against his skin. 
His begging had the opposite effect he was hoping for. Instead of sinking a little lower, her mouth started moving back up to his. 
A desperate sounding whine escaped him. 
“Does this work for you too?” She asked before putting her mouth over his nipple. 
Three seconds before that, he would have said no, but her hot soft mouth on him shot a surge of pleasure straight down his spine. A deep growl ripped from his chest and his hips surged up, desperate for any kind of friction. He swore. 
She moved to his other pec and he felt like he might just combust. 
“Sarah, baby, please.” He begged, “please.” 
Her mouth lifted from his chest and he tried to gain control of his breathing. 
“I think that's a yes,” she said, a bit of laughter in her tone. 
Shifting down, she let her lips trail over his stomach again. 
When she finally took him between her lips, the shouted sound he let out was barely human. 
His muscles corded tight, desperately holding himself back from thrusting into her mouth. He was panting praises at her. 
She lifted her head and he whimpered. Had he ever done that before? 
“How do you want it?” She asked before wrapping her lips around the tip of him. 
"I-" He tried, but his thoughts kept getting jumbled. "Like that," he groaned when she ran her tongue under the head. "Can you - can you use your hand?" 
Her fingers wrapped around him, and he mumbled something incoherent even to his ears. 
“Hmm?” She asked not lifting her mouth. 
He couldn't hold back from bucking up at the vibration.
When he settled, she added her hand into the mix, gently twisting with her fingers. Hot, heavy pleasure flooded his limbs, turning them to jello. Oh god, he was in heaven. Her name came out of his mouth, moaned like a prayer. He wanted to worship her for the rest of his life. 
He was so strung out that he couldn't vet any of his thoughts. “I want to come in your mouth so bad.”
She looked up and their eyes locked. This image was going to be branded in his mind forever. He knew it would be a memory he called up on the road when he was missing her. 
She nodded, just slightly and sucked a little harder. 
“Fuck,” he said reverently. She’d never let him come in her mouth before. The thought alone had him tensing up right there. 
He tried to hold back. But feeling her come apart on his tongue had brought him so close to the edge already. Now, she had her mouth and fingers wrapped around him giving him the most amazing head he'd ever received, telling him he could let go in her mouth. All after 10 days without her. It was a losing battle
“I -” he tried to warn her, but his body was its own master, demanding release. He came in a sudden flood of intense light and pleasure that pulsed out to his fingers and toes. 
She made a small noise of surprise, but true to her word didn't pull away until he was spent. Everything in his body went slack except his heart that pounded in his heaving chest. 
Vaguely, he felt her get off the bed and listened to her walk into the bathroom. 
When she came back, laying next to him with her head on his shoulder, she smelled fresh and Minty.
“Did you brush your teeth?” He asked, an edge of a laugh in his voice. 
She winced, “I know I'm supposed to be all sexy and swallow, but I just can't stand the taste of it.”
Laughter bubbled out of his chest. “I don't care if you swallow. I don't really even mind not coming in your mouth, that was just a heat of the moment thing. Thanks for letting me anyway,” he said, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead.
She adjusted so she could kiss his lips. “I'm glad you asked for what you wanted. Thank you for sending me to the moon.”
He pulled her on top of him and kissed her. It was slow and intimate. The kind of kissing no one told him was more intoxicating than all the quick makeout sessions he had when he was younger. 
“Do you think I can get you past it?” He asked. 
“Past what?”
“Past the moon,” he said.  
She laughed. “I mean, I guess anything's possible, but I'm not sure how you're going to top what you just did.”
“Well, I've got all day, and my only plans involve me showing you how much I missed you. So, tell me what to do and I'll take you wherever you want to go.”
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slayfics · 8 months
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Hello! I’ve been reading your posts for a couple weeks now and I love them sm! Muichiro has a place in my heart after season 3 lol. I was wondering if you could do a one shot where the reader saves him from a vital blow from a demon after a bad argument? It hits her in her shoulder and goes almost all the way through her body. So there’s blood and all that stuff. It splashed muichiro in the face and he’s just silent as reader hits the floor. He defeats the demon and reader is just unconscious (not dead) and he freaks? Idk how it would end though? If this sounds absolutely crappy just ignore me 🥹 love your writing!
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You get badly hurt by a demon after a fight with Muichiro.
Warnings: blood
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You couldn't believe after all this time Muichiro still had the nerve to talk down to you. Sure you were still ranked lower than him but you had proven your worth, the days of feeling you didn't deserve respect were long gone.
You cursed the fact that you both were summoned in the middle of an argument to quickly catch a group of demons. Even more, frustration welled up inside you that Obanai had already beaten you both to the demon.
Why were you even summoned when a Hashira was already at the demon? Whatever the case, you and Muichiro quickly got to work attacking the demons with Obanai.
Whether it was due to the reassuring presence of Obanai being another Hashira in the fight, or the argument you were both in right before the fight, you both seemed to be disorganized in the fight.
To the point that you saw Muichiro left an opening for a demon to come right for him. Without thinking you quickly moved yourself between Muichiro and the demon.
The demon's attack went completely through your shoulder splashing blood everywhere. Swiftly Muichiro spun and cut the demon's head off as you fell to the floor.
Obanai had just taken out he last demon and rushed to assess the situation with Muichiro.
Muichiro stared over your body completely in shock as more blood from your wound spilled out to soak his feet.
"What the hell are you doing just standing there!" Obanai barked at Muichiro. Obanai quickly took off his haoir and wrapped it around your wound.
"We have to get her to the Butterfly Mansion right away,"
Muichiro blinked away the tears forming in his eyes, "Right-" He finally spoke.
"Well pick her up!" Obanai commanded, irritated at Muichiro's shock and lack of action.
Muichiro shook his head quickly trying to focus then carefully grabbed you into his arms. Obanai took off in the direction of the Butterfly Mansion and Muichiro followed right behind.
"Why were you both fighting so carelessly?" Obanai asked, as the two Hashria's continued to run.
"We were in the middle of a disagreement when we were summoned," Muichiro spoke.
"Hmm- I see," Obanai responded.
"Iguro..." Muichiro called from behind.
"Yes, Tokito?"
"She'll be alright won't she?"
"If we are fast enough," Obanai answered.
You woke up in the Butterfly Mansion to the sight of a misty-eyed Muichiro sitting across from you. Immediately he stood up when your eyes opened. You didn't feel any pain, actually the opposite you couldn't feel the right side of your body.
"Tokito?" You called hazily looking at the Hashira.
"Do you need anything? How do you feel? Are you ok?" He bombarded you with questions.
"I can't really feel anything yet," You answered. 'What happened?"
"I wasn't paying attention and you took an attack from a demon to save me," he explained.
"Oh..." You started to have some memories of the event flooding back to you.
"Are you ok?" You asked.
Muichiro scoffed, "Yes thanks to you," He answered. "I shouldn't have been so careless," He said, looking down at the floor.
"It's ok- we weren't really in a good mindset. I'm sorry we fought," you said.
"No, you don't need to apologize. I'm the one that let you down. I was useless in that fight," he scolded himself.
"You got me back here safe. It's ok, don't be so hard on yourself," You tried to console him.
"No, I can't take credit for that either. I stood frozen while Iguro took control of the situation. You should be thanking him, not me," Muichiro said, tears beginning to form in his eyes.
"Tokito, it's ok. It was just a bad day. Nothing we can't overcome," you pleaded with him.
"No, I- I'm sorry I should go-" He said, turning to walk out and get one of the butterfly girls.
"No!" You yelled at the Hashira. "Don't leave me please!"
"You really want my company after the harsh things I said and my negligence in today's fight," he said bitterly.
"You're so aggravating sometimes, Tokito! Just come here," You said sternly, swallowing a lump in your throat.
Muichiro reluctantly moved closer to you. You reach out for his hand bringing it to your lips and gently placing a kiss.
"Stop being so difficult," you commanded. Finally, Muichiro's shoulders relaxed a bit and a smile found a way to his face.
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Thank you so much for the request I hope you enjoy it~
Tags~
@aeolia18 @yandere-kou @sakurasunkiss @hashiroses @plvuii @snowmist-hashira
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215 notes · View notes
ragingbookdragon · 1 year
Text
A Buck's As Good As Any
Simon "Ghost" Riley x John "Soap" MacTavish x Reader
Word Count: 1.5K Warnings: Explicit Language, Mentions of blood and cleaning
Author's Note: @lazybutsmexy Sara inspired the OT3 and now we're all gonna fall into this hole together. :) -Thorne
**********************************************************************
It had bothered him for days, and Ghost knew it by the time he finally came to him and brought it up.
A mid-Wednesday afternoon, drizzling and dreary in Manchester like usual, Ghost was content to spend the entire day wrapped in the gray sheets and heavy comforter of their bed, resting up on all the sleep he never got whenever they were working. Soap had left the bed earlier a few hours ago to go shopping, only returning minutes after. He heard the footsteps coming the way to the bedroom.
“Do you think she left us and went back to the US because she was uncomfortable?”
Ghost cracked an eye open, staring at Soap who stood in the entrance. “Why?”
“Because she didn’t say ‘See you soon’ or anything. She just left. Didn’t wake us up.” He frowned. “She would’ve told us if she was uncomfortable being with us, wouldn’t she? I mean I know she said she wasn’t, but what if she was? What if maybe she felt like she was intruding on us? What if we didn’t—”
“You’re thinking too hard about it, Johnny,” Ghost muttered, shutting his eyes. “Relax. We’ll catch a flight Friday to the mountains to see her and ask her ourselves.”
“We are?” he asked.
“We’re gonna if it’s going to keep you from wanking all the time.”
“I am not wanking.”
“Wanking, whining, same thing.”
“You’re such an ass.”
***
“Is this…really where she lives when she’s not working?” Soap asked, staring at the small, cozy wood cabin.
Ghost nodded. “That’s what Price said. This is the address and from what the neighbors said, this is it.” He walked up the steps. “Her Dodge is here…maybe she’s home.” He knocked on the door, waiting for someone to answer, but after a few moments no one did and he knocked again. “She’s not home.”
“Where do you think she is?”
He shrugged. “Call her.”
Soap took out his phone, dialing her number; he stared at Ghost as it rang, impatiently tapping his foot until the line clicked. “Hello? Dame? Are you there?” He glanced at Ghost as a tapping echoed across the line. “Dame? She’s not answering.”
Ghost took the phone and put it on speaker. “Dame, single click yes, double no. Are you near your cabin.
Click.
“Are you injured?”
Click-click.
“Are you okay?”
Click.
“What are you doing?” Soap asked and Ghost glared at him.
“She’s obviously doing something where she can’t talk.”
Click.
“What the hell’s there to do here? We’re in the middle of nowhere?”
“We’re in the middle of a giant fucking forest, Johnny. What do you possibly think she could be doing if she wasn’t in town or in her house?”
Soap blinked. “Is she hunting maybe? Didn’t she mention a season or something on the last mission.”
Click.
“How long will you be, Dame? Less than an hour?”
Click.
Ghost nodded. “Are you almost done?” They awaited another click, yet it never came. “Dame? Are you—”
A crack echoed across the land and the two turned in the direction of the noise, watching a flock of birds escape the tops of the trees in the distance.
Her voice came over the line. “I’ll be back to the cabin in about ten minutes. Key’s underneath the third stepping stone in the rock garden.”
The line went dead and the two looked at one another before shrugging and finding the key.
***
They stood on the porch and waited for her to return, squinting into the distance as an ATV drove up the driveway and she pulled up, turning the engine off. “What are you boys up to over this side of the ocean?” she asked, slinging the rifle off her back to lay at the side of the four-wheeler. “Sorry I didn’t talk. This guy walked right in front of me when you called. I couldn’t risk him getting away.”
Ghost and Soap walked over, seeing the deer laying across the back of the ATV, a gunshot through its chest. They watched as she picked the buck up with a grunt and started carrying it to the shed behind the cabin; they followed.
“We were coming to talk,” Soap said, curiosity in his eyes as she opened the shed door with one hand, holding the deer’s feet with the other before dropping it inside. “Isn’t that heavy?”
“About one-fifty,” she said, shoving the metal hook through the deer’s back legs before she pulled away and hauled it up in the air. “So why did y’all come? Y’know I was gonna be back in a few weeks, right?”
“What?” his voice was pitched in confusion as she slid a bucket under the carcass.
“It’s hunting season here,” she muttered, wielding the cleaning knife with expert precision. “Step back, or you’ll get guts and blood on you.” Neither moved as she dug the knife into the deer’s chest, cutting cleanly all the way to its belly. “I tend to fly home during the seasons so I can shoot some game to have meat when I get back.”
They watched as she cleaned with skill, seemingly unbothered by the steam rising around them. The scent of blood was thick in the air and Soap had to step back outside to breath a little; Ghost remained. “What are y’all here to talk about?” Dame asked. “Can’t imagine it’s something unimportant since y’all flew halfway across the world.”
Before Soap could even say anything, Ghost deadpanned, “Johnny was afraid you were uncomfortable being in a relationship with both of us. That you were intruding. So, here we are.”
“Ghost!” Soap griped and she laughed.
“Oh no, I’m not uncomfortable boys,” she said. “Like I said, it’s hunting season. I had to get back to get a good buck before season ended. Can’t shoot bucks out of season or I’ll get fined and lose my license.”
“What’s a buck?”
“Male deer. Doe is a female,” she explained, pulling the deer by the leg to its antlers. “He’s about a thirteen pointer.” A grin pulled her lips. “Oh man, I can’t wait for Jackson to see this. He’s gonna shit a brick.”
“Who’s Jackson?” Soap asked, crossing his arms over his chest and she snickered.
“Easy there, boy, he’s an old friend of mine. And I say old because he’s seventy-five.”
“Oh…”
Ghost glared at him. “Will you quit being jealous? She’s not seeing anyone but us.”
“Don’t be so hard on him, Simon. He can’t help it.” She smiled at them. “This is going to take me an hour or so. Y’all go inside and get comfortable. It’s cold out here.”
Ghost didn’t have to be told twice, marching back up the way they’d come to go inside, yet Soap remained and she looked back at him.
“What’s wrong, darlin’?” she questioned, wiping her hands on the apron. “You’ve got thinking eyes on.”
Soap shifted his weight between his feet. “Are…are you sure you’re not uncomfortable with this?”
Dame sighed and set the knife down. “John, at first…I was. I didn’t feel like it was a good idea to come between, no, join you and Simon. It did feel like I was intruding in a relationship. But,” she said calmly, gazing at him with a softness. “I know that you feel the same about me that you feel about Simon. It’s how I feel about both of you and how he feels about us.” She made sure her hand was dry, even if it was covered in blood, and held it out for him to take; he did so. “I didn’t leave because I was uncomfortable. I left to come home and get things organized for next season.”
Soap frowned. “You only left a note. You didn’t wake us up.”
“I know,” she murmured. “And that’s on me. My flight left early, and I didn’t want to disturb you both. We three barely get enough sleep as it is.” She squeezed his hand. “Next time, I’ll wake you both up. I promise.”
“Next time,” he griped. “We’re coming with you.”
She laughed. “Alright, boy, if that’s how you feel about it.” Pulling away, she grabbed the knife again. “Now go inside, would you? I’ll be back in when I’m done.”
“Can Ghost and I go into town?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because without me, you’re gonna get in a bar fight with some good ole boys and I do not want to explain to Sheriff Doherty why my boyfriends beat the shit outta the entire bar.” When he said nothing, she turned, seeing him wearing a dopey smile. “What.”
“You called us your boyfriends.”
“Go inside or I’ll clean you with this knife next,” she threatened, waving the knife at him and he raised his hands in surrender.
“Fine, fine, lass, I’m goin’.”
As he turned, she called out, “John?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m glad you and Ghost came to see me.” She smiled at him. “I missed you both.”
He smiled back at her. “We missed you.”
647 notes · View notes
barzysunflower · 7 months
Note
mat arriving from training camp and notices that y/n is taking a shower and goes in with her SMUT pleaseee
your ask is my command :) warning: SMUT ahead!!
You turned the water off and started gently lathering your hair in shampoo. You spent a couple of minutes massaging and soaping up your hair.
Suddenly, the bathroom door opened and with a loud shriek you dropped to your knees.
"It's me!" Your boyfriend, Mat, quickly explained with a laugh when he saw you on the shower floor.
"Oh my god! You scared me," you nearly screamed at him. "I thought you said you'd be back at four."
"I said latest four. I didn't really know what the schedule would be like today," he said as he opened the glass shower door. A cold wind hit you, making you shiver, but you gladly accepted his outstretched hand to help you stand back up.
You gave him a quick kiss, then closed the door to keep the cold out. "How was your first day back?"
"The absolute best," he said with a huge grin that you could make out even through the steamed glass. "I'm so pumped! Skating with the boys again and seeing some of the new kids. This is gonna be a great season."
"What are you doing?," you asked, instead of answering him, when you saw him start to undress. Before you knew it, the shower door opened again and a naked Mat walked in.
"Joining you." He grinned and leaned over to kiss you, before turning the water back on. "Why are you showering in the middle of the day anyway?"
He shifted the both of you around so that the stream of water could wash the shampoo out of you hair. "You went back to work, working hard, and I suddenly got motivated to go to the gym." You chuckled and brushed your hand over his abs. "Need to keep up with those muscles."
He pulled you into him with a chuckle and pressed his lips against yours. The kiss quickly deepened, both you growing desperate for more, pulling at each other. Mat too was soaking wet now and only when the water in your face got too much for you did you pull away.
"I wasn't done with my shower," you whispered breathlessly as Mat gently sucked on your neck.
"I can help with that." He took the bar of soap from the ledge and gently started gliding it along your body. He started with your arms and shoulders, gently massaging them getting you to relax into his touch. He moved on to your front, paying close attention to your nipples, gently tugging at and circling them. You sighed in pleasure. Your knees were getting weaker and weaker so you gripped his shoulders for support.
Finally, he dropped to his knees to wash your lower half. He soaped up your legs and butt, again massaging your muscles until you had to lean into the shower wall for support.
"Mat," you whined eventually when it seemed that he was purposefully avoiding one area. He looked up grinning like a devil and finally set the soap aside. With every heavy breath you grew more impatient and needy. Another needy whine finally got him to move into action.
His long finger finally slipped between your core, parting your lips. They curled, moving back and forth, teasing your entrance. "Maty." He was teasing you, and usually you liked it quite a bit, but that massage had already worked you up so much, you couldn't take this right now.
He slipped one finger inside and you almost toppled over. "Good?" God, he was so vain, but he had a point. He was that good. Before you could make a comeback, he slipped two more fingers in your pussy. He moved them quickly, curling to hit your gspot. You threw your head back with a load moan.
Suddenly, his fingers were gone. "No," you sighed at the loss, but he used his free hand to lift your leg into his shoulder which gave him space to bury his face in your core. "Oh, fuck yes."
Now his tongue was circling and sucking on your clit. You cried out, it was too much, but you hips still rocked against his face chasing your orgasm that was fast approaching. Your hands buried in his hair, scratching his scalp spurring him on to keep going.
Slowly, your toes started to curl and a wonderful sensation crept up your spine as your orgasm came crashing over you. You cried in ecstasy, bending over to keep your shaking legs from letting you down.
Mats big hands kept you steady as he stood up and pulled you into him to let you calm down in his arms. He cradled you, pressing little kissed to your face until you finally opened your eyes.
"Love you," you whispered.
"Love you," he whispered back, before kissing you deeply. "Let's move this to a flat surface, shall we?"
"I wanted to do a hair mask." He laughed. "What? I didn't expect you to be home so early. I had a whole plan."
"Fine," he said, still laughing. "Do your hair mask. It's not like I just put all this effort in..." He took a step back and opened the shower door.
"Where are you going?" You pouted.
"I actually kinda showered earlier already." You chuckled and kissed him. "Do your thing, but just get ready to take another shower after I'm done with you later."
"Can't wait."
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Text
The Graduation Lineup
Ship: Steve Harrington x Henderson!reader
Summary: Billy Hargrove comes between you and Steve at graduation—but only by last name. Additionally, you finally find out Steve's middle name (among other things).
Word Count: 5,899 words
Warnings: Billy, Stancy mention, flashbacks (aka weird timeline/narration), little bit of self-pity from Steve, fluff
Note: Set in season 2! Also pretend Tommy's last name comes after Henderson so that you get stuck between him and Steve.
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☟ Continue below the fold ☟
Graduation practice was held inside the school gym. You'd been there for an hour at least, waiting for it to start and then going through the list of names to get everyone in the right seat and spot in line. They were on F now. Your leg bounced where you sat, but from boredom, not from nerves. While everyone else was panicking about who they would have to sit next to for the entire ceremony, you knew who you would be next to—and you were happy with it. It was the same boy you were already sitting next to: Steve Harrington.
It was a little weird, you thought, that it all worked out so perfectly. That there were no other Hs separating Harrington and Henderson. That Harrington was the one you had gotten so close to over the past four years, but particularly close to in the last semester alone.
The vice principle got through the Fs and into the Gs. Soon.
"You alright?" he asked you, seeing your bouncing leg.
You nodded. "Just impatient."
Steve smirked, a signature King Steve smirk he hadn't quite shaken. "Got somewhere to be, Henderson?"
"I have to pick up Dustin from Mike's, they all had a sleepover last night. Not that Dustin minds staying over a little longer, but Mom does. She doesn't like him being out of her sight for too long these days."
Steve's eyes went glassy, like they did when he thought about what happened that night for a little too long. "Yeah, well... Can't blame her for that one."
"I don't," you said. "Not when Dustin still has nightmares."
Shock flickered across his face. He opened his mouth but then—
"STEVE HARRINGTON!"
He stood, grinning down at you. "See you in a minute."
You gave him a tiny wave goodbye as he walked away and waited a second for your own name to be called. The vice principle watched Steve take his seat, then looked down at his list.
"WILLIAM HARGROVE!"
Your heart stopped. What? Shit. You'd forgotten about Billy. You bit back a groan, glancing around the gym to try and spot him. There was no movement.
Of course you'd forgotten about Billy—he wasn't even here. Not to mention, he hadn't been here for eleven years. It had just been you and Steve next to each other for a solid eleven years. Steve on one side of you, and his (former) best friend Tommy on the other. Tommy had always been pissed that you separated them, but Steve had never minded, and he certainly didn't now.
"Not here today?" the vice principle said. "Alright, the next student should leave the seat next to Steve open for him." He looked back down at his list and called your name.
You walked to your spot—next to the empty seat—as if in a trance. You sat and looked over at Steve, who looked just a blindsided as you.
Your gaze dropped to Billy's empty seat. "But..."
For some reason, it felt like a betrayal. It felt like the world was ending.
You're overreacting, you told yourself. Just calm down.
But you had been next to Steve for eleven years. Every roll call they organized you by graduating class; every assembly; every Department of Education required testing. You had been in the seat next to Steve for your PSATs and SATs, stealing glances to find him sitting with his eyes huge, not a thought in his head, and trying so hard not to giggle. Then laughing about it after, when the proctors let you all leave, and the two of you exchanging a knowing look the moment you left the classroom.
Over time, especially after the demodogs, Steve grew to be something like your best friend, although, if asked, you'd probably say Nancy was your best friend. You'd grown up with her, too, when Dustin spent the night at Mike's.
(Which made you feel slightly like a traitor when, after all that had happened between her and Steve, you couldn't help but tolerate him enough to like him.)
But you also knew what happened that night in the Byers' house. You knew Billy and Steve had gotten into a fight bad enough to knock Steve unconscious and leave him banged up and bloody. You knew Billy hated him more than ever after that, even though it had been Max who finally knocked Billy out, and you knew it was the promise Max extracted from Billy that kept him from trying to finish the fight with Steve "properly."
So you knew that the look on Steve's face was not just from being separated after eleven years. You knew it was also from terrible fear, overwhelming fear.
The vice principle had gotten to the Js. You hadn't heard any of them, hadn't even noticed Tommy H. sit next to you. You just stared at that empty seat where Billy should have been—where you should have been.
~❊~
You considered yourself fond of Steve Harrington.
He'd saved your brother's life, after all, and the lives of Dustin's friends. Dustin had wasted no time in telling you just how great his new hero was, despite the fact that he was falling asleep in the back of the car when you'd rushed to Steve's house to pick him up, late at night.
"And he took his bat—the one I told you about, with all the nails, that one—and he just started bashing with it. And then, and then, and then, when the demodog got on the roof of the bus, he pushed us away so it couldn't kill us!" He smiled sleepily in the back, visible in your rearview mirror. "You shoulda been there. You shoulda seen it! He was awesome, just...just so awesome... So bitchin'."
You would have reprimanded him for his language (even though it wasn't going to stop him), but he was already asleep, without even finishing his story.
Had it surprised you? A little bit. The King Steve you had known was nothing like the Steve in Dustin's story, but you didn't doubt Dustin. You'd seen a change in Steve the past semester or so. But you'd sat next to him for eleven years, gotten to see a side of him that he didn't let the rest of the school see. And when you'd gone to pick up Dustin, the boy before you was deserving of your sudden fondness for him.
"Hey," he said, greeting you from where he leaned against his car, next to the open door revealing Dustin in the back. "I would have waited for you at the Byers', but I know this is closer, and it's late, so—"
Dustin shouted your name, hopped out of the car, and ran to you, hugging your legs tightly. He'd pretended to be fine when Steve called, but you could tell he was terrified and glad the whole thing was over from how tightly he hugged you.
You looked up at Steve, leaning down just enough to wrap your arms around Dustin's shoulders. "I can't thank you enough, Steve, really." He waved away your thanks, but you talked over him. "Seriously, Steve. Thank you. If anything had happened to him, I would've..." You looked down at Dustin, at a loss for words. "I don't know what I would've done."
"Yeah. Just..." Steve shrugged. He seemed embarrassed to be standing at his car, giving back your brother like two divorced parents and their child. "He needed help and...I was around."
You prodded Dustin toward the car. "Go get in the car. The back, I've got too much stuff in the passenger seat."
He nodded, stifling a yawn and heading to the car without protest.
You looked back at Steve. "Thank you. Again."
Steve nodded, his eyes locked on yours. "Any time."
Without really realizing it, you closed the distance between you and Steve and threw your arms around him, squeezing him tightly and trying not to cry into his shoulder. He stood frozen for a moment, but then his arms came around you and squeezed. For some reason, you remembered he was dating Nancy Wheeler at that exact moment.
"Hey..." His voice was impossibly soft. "Hey, it's okay. He's okay. They're all okay."
You pulled away from him, sniffling and wiping your eyes. "I... I'm sorry. I don't know why I..." You shook your head. "Long, hard day, I guess."
"Don't worry about it," he said, in a tone so gentle and kind that you didn't.
So yes—you were fond of Steve, and that fondness grew when he visited more and more and more often to visit Dustin, or take him somewhere when you couldn't, and you learned through Dustin's endless chattering that Steve and Nancy had broken up a while ago, so you felt a little less guilty about the hug.
You considered Steve your best friend. You might have considered him more than that, if not for your friendship with Nancy.
(Although, did that really matter, when she was happy with Jonathan and comfortably over Steve?)
But you were far less fond of Billy Hargrove.
In fact, you were quite positive that you despised Billy Hargrove.
Even before knowing what he had done to Steve, to your brother and his friends, you had hated him. You had seen him antagonize everyone, from the poor, already outcast nerds, to the popular clique like Steve. Everybody suffered at the hands of Billy, one way or another. Even Max—or, perhaps, especially Max.
Regardless, you hated Billy. And now you had to sit between him and Tommy H, instead of next to your best friend? God, these were going to be a rough couple of hours.
~❊~
On your way out of the gym, you found Steve waiting for you at the door.
"I know you've gotta go pick up Dustin, but after that, do you wanna—"
"Steve, I will do anything you want as long as you let me vent. I can't believe I'm stuck next to Billy Hargrove," you complained.
He snorted. "Yeah, believe me, you're not alone there. Jesus, I wanna punch him again."
"Hey." You put a hand on his chest, stopping him. "Don't start anything you can't finish."
Steve brushed you off and kept walking. "I didn't say I was going to, just that I want to. And, believe me, I really, really want to."
"We'll just ask Max to do it."
He groaned. "Don't remind me that I needed a twelve-year-old to fight my battles for me."
"She's thirteen." Steve gave you a look. You giggled. "Alright, alright. I'll leave you alone."
He pushed the front door of the school open and held it for you, following you out. "Okay, so, you need to vent, I want to go out—milkshakes later?"
"Yes, please," you nearly groaned. "But you do realize Dustin is going to want to come, right?"
Steve rolled his eyes. "You don't have to tell him. Just...bring him home and I'll pick you up at one?"
You rolled your eyes back at him. "The instant you show up at our door, Dustin's Steve-senses are going to tingle and he's going to hop in the front seat before I can. He's practically attached at the hip to you."
Steve laughed. "You have a point there. Alright, fine—Dustin, too."
You split away from him to head to your car, only for him to follow you. You realized he'd parked next to you. "We'll meet you at Benny's!" you said, getting into the front seat. He nodded slowly and waved you off. You returned the wave and left the school parking lot behind.
It was only after Steve was just a figure in your rearview mirror that it dawned on you he'd phrased the whole thing differently from just a regular hang-out with the group.
"But after that—"
"I want to go out."
You glanced back out your window, not daring to identify meaning of the twist of anticipation in your chest.
~❊~
Dustin slurped loudly on his almost-finished milkshake. You and Steve, who were only halfway through your own milkshakes, made eye contact over your glasses and giggled.
Your little brother looked up from his glass. "What? What's funny?"
"Nothing," the two of you said in unison. You glanced back up at him and your stomach did flips. The expression on his face looked like your fondness felt. It looked like the face Nancy had described to you, back when she was still sort-of in love with Steve—before Barb died, and before the Upside Down.
You and Nancy lay spread out on her bed, your legs hanging over the end of her bed, her feet curled up behind her, her knees at her pillows. Your hears were right next to each other, turned toward each other so you could see the huge smile on Nancy's face.
She was half an hour deep into telling you about her date with Steve. "And he just...he had this look on his face, you know? Like there was nothing else that mattered. Like I was the only thing left in the world. The only girl left." Without even realizing it, she had brought her hand up to her hair, curling it in her fingers. "His eyes, they were so...so soft and so open. And his hair was falling into his face, he'd been blowing it out of his eyes for hours, it was so cute, ridiculously cute, but he stopped trying to get it out of his face when I giggled at him."
You giggled at her. "You are so in love with him, admit it!"
Her grin got impossibly bigger. "That...that's the thing. I think he wanted to say it to me."
Your eyes widened. "He was gonna tell you he loved you?!"
"I think so," she whispered. "But then the door opened, and it was loud, rowdy teenagers, so we just glanced over at them and started to laugh and—" She giggled. "And then it was gone. But it was there. He wanted to say it to me." She paused and, in a whisper, added, "And I think I wanted to say it back."
You shrieked with joy, reaching for her and tickling. "Nance, oh my God!"
She giggled, batting her hands away. "Stop it, stop it, I can't breathe!"
"Have you told Barb yet?"
Nancy's mood darkened a tad too much for your liking. "I don't think she'd like it. She's not a...huge fan of Steve."
"Oh, come on, if you're happy, she'll be happy for you, right?"
Nancy rubbed her arms. "I don't know. I hope so?"
"Just tell her, Nance, she'll be okay. She'll get it." You grinned at her again. "Oh my God, I can't believe it, you're in love with Steve Harrington!"
You tore your eyes away from Steve, looking back down at the milkshake he had insisted on buying for you.
"Do you think they're going to say our middle names when we graduate?"
"Huh?" You looked up. That expression of Steve's was gone. "Our middle names?"
He shrugged. "Yeah. You know, we're just walking up and they're saying our whole names."
You blinked at him.
"They're supposed to," Dustin said beside you. Your heads turned toward him.
"What?"
"They're supposed to say your middle names. At least, most high schools do it for graduation. Did they not do it during rehearsal today?"
"No," Steve said. He groaned, thumping his head into the table. "Damn it."
"Why?" you asked, giggling at his melodrama.
He lifted his head back up, sipped on his milkshake, and said, "I hate my middle name. I hate it! It's so...stupid."
You bit your lip, trying not to laugh again. "Well, now you have to tell me what it is."
Steve scoffed. "Absolutely not."
You leaned forward across the table. "Tell me."
"No," he insisted.
"Yes!"
"No way!"
You found Steve's foot with your own under the table, making him jump. "Come on, Stevie... Just tell us!"
"No!"
"We're gonna find out anyway," Dustin piped up from beside you. "They're gonna say it at graduation!"
Steve shook his head resolutely. "No. They might not, because they didn't at practice, and if they didn't, I'm not embarrassing myself by telling you now."
You rolled your eyes at him. "It can't be that bad. No parent would name their child something that awful."
He snorted. "You have clearly never met my parents."
"No, I have not, but now I would like to," you said. You'd heard him complain about his father being a "grade-A asshole" before, a phrase Nancy had confirmed he'd used multiple times about his father, but you'd never seen just how bad he was.
Steve shook his head, going back to his milkshake. "No, you don't," he said quietly. The look in his eyes—like a sad, lost, kicked puppy—shut you up effectively. So you let it go, drinking your milkshake happily.
Dustin twirled his straw around in the remnants of his whipped cream. "Did I tell you about the project Mr. Clarke gave us? I might need help setting it up, but he wants us to make a machine out of stuff we have around the house."
Steve brightened. "Is it a Rube Goldberg machine? I remember those! I think I used mine to open the door to my patio..."
"Yeah!" Dustin grinned. "Mike, Lucas, Will, Max and I have a contest to see which of us can make the best one. I already know Mike's getting Nancy's help, and Will's getting Jonathan's, and I think Max and Lucas are collaborating to make two separate projects, so I could really use you guys to help..."
In amongst Dustin's chatter, you glanced toward Steve, finding a small smile on his face as he watched the kid talk animatedly. Dustin pulled a napkin toward himself and started sketching out vague plans for his machine. You felt Steve's foot move beside yours. You glanced over at him as he started playing a subtle game of footsie with you under the table.
You stifled a giggle, smiling at him in a way that was far too friendly—or, rather, not friendly enough. That look came back on his face, the lovey dovey look Nancy had gushed so much over. You understood why now. Had the roles been reversed, you would have gone straight to her to tell her all about the way Steve Harrington looked at you like he was in love with you.
That tight feeling in your chest came back, a simmering, traitorous hope nestling in your heart and not once listening to the screams of your brain that you should not, absolutely should not, fall in love with your best friend's ex.
Steve propped his head up with his hand, that dreamy look in his eyes intensifying. His lips pursed slightly before they fell apart, pure wonder in that small, involuntary motion.
To hell with not falling in love with your best friend's ex.
You lifted your foot a little higher, catching the cuff of his jeans and slowly but surely tugging up. Steve gulped, pink dusting his cheeks. You felt a brief but distinct shiver of glee.
Dustin pushed his empty cup away from him, the scraping on the table drawing your attention away from Steve. For a moment, you feared Dustin had caught sight of your not-so-subtle flirting and was about to call you out on it, but then he yawned.
"Can we go home?" he asked you, his sudden tiredness evident in his voice.
"You didn't sleep at all last night at Mike's, did you?" you asked with a sigh. "Because if you had, this sugar would be keeping you bouncing on the walls for the next four to five hours."
He shrugged. "It was a long campaign." His eyes fluttered, his head drooping. His body slid toward you, your shoulder being the only thing keeping him upright anymore.
Love and guilt crashed over you at the same time. "Oh, don't fall asleep on me here, I can't carry you to the car anymore, Dusty—"
"It's okay, I've got him," Steve said. He paid the bill in cash and got up from his side of the booth, gently pulling Dustin out from under the table and out of the restaurant. You followed, a glimmer of warmth in your chest. You'd heard Dustin and the others jokingly refer to Steve as their dad; now you could see why.
You unlocked the car for Steve and he put Dustin in the passenger's seat and buckled him in. Dustin mumbled softly—you were quite sure it was a little 'thank you'—and Steve closed the door as gently as he could.
Steve turned back to you, his hands going to his hips. "He's all yours."
"You'd make a great dad, Steve," you said gently, unable to stop yourself, or keep the gentle smile off your face. And when he smiled back at you, you felt like you had flashed ten years into the future, a mom standing and watching her husband carry their sleeping child to the car, doing everything in his power not to wake him.
"I've, uh, always wanted to be one," Steve said, the admission quiet but confident. "Ever since I knew I could be."
"Oh, Stevie..."
He rubbed the back of his neck. "What? It's just...I like the idea. Of being able to be there for someone and guide someone through life and have a family of my own, you know? Like—a big one. A big, happy family."
"I'm not judging you, Steve," you said, hearing the defensiveness in his voice. "I'm not. It's cute. It's really cute. I'm glad that you know what you want in your future."
He sighed, kicking the ground. "Yeah, well. Doesn't help to know what I want if I can't get there."
You raised an eyebrow and waited for an explanation.
Steve shrugged awkwardly, looking the most helpless you'd ever seen him. "There aren't exactly a line of girls just waiting to make King Steve's dreams come true." He bit his lip. "They just want me for a night, if they even want me at all, and then I don't—" He stopped himself short, taking a deep breath, his eyes dropping to the asphalt beneath you. "I'm sorry, this isn't... This isn't the time or place for this. I'm sorry."
You stepped closer to Steve, leaving only a few inches between you. "Hey," you said softly, bringing his gaze up from the ground and back to you. "It's okay. I understand." You caught his hand in yours. "Steve?"
He hummed, his gaze still on your hand holding his.
"You meant for tonight to be a date, didn't you?"
He blushed, but very slowly, he nodded.
Your heart fluttered in your chest. You hesitated, then said, "Do you want a hug?"
The question very nearly made Steve burst into tears. He nodded, accepting your arms around him instantly. He squeezed tightly and you returned the pressure, sensing he needed it. "I'm sorry," he whispered into your ear. "If it was weird, I'm sorry, I should have made it more clear that it was meant to be a date—"
Your hand drifted behind his hand, tangling into his hair. "Don't apologize. You don't have to apologize for wanting to be wanted, Steve. I should have known you wanted it to be just us—and not on babysitting duty." You bit your lower lip, possessed by a sudden boldness. "And, for what it's worth, I'd want you for more than a night."
He went tense and then lax in your arms. "I... What?" He leaned away from you, just enough to see your face but not enough to leave your arms. He whispered your name. "What are you saying?"
You offered him a tiny smile. "I think you know, Steve."
"Say it," he breathed. "Please. Please, I want to hear you say it."
You pressed your forehead to his as his hand lifted to your cheek, fingers brushing over your skin with a reverence you'd never felt before. "I want you for more than one night, Stevie. I want as many night as you'll give me."
The sound he made was both holy and sinful. You really hoped the windows to your car were closed, because that was not a sound you wanted Dustin hearing—especially not from Steve, not while you were wrapped up in his arms and he was in yours.
Steve moved before you did, leaning in but giving you the time and the chance to back away from him. You did the opposite, meeting him in the middle and kissing him softly.
Nancy had not done his kisses justice in her descriptions of them. Though, you had to give her credit, because it was next to impossible to find a good way to describe the gentle pressure of his mouth on yours. There was certainly nothing to compare it to, except for that heady, wonderful feeling of getting out of trouble scot-free, or that beautiful feeling when a choir sings a perfectly arranged chord in a high-ceilinged building.
You whispered his name into his mouth, a prayer on your lips, a desperate cry for more of him. He hummed into your mouth, sending shivers down your spine, and his hands gripped your hips, pulling you even closer to him and then wrapping around you once more.
"Every night, Steve," you whispered against him when he stopped kissing you to breathe, though his lips remained against yours as his chest heaved. "I want you every night."
He groaned. "Don't say that," he whispered. "Don't say it if you don't mean it."
You cupped his face in your hands. "I wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it. I want you, Stevie. All of you, all of the time."
He whimpered. It was a beautiful sound.
"You know..." His words were choppy, split up by his heavy breaths. "If it weren't for your brother in the car, I'd take you home if you'd let me." You opened your mouth, but he put a finger your lips. "Shhh, don't tell me. Don't tell me if you'd let me. Don't let me know what I'm missing out on."
You smiled at him, toying with the hairs at the back of his head. "Kiss me one more time, Stevie. Please, baby."
He grinned. "Well, because you asked so nicely..." And his lips were on you again, and it took everything in you not to moan your relief that he had kissed you again.
Heaven. His kiss was like absolute heaven.
When he finally let go of you, the air between you had changed, filled with a pleasant glee. For the first time in a long time, you saw that Steve's eyes were bright.
"Get your brother home," he told you. "And I'll see you tomorrow. Oh, and, one more thing?"
You reached for his hand, caressing his skin. "Yeah?"
"How about we keep this between us for a few days? Just until graduation." He grinned. "Surprise everybody. I'll walk across the stage and stop to wait for you and we kiss and walk off together—"
"You're forgetting something," you said, shaking your head. "Billy's between us."
Steve's face fell. "I could...wait until he's gone?"
You laughed. "Stevie..."
He sighed. "Well, it was a good idea while it lasted, right?"
"It was cute," you agreed. "Just like you are."
Steve beamed.
"Don't worry—we'll still surprise them all," you said. "We'll just wait until we pose for photos, and right when they snap a picture, we'll lean in and you can give me a big, dramatic kiss, alright?"
"I like that idea just as much," he said, smiling. He nuzzled into you and kissed your cheek. "Get yourself home safe, hun. Okay?"
"Okay," you said. You let go of him slowly, reluctantly getting back in your car. He waited, waving to you as you pulled out of the parking lot, before he got into his own car.
About halfway down the road, Dustin stirred. "I hope the reason you took that long is because you were confessing your feelings for Steve," he said, his voice thick with sleep.
You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye. "Go back to sleep, Dustin."
"So he confessed, too," he mumbled. "Good. You need each other."
You bit back a smile. "Whatever you say, Dustin."
"Yeah...whatever I say..."
~❊~
You stood in line, your heart beating out of your chest. You were surprised no one around you had told you they could hear it.
Billy was standing in front of you, seeming ridiculously tall in his graduation cap and gown. Behind you, the cap and gown seemed to make Tommy even shorter than normal.
"STEVE EUGENE HARRINGTON!"
Your eyes went wide and your head whipped very quickly toward an embarrassed Steve. You'd heard him groan when they had first started graduating seniors by calling middle names, too, but you had not been expecting that.
No wonder he hadn't wanted to tell Dustin—the kid was never going to leave him alone about this.
"WILLIAM DAVID HARGROVE!"
Billy walked. You waited until your name was shouted into the room. You could hear Steve cheer as he went back to his seat, and Dustin cheering up in the stands. You shook Principle Higgins' hand and accepted your diploma, practically glowing and feeling on top of the world.
When you were seated and Tommy H. was following you back to his seat, you leaned forward to see around Billy.
"Eugene?!"
Steve groaned. "Shut up. Please. Please."
"I can see why you didn't want to tell us," you giggled.
Tommy leaned around you. "You know, you could've told them not to say it."
Steve's eyes went huge. "I could have?!"
He was quickly shushed by the administrator guiding students to the stage. Stifling giggles, you and Tommy sat back in your chairs, waiting for the end of the ceremony to tease him endlessly.
~❊~
Lover's Lake in June—busy, overcrowded, full of children.
Lover's Lake in June past six at night—still full of children, but just the ones you were keeping your eyes on with Steve.
The party was having an adventure in the water, shouting at each other, the occasional D&D term thrown in. Max and Eleven were a ways away from the group, shrieking and holding their arms up every time the boys splashed the water too close to them.
Steve looked at his watch. "Hey, guys! It's almost eight! You've got fifteen minutes before we gotta get you home."
Max lifted up a hand, giving him a thumbs up, despite the boys not hearing a thing.
"Especially, you, Dusty, you have to go to camp tomorrow!" you called. You got no response.
"Jesus, they never listen, do they?" Steve sighed.
You leaned into his shoulder. "They listen, they just like yanking your chain."
You and Steve sat together at the edge of a dock, feet in the water, his pants rolled up to his knees and his arm around your shoulders. You held a copy of your graduation photo—the photo, the surprise photo where Steve had turned to you and kissed you right as the camera flashed.
"My mom framed her copy of this, you know," you said, handing him the photo. "It's sitting on the hearth."
He grinned. "I'm glad it turned out so well. I was worried it would be all blurry if I didn't time it right." He nuzzled his face into your temple, pressing a series of quick, gentle kisses there. "How'd Dustin take it?"
You laughed, your eyes straying to your brother, who was being tackled by Lucas. "He already knew! After I got in the car, he told me he hoped the reason it had taken me so long to get in after him was because he wanted us to be confessing our feelings to each other."
Steve snorted, loud in your ear. You shied away and he whispered a quick apology. "Of course he noticed. He notices everything."
"Not that it was hard to see we were hiding something from each other," you added, turning to catch his mouth with your own. He hummed into the kiss. "You spent all of that night looking at me with your 'I love you' eyes."
He raised his brows. "Oh, my 'I love you' eyes, really?"
You nodded, giggling at him and pressing closer to his side. You set the photo down behind you as he pulled you into a hug with both arms.
"Well, you weren't exactly the most subtle, either," Steve said, kissing your nose.
"Oh, yeah? What did I do?"
Steve brought his hand up to your cheek, brushing his thumb over your cheekbone. "Oh, you know, you get this look on your face. When you thought I couldn't see you, I guess. You'd look over and it was like...it was like you'd relax." He smiled. "Like seeing me was all it took to calm you down from whatever stress you had."
You smiled. "Yeah, I guess you do kind of have that effect on me." You ran your gaze over him. "You know...you're giving me those eyes right now."
His voice was nearly a whisper. "Good." Steve kissed you deeply, cupping the side of your face to hold you close to him. "Because I do." He squeezed your hip with his other hand. "Because I do love you."
You stared at him, mouth dropped open.
Steve turned red. "I know it's soon, but I—"
"Steve?"
"Yeah?"
"Kiss me."
"Okay," he whispered, leaning back in. When his lips met yours, you lifted your hand into his hair. He sighed happily into your mouth. He wrapped his arms around your waist.
And then it dawned on you. You pulled back from him. "Steve, it's too quiet."
You both looked at the water, half-expecting the kids to be gone, but they were all still in the lake—treading water and staring, silently, at you and Steve.
"What?" Steve asked slowly.
Dustin made a face. "Dude. My sister."
Steve rolled his eyes. "Dude. My girlfriend!"
"You're just as bad as El and Mike," Will groaned, setting off the shouting once more.
Steve glanced at you. "We're not that bad, are we?"
You shrugged. "I don't think so."
He kissed you again. "That's all that matters." He looked back at the kids. "Alright, come on, out of the water! You're not getting in my car soaking wet."
While the kids groaned and complained, Steve stood and offered you his hand to help you up. You took it, kissing his cheek once you were upright. His hand still in yours, you made your way to the car.
Dustin called your name. "Have you seen my towel?"
"Right here, Henderson," Steve laughed. He picked it up from the chair it was flopped over and handed it to him. You leaned into Steve, letting go of his hand so he could wrap his arm around your waist. He kissed the top of your head.
"See?" you whispered to him. "Good dad."
A glint entered Steve's eyes. "Someday," he said, and you got the feeling his someday included you.
You covered his hand on your hip with your own and looked up at him. "I love you, Stevie."
"Still my sister, Steve!"
Steve didn't take his eyes off you and his voice was soft, too soft for Dustin to hear. "Still my girlfriend, Henderson."
☞ ❊ ☜
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Stranger Things // Steve Harrington
Taglist: {comment and let me know if you'd like to be added to the S.H. taglist!} @ohatropa@nix-rose@live-the-fangirl-life
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tellmealovestory · 6 months
Text
Crochet Sweater
Summary: You started a new hobby and your first project doesn't come out the way you hoped.
Warnings: A few lines of suggestive dialogue.
Spooktober Masterlist
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“It’s finished!” You exude excitement as you skip up to Eddie carrying a black bag stuffed with orange tissue paper that crinkles every time you swing it back and forth in your hands.
“Took you long enough,” Eddie teases, grimacing when you slap his chest playfully. “Ouch, lady! You wound me.” 
You roll your eyes at his dramatics because you clearly didn’t. Shoving the bag into his arms you wait with bated breath as he pushes aside some of the tissue paper to peer inside. His eyebrows meet in the middle of his forehead, lips turning down into a frown and your stomach twists and turns like a pretzel. 
“It’s a Christmas sweater?” he asks with confusion. “Little early for Christmas presents isn’t it? Only October last I checked.” 
“What? No,” you say. “It’s the sweater that Freddy Cougar wears from that movie you won’t stop talking about.” 
“Cougar? You mean Kreuger?” 
You shrug your shoulders and scrunch your face up. Cougar, Kreuger it’s all the same to you. It’s a horror movie villain and you refuse to watch horror movies because you get scared easily and despite Eddie’s promises that he won’t let anything happen to you you still refuse to go to the movies and see it with him. 
“Huh,” Eddie says, pulling the crochet sweater fully out of the bag. The tissue paper crinkles again and he carelessly tosses the bag to the floor, his confusion only growing when he sees it fully. 
All he had told you were the colors were red and green so naturally you had chosen colors that were bright and cheery. A bold green, almost neon like something the Grinch’s fur would be covered in. A red that was cherry colored, the color of ribbons and bows strung up on porches during the holiday season. 
Holding it up to his body he doesn’t even try to hold back his laughter that bursts out loud and hard until his shoulders are shaking and he can barely breath. One sleeve is far longer than the other, covering his rings that rest on his fingers, the other only about a quarter long. It’s wide, but short and as you stare at it and then him you’re mortified. 
“Oh…” 
It’s the ugliest thing you’ve ever seen in your life. In your defense it was your first attempt at a new hobby, but still…
“You don’t have to wear that,” you blurt, reaching out for it to take it back and shove it in the bottom of a dumpster in a part of town that no one goes to, but Eddie is quicker than you, pulling it out of your reach as he slips it over his head. 
Dear god it’s even uglier on him and he’s a man that could pull anything off. 
Your face hurts from how hot it’s burning, but Eddie seems to be having the time of his life. Using the arm that has the longer sleeve he flops his hand about in the air and grins like a mad man. There’s a sliver of midriff showing where you didn’t get the measurements quite right and when he turns around and spins like a ballerina you can see some of the yarn you used already unraveling near the back and the bottom.
“Eddie. If you care about me at all you’re going to take that thing off and burn it in the backyard.”
“Naw. Gonna wear this on our next date. Make everybody in this town jealous. Hey, you ever thought of making one for yourself? We could wear matching sweaters on date night.” He wiggles his eyebrows like he’s come up with the best idea in the world.
This time when you slap his chest you make sure to add a little more force so it hurts. 
“Gonna sleep in this. Gonna wear it till it falls off. Gonna make sweet, sweet love to you in this,” he says, eyebrows dancing higher and that’s the final straw. 
“Oh my god,” you mutter, face burning hotter because only Eddie would think of saying something like that. “I swear to god if you plan on wearing that while we’re making out the only person you’re gonna be making love to is yourself.” You say putting air quotes around the last few words. 
His boisterous laughter is the last thing you hear before he’s enveloping you in his arms and the ugly sweater, mouth covering yours as he kisses you. “I really do like it,” he murmurs against your lips. 
You want to call him a liar because how could anyone love something that ugly? But before you can get a word in edgewise he’s kissing you again making you lose your train of thought.
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