#i might ink and paint it later | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

matchingbatbites · 26 days

Text

somehow we're here

Explicit | 6.5k | Modern AU | Full Tags + Read on Ao3

Steve only downloaded the app because he was drunk.

At least, that’s what he’ll tell himself in the morning, once he’s back in the light of day and not half-gone on a few fruity cocktails and multiple shots of tequila - at least three, though it’s realistically more like five or six. Nevermind that he’s been home for almost an hour at this point, is only still awake because of the vague nausea still rolling in his stomach.

It had been incredibly easy to set up an account, even in his drunken state - something he thinks might be a feature and not a bug - and he’s been scrolling on it for about ten minutes when he realizes-

He’s still bored.

Because that had been the real reason, hadn’t it?

Steve is bored. Bored of first dates that seem to go nowhere, of relationships that seem to fizzle out after a few weeks, and for whatever reason, Tequila Steve seems convinced that a gay dating app would be a fun thing to sign up for. It’s not like he has anything to lose, he’s just bored and kind of horny and definitely not lonely and desperate.

So Steve flips through profiles, taking in photos of the same waifish boys and beefy gym bros. He’s just about ready to give up and try to sleep through the nausea, when he stumbles across a profile that makes him stop cold.

The photo looks like it’s from a concert or something; the guy is on a stage, clearly mid-show, with a wicked looking guitar in his hands. Steve’s eyes get caught on those hands, the veins and the painted nails and the chunky, silver rings.

His hair is a riot of dark curls haloed by the stage lights, and Steve regrets that he isn’t able to see the man’s face. He focuses instead on his clothes, the black t-shirt and ripped jeans, his exposed forearms littered with black ink.

The photo is so honest. It’s pure, simple emotion and Steve is instantly drawn in, eager to know more about this person.

The next photo is closer, clearly cropped down from a larger picture, and Steve gets his first good look at the man’s beautiful face. Deep, chocolate eyes that house a delighted sparkle, a blinding smile that sets loose a swarm of butterflies in Steve’s stomach. Not to mention the piercings; two just below his lower lip and another through his eyebrow - Steve briefly wonders if he has more, maybe his tongue or his nipples - fuck, that would be so hot.

In the last photo the man is seated on a couch, holding an acoustic guitar this time, and he seems focused on whatever he’s playing, clearly unaware of the camera-person at all. Those brown curls are pulled into an updo, revealing ears littered with even more silver jewelry, and there’s a cute little crinkle between his brows that Steve wants to smooth out with his thumb.

Steve scrolls down to actually read the guy’s profile, and sees that his name is Eddie. He’s 27 and local to the area, he likes metal music and D&D, and he definitely seems to check a lot of Steve’s boxes. Nerdy? Yeah. Hot? Fuck yeah. Confident? If the concert photo is anything to go by, this man has confidence coming out his ass. So yeah, check there too.

He adds the guy without hesitation, and will once again blame Tequila Steve for what’s next once he’s sober. He sends Eddie a message.

‘Hi, i’m straight, i literally just got this app cause im kinda bord and kinda drunk. But you’re actually my type. Can I be honest?’

Steve doesn’t really expect an immediate response, considering that it’s two in the morning and all, so he decides to flip over to a different app, already knowing that he isn’t really going to care about anyone else he might come across. He’s surprised when only a couple of minutes later, he gets back a simple ‘Sure lmao’, and scrambles to flip back over to the messenger.

‘I didint think i’d message anyone on here but your cute and hnestly i geuss i kinda like that you won’t get pregnant.’

He decides to wait this time, to see if he’ll get another quick response, and he holds his breath when the typing indicator pops up, only to disappear again. It does this a couple of times, like Eddie is writing and pausing, or erasing and starting over, and Steve just waits, so curious to know what the other man is going to say.

‘Are you free tomorrow? I need to know if you’re as adorably endearing when you’re sober.’

Steve gasps in delight. Eddie wants to meet him! He kicks his feet a little in excitement and messages back ‘I can be as endering as you want me to be baby.’ It takes him a second to realize he hadn’t actually answered Eddie’s question, and he sends a follow up ‘Yes i am free tomorow.’

‘Meet me at Hank’s on 6th? 7pm?’

He confirms the time and place, and even as giddy as he is, Steve’s barely able to exchange a few more messages before he’s out like a light.

Steve wakes up the next morning with a headache. It’s nowhere near the level of one of his migraines, but it’s enough to be annoying as he gets up and starts his day. He’s thankful it’s Saturday, that all he really has to worry about are some errands and brunch with Robin.

A quick shower and a cup of coffee has him feeling more alive, but meeting up with Robin makes him feel better than anything else could. She looks about as bad as he does, which is interesting considering that she didn’t even come with him to the club last night.

They chatter on for a while, with Steve letting her rant again about the situation she finds herself in (she refuses to drop Vickie even though the girl bounces between her on-again-off-again boyfriend and Robin like a fucking ping pong ball, and she also refuses to admit her growing feelings for Chrissy, her roommate turned friend with benefits. It’s a whole mess.)

She asks about his own dating life, and he honestly has nothing new to report. He’d gone out last night intending to at least find someone to take home, but once he actually got into the scene, the effort just didn’t seem worth it for a temporary fix.

Instead he drank, and he danced with strangers until the room started to spin, and then he made his way home. He’d had fun, even though he'd ended his night alone. Robin hums and pours another drink from the pitcher between them - White Peach Sangria this week, and it’s good, though Steve prefers the Bloody Mary they had last time.

“We're kind of pathetic, huh?”

“I mean, you are,” Steve replies, and shrugs when she gives an affronted Hey! “I might be single, but you're the one who's letting a great girl slip through your fingers because you can’t say no to your fickle ex.”

“She’s not fickle-”

“Where was she last night?” Steve asks, staring Robin down until she says “With me.”

“Mhm. And where is she now?”

Robin frowns hard and grumbles “With Jack.”

Steve gives her a look, and she sinks down a little in her seat.

“You know, sometimes I forget that you were friends with the mean girls in high school, and then you hit me with that fucking Carol Perkins face and it all comes flooding back,” she says, and Steve rolls his eyes.

“Stop being a drama queen, and stop waiting for Vickie to change her mind about Jack. It’s not fair for her to come running to you every time they have a fight if she has no intention of actually leaving him for you. You deserve better, Rob.”

Robin groans and drains the last of her glass. “When did you get so wise and shit?”

“Fuck you,” Steve says, no heat behind it as he kicks her under the table. “I know how relationships work and shit. You’re the one who doesn’t listen to me.”

She kicks him back with a “Yeah, yeah. Come on, let’s finish this pitcher so I can go home and wallow.”

The notification comes in after brunch, once he and Robin have parted ways and Steve’s just parked at the grocery store (he doesn’t take Robin with him to the store anymore, for both of their sakes).

‘Hey, just want to make sure we’re still good for tonight?’

Tonight? What’s tonight?

It takes him a moment to remember his actions from the night before, to remember the app. Steve’s stomach flips at the vague memory of a conversation and he opens the messenger. He scrolls up, reading his message history with this Eddie person, and oh god.

Is it possible to get secondhand embarrassment from your own actions? Your very drunk and somewhat horny actions? The guy seemed to take it pretty well, at least, and Steve taps over to his profile out of curiosity.

And yeah, okay, Tequila Steve had a point. He’s never thought about dating a guy before, but this man is hot, just absolutely sexy in a way Sober Steve isn’t prepared for. He had been planning on telling this Eddie guy that he was drunk when he agreed to meet, that he wasn’t interested, but now that would be a lie. Because he’s definitely interested.

He sends a ‘Yup! Still good :)’ and then quickly follows it with ‘I was so drunk last night that I kind of forgot about our conversation, so I’m glad you messaged me!’

Eddie’s reply takes a second, that starting and stopping going on just long enough to make Steve nervous before a message comes through.

‘Oh damn! I’m glad I did too. Though you did tell me last night that you’re straight, so I won’t hold it against you if you don’t want to meet anymore. I know alcohol can make us do things we normally wouldn’t.’

Oh, he’s sweet. Steve actually does decide to think about it, and flips back over to Eddie’s profile as he does. He goes through the photos again, imagines what it would be like to be close, be intimate with Eddie the way he has with women. It doesn’t scare him the way he thinks it should, because he doesn’t actually think it would be that different. Sex is just sex, right? It’s the person that makes it fun, makes it special. And Eddie definitely seems like a special one.

What reaffirms Steve’s decision is the last photo, where Eddie is holding the acoustic. His eyes catch again on those ringed fingers, on the rough, clearly hand cut neckline of Eddie’s shirt. He thinks about what it would be like to lick the jut of Eddie’s exposed collar bone, and the shiver that runs down his spine has him immediately flipping back to the conversation.

‘I definitely still want to meet. As embarrassing as I was last night, I was telling the truth.’

‘Oh good! Nice to know that sober Steve also thinks I’m cute and is glad I can’t get pregnant.’

Steve groans and drops his head onto the steering wheel a few times. He's never gonna live that one down, is he?

Another message comes through before he can be too mortified, though he almost regrets looking when he sees ‘Unless sober Steve is more upset by that than glad’ which is followed rapidly by ‘It’s okay baby, we can always pretend if you want ;)’

This man is gonna fucking kill Steve.

Hank's on 6th is a little dive bar that Steve has actually been to a few times, when he and Robin had wanted to go drinking but hadn’t wanted to deal with the noise and bustle of the club. It’s cozy compared to other bars in the area, and Steve is happy for the familiarity of the location as he steps inside. He pauses inside the door and glances around, looking for- oh.

Sitting at a nearby table is Eddie, in the flesh. He’s even more stunning in person, with his hair pulled up into a bun, showing off the jewelry in his ears and the long line of his neck. He’s wearing a dark t-shirt and jeans, and Steve can see a leather jacket slung over the back of his chair.

Eddie spots Steve about the same time and waves, inviting him over. He does his own once-over as Steve approaches, and Steve knows what he looks like. He spent long enough in front of the mirror agonizing over his appearance, making sure everything was perfect. His red sweater is comfortable even though it’s a smidge too small, and he can see Eddie’s eyes catch on the way it stretches across his shoulders, on his forearms where he’s rolled the sleeves up.

“Not gonna lie,” Eddie says as Steve sits down. “I’m kind of surprised you showed up.”

“I said I would. Tequila Steve might not be the smartest, but sometimes he has good ideas.”

Eddie laughs and Steve is overwhelmed with the desire to dig his thumb into the dimple that appears in the man’s cheek. “Well I hope I get the chance to thank him someday.”

Eddie’s photos don’t do him justice, don’t properly convey the energy he has. They get on better than Steve would have imagined, and while the conversation lulls every now and then, it never truly stops. His piercings catch the light, pulling Steve's attention down to his mouth, to the way it moves while Eddie speaks. It’s distracting, and the teasing smile Eddie wears for the conversation tells Steve that he knows.

Steve learns that Eddie works at an assisted living facility, something he never would have guessed based on the man’s appearance. It’s not a job Eddie ever expected to have, but he loves it, loves helping people who need it and gossiping with the old biddies that have taken a shine to him. In exchange Steve talks about his job as a physical therapist, how he recently started his experiential hours so he can specialize in pediatrics.

(“I feel kind of dumb now,” Eddie says. “Knowing that you’re a whole ass doctor and I just have a CNA.”

“Eddie, I majored in kinesiology. You’re probably better in a medical setting than I ever will be.”)

They talk about their hobbies and interests, pleased to learn there’s a little bit of crossover with everything. They may not know the ins and outs, but Steve has absorbed some knowledge on D&D thanks to the kids he used to babysit, and Eddie likes to watch sports with his uncle to keep him company on his off days.

They sit and talk for a long while, completely unaware of the time passing until Steve looks at his watch and realizes it’s been nearly four hours since they sat down.

“Holy shit, it’s almost eleven,” he says, and Eddie blinks in surprise. “Oh wow, I had no idea.”

It’s like they’ve been snapped back into reality, and Steve notices the half dozen beer bottles littering their table along with the bill that’s been there for who knows how long. Steve pays the check - nearly shoves his card into the server’s hand so he can beat Eddie to it - and they both leave cash for the tip before heading out of the bar.

It’s outside Hank’s that the hesitation sets in. This is one of the best dates Steve has been on in a long, long time, and he really isn’t ready for it to be over. He thinks Eddie feels the same, if the way he reaches over to thread their fingers together means anything.

“Do you want to come back to my place?” Steve asks, practically on impulse, and Eddie smiles.

“I would love to, Stevie.” He takes a breath like he wants to say something else, but pauses, and Steve squeezes his hand gently.

“What are you thinking?”

“I’m trying to figure out how to tell you that I want to have sex with you without sounding like a slut who puts out on the first date.”

Well, that’s fair. Steve doesn’t usually have sex on the first date either. He likes the connection that comes with knowing someone emotionally before learning them physically, but there’s just something about Eddie. Steve feels like he knows the man inside and out after just four hours together, and he knows it’s fast but he wonders what it would feel like to wake up next to him in the morning.

Steve just grins at the blunt honesty and tugs Eddie closer. “If you’re a slut then so am I, because I’m definitely down for that.”

The drive back to Steve’s place doesn’t take long, and before he knows it he’s locking the door behind them as Eddie sheds his leather jacket. He drapes it over the back of the couch as he looks around, taking in Steve’s apartment. It’s not much, but it’s comfortable, cozy, very different from the sterile house Steve grew up in.

Eddie smiles as he sees the trinkets dotted about, a mix of gifts from the kids Steve used to babysit and his own little knick knacks, but pauses when he sees a photo collage of Steve and Robin on the nearby wall. Steve doesn’t like the way his smile dips down into a frown, and he walks over to wrap his arm around Eddie’s waist.

“That’s Robin,” he says as he pulls Eddie into his side, needing to quell any doubts or misconceptions he might be having. “She’s my best friend in the entire world, and a lesbian, so you can stop pouting now.”

Eddie gives him a bit of a side-eye and says “Not pouting. Just want to make sure you’re not doing this behind the back of an unsuspecting girlfriend or something.”

Steve smiles at the consideration and shakes his head as he turns Eddie to face him. “No girl, Eds, I promise. Just you and me.”

Something about that seems to be the final straw for Eddie because he surges forward, hands landing on Steve's neck as he leans up to press their mouths together.

The first kiss with Eddie is easy. It’s not earth-shattering or life changing, not like Steve thought it would be kissing a man for the first time. It feels like a normal kiss, and honestly that’s more of a comfort to Steve than anything. The fact that it’s Eddie on the other side of the kiss is what makes him shudder, makes him press closer.

Eddie’s hands push up into his hair, messing up the styling as Steve dips his head to kiss along his jaw. He hums into smooth skin and slides his own hands down to Eddie’s ass, squeezing it briefly before using his grip to drag Eddie’s hips against his own.

He can feel the line of Eddie’s dick through the layers of denim and yeah, that’s different, but not bad at all. Steve warms up to it pretty quickly actually, especially once Eddie starts moaning into his ear, a low “Fuck, baby,” that only encourages Steve to continue. Their mouths meet in another kiss as Steve grinds their hips together, each thrust working to drive Steve absolutely insane.

Eddie’s hands eventually make their way south to ruck up Steve’s sweater, and he breaks the kiss just enough to mutter “Off, get this off,” against Steve's mouth.

Steve laughs but steps back, pulls off his top and drops it carelessly to the floor. Eddie groans and reaches out, not even hesitating before he pushes his hands into Steve’s chest hair. “God, I’ve been wanting to do that since I saw your photo last night,” he mutters, and it takes Steve a moment to remember the picture he’d drunkenly added to his profile.

It was just a typical shirtless thirst shot he’d taken before a run one day (though he had put a shirt on before he actually left, thank you), because he’d felt good about the way he looked - and clearly Eddie had appreciated the picture as well. Steve shudders as Eddie scrapes his nails down his chest, and he half-expects Eddie to start purring in delight.

“Is it as good as you imagined?” he asks, biting back a chuckle, and Eddie nods.

“Better than. So fuckin’ hot. Don't ever shave it, I beg you.”

Steve does laugh at that. He lets Eddie get his fill for a moment before swooping in to kiss him again. He slips his fingers into Eddie’s belt loops and mutters a “Bed?” against his mouth. Eddie hums in agreement and Steve tugs him along, guiding him to the bedroom and only stopping once to grind their hips together.

He steps back enough to pull off Eddie’s shirt and groans because his nipples are pierced, and fuck if that isn’t doing something for Steve. Thumbing over one makes Eddie shiver and gasp, and he knows that he needs to get his mouth on them as soon as possible. He feels like a predator as he pushes Eddie back, not stopping until the man is sprawled across his bed, a beautiful feast meant just for him.

Steve crawls on top of Eddie and presses his lips to the spider decorating his shoulder before moving down to lick over his nipple. Eddie shudders and pushes his hands into Steve's hair, holding him in place as Steve seals his mouth around the pink bud. The piercing is warm, and the stark contrast between metal and flesh has Steve groaning into Eddie's skin.

He sucks on it, earning a stuttering moan from the man under him and hands tightening in his hair. “Fu-uck, Stevie.” Steve thumbs over the other nipple and pinches it just to hear him gasp again, before continuing his journey southwards, pressing kisses into the tattoos he comes across along the way. He pauses for a moment to suck a bruise into Eddie’s hip, just above his waistband, and the man is practically squirming.

“God, when I agreed to come over, I didn’t think you were gonna be this much of a tease.”

Steve rolls his eyes and bites into the bruise he just created, pulling a low groan from Eddie. “It’s called foreplay, you ass.”

“I’d rather you foreplay my ass,” Eddie mutters, and Steve laughs into smooth skin. He does concede, though, and pulls back so he can slide off Eddie’s jeans and underwear, discarding them to the floor. Eddie’s dick is pretty, a smidge thinner than his own but just as long, and weeping heavily from the pink tip. Steve wants to touch it, taste it, wants to feel the weight of it on his tongue as Eddie fucks his mouth.

“Feel free to touch it, not just look at it,” Eddie says, and Steve smirks.

“Normally I would, but someone wanted me to skip the foreplay.”

Eddie groans dramatically in response and Steve ignores him as he reaches over into the nightstand to grab the lube and a condom. He drops the items next to Eddie, and the man gives an “Oh shit!” as he grabs the tube. “You actually have lube?”

“Uh, I'm a grown man, Eddie. Not some 15-year-old that still uses lotion to jack off.”

Eddie rolls his eyes and smacks the bottle against Steve's chest. “Twenty-four hours ago you told me you were straight, excuse me for making some assumptions.”

“Stereotypical assumptions,” Steve tacks on and Eddie rolls his eyes again harder. “Also you might be surprised to learn this, but some women also enjoy anal, so I'm not actually a complete newbie when it comes to this.”

“And here I was thinking I'd have to hold your hand through the whole thing.”

Steve huffs a laugh and slicks up his fingers. “Oh, do you not want to hold hands while I fuck you into the mattress?”

Eddie gasps and brings a hand to his forehead, like a mockery of some swooning maiden as he says “Why Stevie, I think that's the most romantic thing you've said so- ohhh my god.” He groans as Steve pushes the finger deeper, and kicks his shoulder gently when Steve just grins.

“Shut the fuck up,” Eddie spits, but Steve can tell there's no real heat behind it. He just hums, says “I dunno what you're talking about,” as he slides a second in alongside the first. He hooks his free hand under Eddie’s knee and pushes it closer to his chest, exposing him a bit more.

Steve leans down to press a kiss to Eddie’s neglected dick and curls his fingers at the same time, trying to hit Eddie’s prostate. He knows he’s successful when hands jerk down, sinking into his hair once more as Eddie keens.

“Shit, Stevie-!”

“Wanna suck you off next time. Wanna pin your hips to the bed and see how much I can take, wanna tease you until you come on my face, in my mouth.”

Eddie shudders and nods, bucks his hips as best he can with Steve’s fingers in him. “Oh fuck, yes. Gonna let me paint your face, baby? Gonna let me be the first cock to fuck that pretty mouth?”

Steve groans a “Fuck yeah, Eds,” and pushes in a third finger, eager to finish his prep but not wanting to rush. He spreads his fingers wide as he leans in again, sinking his teeth into the junction where thigh meets groin, and Eddie's entire body jerks at the bit of pain.

He tugs at Steve's hair, trying to pull him up as he says “Fuck! That's gotta be good enough, need you in me fucking last week, sweetheart.”

Steve shudders and nods with a “Yeah, baby,” as he pulls his fingers free. He stands up and strips off his remaining clothes, not worrying about where they land before he climbs back between Eddie's legs. He can feel Eddie watching as he rolls on the condom, and he's about to make a remark about it when the man says “You know what kind of sucks?”

Steve just hums in response as he scoots closer, until his thighs are pressed against Eddie's ass and all he has to do is push forward just a little more-

“That we’ll have to get tested before we can put my ability to not get pregnant to good use.”

A groan rips through Steve and he drops his head back at the mental image that creates. “Fuck, you can’t just say that.”

Eddie grins, all Cheshire and taunting as he says “Oh, I can’t? I can’t tell you how excited I am for you to come in me, to fill up my ass until I’m fucking leaking- mmh!”

Steve dives down to shut him up with a kiss before he can say anything else, and he can feel Eddie laughing into it. Arms wrap around Steve’s shoulders, holding him close as they take a moment to just make out, all slick and languid like they're not both on the verge of desperation. Steve wraps a hand around his dick and blindly rubs the head against Eddie’s hole before he finally pushes forward.

Even after prep, Eddie is tight, and Steve groans as he slowly sinks in, not stopping until his hips are flush with Eddie’s ass. He rubs his hands over Eddie’s sides as he just waits there, giving the man a chance to adjust. It only takes a moment before Eddie gives a soft “Okay, I'm good,” and Steve holds good on his word. He leans forward, lacing his fingers with Eddie's and pressing them into the bed as he starts a slow pace.

Eddie goes all starry-eyed as he glances at their joined hands, and mutters “Didn't think you were serious about that.”

“I don't joke about hand holding, Eds. It's very important.” That pulls a soft laugh from Eddie and Steve leans closer until he can kiss that smile, can taste the laugh at its source.

It's hands down the best sex Steve has ever had. Eddie is so responsive, all noisy and twitchy and eager. He quickly figures out what Steve likes and doesn't even attempt to keep his mouth shut, just offers a stream of encouragement that’s only broken when Steve finds and abuses that sweet spot inside him.

“Right there, Eddie? Is that it, baby?”

“Uh-huh, fuck, so good!”

Eddie's a fucking vision, with his brown curls slowly escaping the confines of the bun and his eyes glazed over in pleasure. Steve releases Eddie's hands and slides his own down to clutch at the man's slim waist, his fingers digging into the tattoos decorating his skin. He fantasizes about leaving bruises, about leaving his own mark alongside the black ink and fucks into him harder at just the idea.

“Shit, Stevie! Gonna come, gonna-”

Eddie gets a hand around his dick and barely gets in a few strokes before he’s coming, a loud “Fuckfuckfuck!” escaping him as he spills over his hand and onto his stomach. It’s so fucking hot, and Steve’s hands tighten around Eddie's waist at the sight. His thrusts are a bit wild as he chases his own orgasm, and all it takes is Eddie's reedy “In me, Steve, give it to me-” before it hits him like a fucking truck.

He doesn't remember the last time he came this hard, his hips grinding against Eddie's ass as he fills the condom before eventually collapsing down onto the other man. They just lay there for a moment, waiting for their highs to settle and their breathing to return to normal, and Steve smiles when Eddie starts to giggle.

“What's that about?” he asks, using the opportunity to press a few kisses along the line of Eddie's shoulder and neck. The man just grins and shakes his head.

“I haven't bottomed in like- three years. Forgot how good it feels.”

That surprises Steve a bit, actually. “Three years? And you just break that streak for some random person you met on the internet?”

“Mhm. You sent me those messages and I was like ‘Wow, I can't believe I'm gonna let this guy fuck me’.”

Steve laughs and nips at Eddie's shoulder. After a few minutes he carefully pulls out and reluctantly leaves Eddie on the bed as he goes to the bathroom to trash the condom and grab a wet hand towel. He cleans Eddie up before tossing the cloth to the floor and laying down beside him. He's instantly wrapped up in Eddie's arms and he sighs happily as they huddle close together.

“Stay the night? I'll make you breakfast in the morning,” Steve offers, and Eddie hums into his temple.

“With coffee?”

“With coffee.”

Another hum before Eddie nuzzles into his hair, and Steve can feel Eddie press a kiss to the crown of his head. “Then I'd love to stay the night, Stevie.”

Steve wakes up slowly the next morning. The sun shining through the window bathes the room in golden light, making Eddie look ethereal where he lays curled into Steve’s side. He takes a moment to just watch the man, to admire the relaxed lines of Eddie’s face as he slumbers on, unaware.

He doesn’t know the last time he felt a connection with someone this- profound.

Actually, no - the last time this happened was probably with Robin, the girl who became something closer to him than a sister, the one person who probably knows him better than he knows himself. Being with Eddie feels so similar to those early days with Robin - after they’d gotten locked in the bathroom during a mall fire, not the actual early days when Robin seemingly hated him.

So Steve knows deep in his soul that there’s something about Eddie. Something so special ingrained into his very existence, and Steve’s sure that, if he just gives it a chance, Eddie could change his life.

After a few more minutes of basking in the morning silence, he tries to slip out of bed without waking Eddie, but he knows he’s failed when the arms just tighten around him. Eddie groans out a “Noooo,” and Steve grins. He presses a kiss to Eddie’s hair and says “Gotta let me go if you want me to make your coffee.”

A muffled “Man of my dreams,” as Eddie releases him has Steve chuckling as he climbs out of bed. He throws on a pair of sweatpants and heads downstairs, and puts on some coffee before he does anything else. By the time Eddie joins him, dressed only in his boxers from the night before, the coffee is ready and Steve is stacking pancakes onto a couple of plates.

Eddie seems more awake as he wraps his arms around Steve, pressing a quick kiss to his shoulder along with a soft “Morning, sweetheart.”

“Morning, baby. Coffee’s on the counter, sugar’s in the jar and milk is in the fridge if you want it.”

Another kiss meets his skin, this one just below his ear, before Eddie is pulling away. Steve finishes plating the pancakes while Eddie makes his coffee, and they converge at the kitchen island. They eat mostly in silence, but it's not uncomfortable. It's easy, actually, to let the quiet settle around them like a warm blanket. But that doesn't mean Steve's thoughts aren't racing.

“So, uh.” Steve pauses, feels almost bashful as he looks up at Eddie. “It's been a really, really long time since I've felt a connection like this, and I may be a little dumb, but I'm not an idiot.” Eddie frowns at Steve's little self deprecating dig, but doesn't say anything as he continues. “I really want to see where this goes, if you're up for it.”

A slow grin breaks out on Eddie's face and he leans in, getting into Steve's personal space. “Why Stevie. Are you asking me to be your boyfriend? After only one date?”

Steve huffs a laugh and slides a hand up to the base of Eddie's neck, feeling and tangling his fingers with the soft hair there. “I’d ask you right now to move in if it wouldn't make me look fucking insane.”

Eddie's expression instantly goes slack with shock, and fuck, Steve's done it again, hasn't he? Said too much, too soon, and lost something good before it even had a chance to go anywhere. He starts to pull away, wanting to give Eddie some space, but he's stopped by two hands settling on his waist, practically clutching the bare skin.

“My lease is up for renewal in three months,” Eddie says, and Steve blinks in surprise. “So maybe at that point we can see where we are? Because you're right. I don't think I've ever just clicked with someone like this before. It feels like- like fucking destiny or something. And I also really, really want to see where this goes.”

Steve gives in to the urge to pull Eddie forward into a kiss. It’s intense and passionate and a bit sticky, the maple syrup making their lips tacky and causing Eddie to giggle into Steve's mouth.

They’re interrupted by the sound of Steve’s phone ringing with a video call, and he knows who it is before he even looks at the device. He answers with a “Morning, Robin,” and is met with a manic “You’ll never guess what happened this morning!”

“I would hope something with Chrissy, but I’m guessing it’s something with Vickie-”

“Vickie called! Jack fucking proposed to her last night!”

Oh shit. “And she said..?”

“They’re on good terms right now, so of course she said yes!”

Steve takes a sip of coffee and hums. “Sounds like it’s time for you to put on some big girl panties and ask Chrissy out on a real date.”

“Steven, you know I hate that word.”

“I will record it and set it as your ringtone if you don’t make some kind of move, Robin. Before Chrissy gets tired of waiting for you to make a decision and makes one herself.”

She groans pathetically and Steve watches her scrub a hand over her face. “I hate it when you make sense. Can we stop talking about me, please? Distract me with something else.”

“Oh, well, uh,” Steve glances up at Eddie who has been watching the interaction with an amused smile. His heart swells with affection and he blurts out “I have a boyfriend.”

Eddie beams at him as Robin blinks, most likely processing before she says “You just told me yesterday that your dating life was practically nonexistent, and now you have a boyfriend? How did that happen?? And moreover, how long have you liked men??”

She sounds incredulous - rightfully so, honestly - and Steve shrugs. “At least twenty-four hours, but it could realistically be closer to something like thirty-six. I downloaded a dating app the night before last and met Eddie on it. We went on a date last night, he stayed over, and I asked him to be my boyfriend this morning.”

“You asked me to move in this morning,” Eddie says, and Robin must catch it because she closes her eyes and takes a deep breath.

“You’re gonna put every U-haul lesbian in this city to shame,” she mutters before looking at Steve again. “Are you not like- freaking out? I mean, in the near decade I’ve known you, you’ve only dated girls, and now you’re dating a guy? Just like that?”

Steve shrugs and reaches out to take one of Eddie’s hands. “I guess so. You know I’ve always been a roll with the punches kinda guy. And Eddie is- Special. He’s special.”

Eddie is looking at him with those big, brown eyes, wide and a bit awestruck, and Steve can’t resist reeling him close for a quick kiss.

“I am so happy for you,” Robin says, pulling Steve’s attention back to his phone, “but also incredibly upset because now I know I have to follow your advice about Chrissy. Which is just absolutely terrifying.”

“You should have been listening from the beginning. Seriously though, go get your girl, Rob. You deserve to be happy.”

They say their goodbyes after another moment and Steve focuses back on Eddie. “Did you have anything to do today?” he asks as he collects their empty plates and takes them to the sink. Eddie follows, draining the last of his coffee before he replies “Not today. Why, did you have something to do?”

Steve grins and takes Eddie’s mug, setting it on the counter before he scoops the man into his arms. “Other than you?”

Eddie barks a laugh at the line and shakes his head fondly. “Jesus Christ, how did I get my hands on such a dork?”

“Just lucky, I guess,” Steve replies, and tugs Eddie into another sticky kiss.

Much love to @bramble-berries for brainstorming this with me! (Even if she didn't know it at the time lol.) Also thank you to @sidekick-hero for cheerleading me through the last bit of writing on this! You're an absolute dear! <3

#steddie #mentioned rockie and buckingham #steddie fanfic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #steddie fanfiction #people who subscribe on ao3 got this fic 6 hours early #just saying #joey writes

485 notes · View notes

gatorbites-imagines · 3 months

Note

John Constantine x tattoo artist?? Smut or no (you choose!) I think it would be cute if john gets his tats from the reader (also kind of a possessive/marking quality there lol)

John Constantine x Tattoo artist male reader

Headcanons

Sorry there’s been no posts this week, classes have started up again, so as you can imagine I’m exhausted and have a lot less free time. I’ve been using most of my free time to read JJK, ngl.

Imagine being a magical tattoo artist, something like a seal maker. You do large complex and beautiful pieces, but you hide different seals and protection markers inside the patterns. It keeps the real purpose of the tattoo a secret, but is also pretty to look at.

John already has tattoos in the hellblazer comics, but imagine you giving him different ink. Something a lot less obvious and more attractive.

It makes him pass as a hot blonde British guy covered in a lot of fancy ink, instead of some brit with lotsa weird cult looking tattoos.

John becomes one of your most common customers, mainly because a lot of the tattoos you put on him disappear after the seals been used, since its all defense and storage. He might also use it as an excuse to see you more, so he can flirt.

John being John, would get a tattoo right above his crotch, think like a reverse tramp stamp, or a succubus tattoo, just so he can have you sitting between his thighs as he gives his flirting his all.

You definitely end up railing him within an inch of his life in the tattoo chair, tsking and “punishing” him for straining the tattooed area too much, and “messing up your work” when he writhes too much.

In the beginning its just a friends with benefits situation, something like a “happy ending” you might say. John wouldn’t be someone to do relationships for the most part, since most of the ones he’s been in haven’t ended great.

He subconsciously also wouldn’t want to paint a target on your back, since hes always involved with all kinds of stuff. But he cant help but always find himself back with you, getting some new seal inked onto his skin.

And if every visit ends up with him bent over the tattoo chair, or down on his knees to “thank you”, then who will judge him.

John would end up finally acknowledging his feelings when you save him from his big bad of the week, using your complex and intricate tattoos to pull out weapons and spells, and later seal the being that’s after him.

Its hard to deny how he feels after that, and though he wouldn’t put it into words, he would act differently. Like just showing up at your parlor to spend time with you without getting anything done, or sending you little protection charms or trinkets.

At some point you guys just start kissing and acting like a couple, without actually putting a name to it. It’s a dangerous life you both live, and words mean everything, so you never tell anybody you guys are lovers, since that would make the target on you both even bigger.

It doesn’t keep you guys from pretty much living together and acting all domestic, or being completely exclusive to just each other. John turning down all advances made on him confuses people in the beginning, until they just come to accept it.

John ends up with even more tattoos, these a lot more complex than average useable seals. These are the kinds that you have spent your entire life developing, and had only used on yourself because they’re that powerful.

The league are knocked back by how powerful his spells have become, and how much damage he can withstand. Only other magic users with the knowledge know just how amazing his tattoos are. He never tells them where he got them, just because he’s an ass.

You end up helping out more with his business, and he ends up being free advertisement for your parlor. Of course, no one gets tattoos like you or John, you would never give a possible enemy that kind of power, but it helps pad your pockets quite a lot.

John’s enemies end up targeting you as well, but they’re easily dealt with for the most part.

He ends up getting teased be friends and allies that he’s getting soft and domestic, cuz he doesn’t go out to bars like before, and wants to be home in time to watch a movie with you, or just go to sleep together.

He ends up a lot less stressed too, since you rock his world whenever he needs it, and become someone he can let down his defenses and just be vulnerable with.

In the end he probably gets pavloved to get in the mood when you tattoo him, or he hears the noise of the tattoo gun. John always blames you for making him this way, because you always go down on him after giving him new ink, not that he’s complaining.

361 notes · View notes

neuvieu · 4 months

Text

𓎟𓎟 synopsis. luxuries they allow you to have. imp. fem!reader.

note. HAPPY BIRTHDAAAAY WANDERER ! I'M LATE BUT OK. continuing this bc i can n i’m bored. & also i will repost the Alhaitham thing later. please don't flop.

cw. totally fluff warning, but a slight angst in childe if you really care.

WANDERER ✦ do his eyeliner.

He knows how to do it, obviously. Wanderer has practiced this for most of his life.

You already asked him to do it on you, but he refused.

It was automatic and sincerely, he was going to do it to you if he could come back with these words, but he then thought that he had never done it to anyone else either and he didn't want to embarrass himself in front of you

Seeing his shoulders fall down like a balloon full of air that was just released by accident, he feels bad. Then he lets out a groan, crossing his arms.

“Fine, you stupid... Listen, I won't do it for you, but you can do it for me if you really want it. Now stop that crying face and hurry up.” Despite his harsh words, his tone is as soft as ever with you as he sits, contradicting himself when he sees a smile appear on your lips again as you run to get the makeup, which he waits for patiently, despite telling you that you should hurry.

Once you get all the necessary things, you sit down in front of him, piercing eyes meeting yours before you gently cup his chin, which brings a spark of confusion to his eyes at receiving such a gentle touch. Sure you had been together for a while now, but he never got used to it.

When you bring the brush closer to his eye, he closes his eyes obediently, still aware of your touch on his chin. He doesn't move away, but rather rests his chin in his hand, trusting you completely as he feels the coldness of the ink contour the corner of his eyes. Wanderer hears you hum a few times as you touch his eye with precision, spreading the paint in the right places on the makeup. Although he normally complains a lot, he seems very... at peace now.

When you finish, you still hold his chin as you move the brush away, lingering for a while on his still closed eyes, keeping this vision in your memory.

“Are you going to take a long time yet?”

You let out a nervous laugh. “I finished.”

You then let go of his chin, making him open his eyes. You move away, putting the brush in place before bringing him a mirror, placing it in front of him so he can see how his eyes turned out.

He stares for a moment, part of his expression looking like he's evaluating something important while the other part looks like he's just looking casually, before he lets out a sigh, closing his eyes.

“Doesn't look bad to me.” he bites the inner corner of his mouth to avoid a smile while giving his comment neutrally.

Wanderer would never admit that, but it's moments like this that really matter to him, when you take care of him and when you show that you want to spend time with him.

CHILDE ✦ playing guitar with you.

Childe was always good at everything, the instruments weren't left out.

He always missed home a lot and this was something he did often when he was getting Teucer ready for bed.

But you've been part of his family for a long time, so why not share this custom with you?

When he gets home from work and you're still not asleep, he quickly gets ready and then picks up the guitar, sitting next to you.

It's really a shame that you two have to wake up early tomorrow because he could do this all night, you already had a song together. Oh, he could also teach you a thing or two!

This morning, Childe, your boyfriend, had sent a letter, decorated with a whale sticker in the corner and hurried handwriting that let you know that he wouldn't arrive until later this time.

You would be lying if you said that whenever you receive a letter like this you get worried, which results in extreme difficulty sleeping at night. You know that news could come at any moment and was afraid it might come too soon.

So when you hear a pair of keys turn on your front door, you immediately let out a sigh, but before you can get out of bed, Childe had already entered the room in a hurry, crawling over you and kissing your lips, nose, eyes, cheeks, everything he can reach. A laugh escapes your lips at the loving attack, wrapping your hands around Childe's neck who was still worried about kissing you and saying excited and sweet words.

When Childe arrives later, he always makes sure it's clean and bandaged, so he can have more time with you. Otherwise, he would let you tend to his every wound. That wasn't the case this time, but you can see his bandaged hands as he rests them on the side of your head or his bandaged neck as he looks at you.

“Aja-”

He kisses your lips.

“Ajax, bae-”

“Kiss.” he cuts you off and then kisses you again. He really missed you. “One last one to close with three kisses, ok?” He says and then gives you another quick kiss, his smile matching your lips, which are connected to his. When he pulls away, he looks at you, his lifeless eyes so full of love for you. “How are you, my sweetie? You should be sleeping.”

You chuckle, then run your fingers through the orange strands of his hair, twirling one around your index finger. ”You know I can't sleep when you're away.”

Childe hums gently as you speak, his blue eyes focused on how your lips move and he runs his thumb across them.

“Wait a moment, I'll get the guitar!”

The freckled boy says with a smile, capturing your lips in a quick kiss as if you were going to disappear if he didn't before pulling away, the lack of weight making a slight noise in the bed.

So you take the opportunity to sit down while he comes back, already barefoot since he came home and now getting comfortable on the bed, sitting next to you.

“What are we going to create this time?” you question him, tilting your head to the side in curiosity as you tuck a strand behind your ear. Until, in one quick movement, he puts the guitar aside, grabbing you by the waist and placing you between his legs, resting his lips on your shoulder.

“We're not going to create, I want to teach you how to play our music. So when you're missing me, you can play to calm down and then try to sleep later.” he says without any joking, although his characteristic but now oh-so-gentle smile is painting across his features. He's happy, but he also feels a pang in his heart when he sees you sleepily waiting for him to arrive.

He pulls the guitar over the two of you, teaching you every note about the song, humming and looking at each other, laughing along with you when a mistake is made or when you repeat the same note several times, looking chessy to be honest... But he loves to look cheesy with you.

NEUVILLETTE ✦ do his hair.

His hair is always so wild when he wakes up, so he always ends up leaving you in bed earlier than expected so he can deal with his hair and then go to work.

Also, please help him, he is so lazy to do his hair but he needs to look presentable. His appearance also matters in his work.

At first he will just say no to your help. Please don't misunderstand him, he just doesn't want you to touch his hair and much less wants to disturb your sleep, since you have to wake up just two hours after him.

This doesn't seem to have worked though.

Then a calm morning dawned in Fontaine, it had been a while since it rained, always a pleasant time every night that Neuvillette slept and then woke up next to you again. His routine was always like this: waking up, looking at you for a moment and then getting ready for work, always leaving a good morning letter for when you woke up and he was no longer there.

Until the day you simply woke up while he was getting dressed, your gentle movement causing the covers that moved above you to now make a soft noise. You rub your eyes when you only see a tall figure in your blurred, sleep-clouded vision, murmuring your beloved's name. The figure then stops for a moment, turning his head towards you before finishing getting dressed.

“I'm sorry, sweetheart. Did I wake you up?” He says winking in your direction, turning to face you. Then you come across the cutest sight in the world, Neuvillette's hair a mess, his blue barbels being the only thing in the place.

A laugh then settles in your chest, escaping your lips when you see him like this. Even though it's a sleep laugh, still warms your husband's heart. “Do you need help with your hair?”

He shakes his head, declining your offer. “No, I do this every day. Don't worry.” you pout slightly, standing up before moving towards him and smiling sweetly at him, like a child who wants candy. “Aw, please, my beloved husband, I want to help.”

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“I'm asking so politely.”

“And I'm politely declining.”

“Please, please, please.” you whimper, now gripping the fabric of his expensive clothing sleeve...

...He doesn't know how he ended up here, but now you're fixing his hair with a victorious smile while he stands with his arms and legs crossed in front of the mirror in a strict manner, his eyes closed. He liked the feeling of you playing with his hair more than he should admit, almost falling asleep again. Your touch is always so delicate when it comes to him and he recognizes that. Also, this was much faster when you did that, saving the man time.

As soon as you finish your hair and he finishes getting ready, he says goodbye to you with a kiss on your forehead, handing you the good morning letter that he usually leaves on the bedside table. Then he can finally work.

At the beginning of the next day however, he gently wakes you up, not wanting to scare you. So when you blink at him, muttering something incoherent but already conscious and then, all you can hear is: “You have to do my hair today or I'll be late, sweetheart.”

172 notes · View notes

gurugirl · 10 months

Text

A Balancing Act | Ch. 4*

Series Summary: Harry is a famous, rich, handsome, pop star and he’s been in therapy since his boy band days. When he meets Y/n, a beautiful and successful artist, he cannot take no for an answer when it comes to her. He’s determined to make her his even if he has to bend the rules a little at first.

Chapter Summary: Harry brings Y/n with him on his European tour but when Y/n decides she needs a break to figure things out Harry is beside himself. He's sure she's going to break up with him but she's sure he doesn't want the same things she does. When they finally talk will they both be on the same page?

Warning: 18+ only, NSFW, smut, dom/sub dynamic, angst, DDlg kink,

Word Count: 12.5k

Commissioned by @cinnamonone (thank you!! xoxo)

A Balancing Act Masterlist

A balancing act requires soft poise and harmonious alignment. The joining of differing needs and wants to acquiesce for a perfect, or nearly perfect outcome. One can’t have more than the other. All sides must be used to make a point. The leveling of opinion and decision coupled with the desire to satisfy the ideal effect.

“Put that down. It doesn’t do any good.”

Y/n looked up at Harry who’d placed his palm over her phone to cover her screen. She was trying not to obsess about the pictures of herself. There were so many. And now that she’d been seeing Harry for a few months and was on tour with him in Europe, the gossip abounded. It was wild how quickly everyone learned her name, her age, the fact that she had been married, where her art pieces were showing, and even what kind of car she drove. It was… a lot.

“I know but they’ve caught me in the worst outfit and angle and these comments-“

“Please don’t do that,” Harry spoke as he sat down next to her and slid the phone from her hands, “You’re a knockout. I’ve never once looked at you and thought otherwise. None of that matters. Okay? It’s us. You and me.”

She nodded as he pulled her into his side and kissed the top of her head, “I know. But still. I’m just not used to any attention. Not like this.”

“The best thing you can do is to ignore it and don’t look at the articles.”

But of course, that was easier said than done. Going to Europe with him had been a whirlwind. So many fans and friends and his family, day trips, flights, drivers, shopping, studio sessions, meetings, rushing, concerts, flowers, kissing, late-night talking, falling deeper for the man, and sex. There was a lot of sex.

It was stressful. It was fun, though, too. And she enjoyed spending time with Harry in his world but there was very little time for herself in her own world. She didn’t put paint, or ink on canvas the entire time she was with Harry in Europe. She never found the time, even though she had downtime, her inspiration waned. When Harry was in the studio writing, jamming, and making music she didn’t normally go. In fact, after going with him only twice she realized how awkward it was for her to be there. He was working with his band and his team. She was of no use there with him. She felt like she was just in the way. And she didn’t want to be the kind of girlfriend that followed him around like a puppy everywhere.

So she stayed in the hotel or in the villa or wherever they were staying depending on the leg of the trip. She’d venture out to go to cafes by herself, do some shopping, or just to walk around but it became a game of dodging people on the street who started to recognize her. Pictures and videos were taken without her consent. Later she’d see some of the photos in gossip articles and comments saying how she called the paps on herself because why on earth would anyone want a photo of her?

The hate came quickly. The vitriol for a woman that no one knew. Her social media accounts were stalked, screenshots taken and posted on other social media accounts about her and her art and what kind of person she might be based on old posts she’d long forgotten.

One old post on Instagram was of her out on her bachelorette party before she was married. It was a series of six photos. She was wearing something a little bit skimpy, but nothing too crazy. Most of the pictures showed her with a drink in hand, one of her dancing with some man she didn’t know, and the last one was of her the next morning with mangled hair and smeared makeup, a mimosa raised upward, and the words printed over the photo ‘hair of the dog’.

That one got a lot of attention. She was an alcoholic party girl, too fat to be wearing something so revealing, ugly, a slut (for dancing with a man), and the worst insult was “no wonder her ex divorced her”.

Yes, Harry’s fans learned that she had been married. Some knew that her husband had died (she wasn’t sure how they knew). But most assumed she was divorced because she didn’t post publicly about the tragic loss she endured. It was no one’s business, but for people who didn’t know her to make wild assumptions about what had occurred in her marriage was the most hurtful.

But on the other side of that were the fans that simply refused to believe he could be dating Y/n. Many were convinced Harry was either already in a relationship with an ex-band member from his boyband days or it was all for public relations. That her “team” and his “team” were in on something together for publicity. Because that would be the only explanation. Harry would never stoop so low as to date someone like Y/n. Someone who looked like Y/n. Couldn’t be. The Harry “they knew” would never.

Then of course there were those that thought she was simply using Harry’s fame to boost her own popularity in the art world. She was a leech, a sneak, conniving… It all hurt. She wasn’t sure she could stomach much more. And yes, it was true that interest in her art was boosted. Which she really didn’t like because it was more to the fact that “this is a piece of art painted by Harry Style’s girlfriend” rather than a painting that was pleasing to the eye and worth the price tag.

And Harry’s late nights at the studio and after a concert were tiresome. She had been catapulted into this strange reality with a famous man that she felt herself falling for. But how did she fit in with it all? She couldn’t see herself finding her place with him. It all felt very temporary. And the fact that she’d lost the inspiration to create herself was troublesome. The plan was that she could still paint and travel with him and they’d get to be together. She didn’t have to stay home to paint. It was supposed to be easy. But it wasn’t.

But as awful as all that was, she and Harry got closer. He’d arrive late to their bed, crawling over her and wrapping her up in his arms. Normally she’d wake up and nuzzle into him and sigh as they both fell asleep. Sometimes Harry wasn’t ready to go to sleep and he was very persuasive. If he wanted her, well, he had her. She looked forward to, with impatience, having sex with Harry.

Harry had changed her entire view on sex. It was nothing like she’d ever experienced before. Prior to Harry, sex was just sex. It was usually good. Sometimes she’d orgasm. But with Harry, it wasn’t just sex. It was the joining of two separate beings in an act that was vulnerable, exciting, novel, and made Y/n’s heart thrash about in her chest from nerves and thrill. She hadn’t realized how addicted she’d become to what he did. How he handled her body and her mind.

Usually, though, she and Harry had sex during the day. With the sun in the sky, curtains open, and people milling about. She had always been used to nighttime, lights out, on her marital bed sex. Harry liked to have sex anywhere. And he liked to see it all. All of her bits. He’d kiss and praise and then spank her if she tried to hide herself. They had fun together. Sex hadn’t ever been so fun. And she slowly started to see her body in a different light.

After his last show in Paris, she went to his dressing room, like she always did after a show, and he scooped her into his arms and kissed her broadly on the lips in front of everyone. He was hard.

A small gasp fell from her lips as she craned her neck back to look up at him in surprise. He only winked down at her, swiftly turned her around, and placed his hands on her shoulders. He was literally using her body to block his erection from view of his bandmates and the event staff.

When Mitch and Sarah finally made their way to their shared dressing room Harry told his assistant he didn’t need help and dragged her to his big couch after locking the door.

“Need you to take your panties off right now,” Harry spoke as he unbuttoned his pants and kept his eyes on her.

Y/n was wearing a cute maxi dress that was comfy and easy to dance in. She learned that she needed to wear clothes that were comfortable at Harry’s concerts because there was lots of dancing. But she also wanted to look cute because there was never a shortage of photos of her, no matter how much she hated that part. And if she wasn’t dancing she was a fake, a bad girlfriend, a fat blob. Oh, but of course, even if she did dance then that meant she was trying too hard, making herself look ridiculous, and then there was the odd comment about how she was too large to be attempting to dance at all.

She pushed those thoughts down as she lifted the bottom of her dress upward and slid her panties down her legs as Harry pulled a small belt with a ball at the center out of his bag. His pants were undone but his underwear was bulging at the crotch, his cock pressing outward with strain. He stood over her where she was sat on the couch and took her panties from her hands and then motioned for her to turn around, “Face the wall, get on your knees.”

“Harry what are you-“ her words turned into a yelp as he smacked her bottom.

“Do you fucking never learn?” He leaned in and spoke quietly, his voice deep and dark, “You’ll be getting paddled tonight for that mistake. Address me properly.”

Cursing under her breath she squeezed her eyes closed. She didn’t know what it was that didn’t allow her to so easily fall into just calling him Daddy like he wanted. She needed lots of reminders and her bruised bottom was proof of all of her forgetful little moments.

Part of her secretly loved it. Enjoyed the thrill of needing to be corrected and not simply giving in to him all the time.

“Sorry. Daddy. What are you doing?” Her tone clearly sardonic.

Harry raised his brows and shook his head, ignoring her mouthiness, “I’m going to fuck you against the couch and gag you so no one hears you. Now, turn around pretty girl.”

She pulled herself to her knees and turned so her palms were clutching the leather at the top of the couch and immediately felt Harry’s hands pulling her dress up so her bum was fully exposed and issued another sharp swat to her left side. She jolted in shock before turning to watch Harry behind her.

Harry brought his hands up, her panties in hand, and swiftly pulled the material over her eyes, tying the sides to the back of her head to keep it in place.

“Uh, those are expensive! You’ll stretch them!” She countered as the material hung over her sight.

Harry chuckled darkly and she felt his lips at her ear, “Who bought them for you, baby? I’ll buy you more. Don’t worry about it. Now, keep that mouth open.”

She opened her mouth quickly and felt the silicon ball take its place in her mouth, as he adjusted the buckle to the back of her head. She was unable to see or speak as she was pushed forward, her chest being pressed into the couch. Her bottom was still uncovered and she felt the cool air of the dressing room on her skin as Harry gently caressed her flesh down to where her legs were bent at her knees and over the backs of her calves and ankles before spreading her legs further apart.

“Keep your hands on the wall behind the couch, like this,” Harry moved his palms over her arms until he reached her wrists and pulled her arms out so she kept her hands flat on the wall, causing her back to arch the slightest.

“Good girl. So hot. Unbelievable baby. Daddy’s gonna have a taste now.”

She couldn’t see much or speak at all but she could certainly hear and feel. And the moment Harry’s tongue licked up through her crease her mind shifted into another gear. Harry had eaten her out in this position before. Behind her, his nose at her bum. At first, it gave her a lot of hesitancy, worried she smelled or tasted odd. But he always insisted she was delicious and he could eat her for dinner every night for the rest of his life. His reassurances had her at ease, but it still always gave her pause.

Harry moaned into her pussy as he licked and kissed. His hands were on her ass, spreading her apart as he softly licked, licked, licked… wet and hot from clit to ass, from clit to ass, clit to ass… He spat over her and stuffed two fingers into her cunt and she squealed into the gag, the sound hardly heard in the room. Harry chuffed a laugh at her muffled noises.

Soon she was soppy and achy. Harry noticed how she was pushing herself back into him. That’s where he liked to get her. To the point she was seeking her own pleasure. Where she was so worked up she wanted more.

Harry sat back and stood from the couch and pulled his cock out from his underwear. He pressed his hips into her bottom and brushed his hands over her waist, pushing her dress higher, “Daddy needs his cock milked now. So fucking horny for you, sweet girl.”

She grunted in relief when he pushed into her. It was always a welcome moment. To have his dick inside of her, parting her insides and nudging into her cervix. He was curved in such a way that his wide cock pushed into her front wall on each stroke anytime she was in this position while he was fucking into her.

She kept her hands on the wall as he pounded into her and she steadied herself the best she could but Harry was strong and he always went in with such force that it caused her a good jolt forward on each snap of his hips. Delicious.

When his long fingers wrapped around the front of her neck he squeezed the sides and slowed his plunges, “Wish everyone could hear us. Could hear how filthy your pussy gets when I fuck it. How creamy you are. Wish they could hear how it sounds to have my cock slipping deep into your wet hole.”

Y/n felt her cheeks burn and her head get foggy under the pressure of his fingers on her throat. His thrusts increased again and the couch rocked under them into the paper-thin wall Y/n used to keep herself held up.

A knock at the door and a muffled voice from behind had Harry slowing down but never stopping, “M’busy! Be out in a bit!”

She couldn’t hear whatever was said from behind the door because her ears were ringing. Harry’s cock inside of her gave her tunnel vision. She almost didn’t care if anyone heard at that point. Her body felt so good, her pussy being worked open and split down the middle, her guts rearranged, her ass smacked, throat choked.

“Fans want me out there, but I needed you first didn’t I baby?” Harry’s thrusts were sloppy and harsh as he panted his words, “Daddy wants to fuck his come into you so you’ll be out there with everyone while my sperm drips out of your pussy and down your legs. My dirty little come hole. But that’s what Daddy’s little girl likes, isn’t it? Fuck…” Harry looked down at where he was being gripped by Y/n. Her tight little pussy working its magic on him.

Y/n’s telltale signs were beginning to show. Her thighs were shaking and her back was arching and she was grinding herself onto him each time he’d pull back. She was going to come.

Harry choked out a loud groan into the room, “Fuck! I’m gonna come!”

He reached down to rub her clit just as he began to pour into her pussy. He clenched his teeth and moaned into her ear. With the angle he needed to reach her clit his chest was pressed into her back, his stiff and sharp movements were forceful into her and she felt her own orgasm follow moments later. Thanks to his long fingers that knew just what to do and where to press to get her off.

Drool slid down her chin and to her clavicle as she came. The noise of the couch still creaking under her knees as Harry continued pushing into her increased in sound.

Harry hissed and moaned and kissed the back of her neck as he kept himself stuffed inside of her as she spasmed around him, squeezing his cock of all he had and letting it drain into her. A beautiful symphony of sex in the dressing room.

Harry laughed as he removed the gag and the panties from her face. She had small marks that dug into her skin from the fabric of the panties and the leather of the belt.

“God you’re gorgeous. Gonna go out there with me to meet the fans with my come slipping out of your cunt all night? Hmm?” Harry teased as she straightened her dress out and caught her breath.

And of course, that’s exactly what happened. She walked around and met some fans. Most didn’t know who she was. Some knew her as the girl that had been spending time with Harry. Others joked that she was following him around and that he didn’t want her there.

One pretty young thing, probably still in college, went from having her picture taken with Harry to making a snide remark to Y/n, “I love how you don’t care how you look when you dance.”

To which Y/n replied, “I’m just having fun out there like everyone else,” as she shook her hand (which she hadn’t yet washed after being fucked into oblivion) and felt Harry’s orgasm dripping down her thigh.

There was something so poetic about that moment. The secret that she and Harry shared. The reason why he was 20 minutes late to greeting his fans backstage. And Y/n was the bearer of said secret. Literally, since his come was still inside of her.

And that was just one of many times Harry fucked her in his dressing room. It became a regular thing. He’d gag her to keep her quiet but anyone who stood close enough to the door could hear him moaning and the sounds of skin smacking together and couches rocking. But no one ever said anything. It was Harry’s show after all.

There was one time when they went to an event. The lovely space was packed with people and the table they sat at was mostly Harry’s crew. Jeff and Tom were there and some others. All were people Y/n had gotten to know on some level.

And as per usual, Harry was horny. Y/n had gotten used to his extremely high libido and surprised herself even when she matched him in it. She hadn’t realized she was this way until Harry came along.

She was wearing a custom dress. Nothing like she’d ever had the chance to wear before. She’d worn lovely dresses and her wedding dress, she thought, would have been the nicest article of clothing she’d ever wear. But this dress… this dress was absolutely superior to anything she’d ever laid on her body. She loved it. It fit her so well and flattered her curves and made her feel pretty.

“Want to bend you over this table and spank you so hard right now. Tear this dress off you and make you ride my cock right here at the table,” Harry spoke into her ear as their plates of food were being placed in front of them.

Y/n just smiled and nodded as she listened to him tell her what he wanted to do. That was something she also had started to get used to. He’d do things like this in public and it startled her at first, but after some time she started to enjoy it.

When everyone began eating Harry lowered his hand to her thigh and pulled her dress up. No one could see what he was doing from under the table but Y/n felt it. The material of the dress was slowly lifted until he’d pushed the fabric up enough that he could smooth his palm up between her plush thighs and tickle her pussy with the tips of his fingers.

Y/n let out a gasped laugh and leaned forward before turning to look at Harry in surprise. He only smirked back at her and lifted his brows, “You okay, my dear?”

And Harry usually got his way. If he wanted something he could pretty much always get it. Just like how he wanted her to spread her legs wider so he could have access, she gave it to him. Just like how he wanted to slide two fingers into her cunt, she let him.

To everyone at the table, Harry was holding her thigh. Nothing more. He continued to chat and make jokes as he softly fucked his fingers into Y/n’s pussy.

And the thing about this was that he couldn’t apply much pressure, if any, to her clit, so he fingered her for nearly the entire duration of their dinner. His hand was wet between her legs as he continued slow, meaningful thrusts of his fingers into her.

She was on edge. So absolutely wrecked and worked up that Sarah interrupted the conversation at the table, “Y/n. Are you okay?”

Her chest was rising and falling fast. Harry paused his movements and looked over at his lover and realized, she was indeed a mess. Had barely touched her food when everyone else had just about finished and was panting and sweating. He smiled.

“Oh! Yeah. I… probably should,” she paused to hold back her gasp as Harry pushed his thumb over her clit, “go to the bathroom. Real quick! I’ll be right back!”

Harry was forced to remove his hand from between her thighs and she pushed her skirt down and quickly walked to the hallway where she knew the restrooms were.

Harry excused himself from the table with the excuse to check on her.

Y/n was already rubbing at her clit to make herself come in the stall when Harry barged into the bathroom, “Y/n. Come out, baby. Let me take care of you.”

Her eyes widened and she was quick to walk out of the stall. She needed him badly, “Please, your cock, Daddy,” she said as she lifted her dress and Harry pushed her to lean over the sink and pulled his cock out on her request. He was already hard. Fingering her and feeling her clench around him as she grew wetter and wetter each minute had done him in.

Her panties were ruined. He pushed the drenched material to the side and plunged into her softly as they both moaned, “Rub that pretty little clit for Daddy, baby. Get yourself off.”

It was probably the quickest fuck they’d ever had. Four minutes tops. Y/n was already on fire as her orgasm burst from her core and Harry held her cheeks apart so he could watch his cock, covered in her arousal, slip in and out, in and out until she was coming and shaking and gasping.

White gobs of her come stuck at his base as he continued fucking into her deep and he finally came, filling her to the brim with his come. He pulled out to watch himself drip from her pussy and then pushed himself back in to keep his sperm inside of her where it belonged, “Holy fuck, baby. Your pussy is incredible. Just taking my come like it’s nourishment. Fucking Jesus Christ.”

It felt so good to have Harry inside of her after nearly a half hour of slow, sensual torture with his fingers.

And as they both enjoyed, Y/n dripped of him when they went back to the table to join their friends. No one knew but Harry and Y/n and that was half the fun.

So, yeah, sex with Harry was incredible. Exciting. He never let her feel like she was lacking. He loved using tools on her. Tying her up, clamping her tits and her skin, toys, spanking, spreader bars, cuffs… She’d gotten a taste of what he liked and she loved it all.

And she was pretty sure she loved Harry too. He was the sweetest man. Very attentive and gentle, thoughtful, funny, and honest. But of course, when they were in bed he was dominant and loved to put her in her place but that only added to how much she really liked him. The duality of his nature was exciting to her. And she began to feel more comfortable with her body around him. He never once made her feel bad about her size. He clearly loved every bit of her chub.

So after their whirlwind European trip she was back in Illinois at home and trying to paint while Harry was in LA in the studio working on music and other business endeavors he’d started. They talked every night. She thought the distance would be good for her to focus on her work again but it was like she was blank. Her thoughts were only filled with Harry and what he was doing and the articles with her pictures and comments…

One evening, though, she did have a spark of inspiration. She began sketching out her canvas and mixing colors and finally, after nearly a two-month dry spell, put her brush against the canvas and began to paint. It felt good. She was suddenly struck with the need to create. Hours of building a piece with color and space and lines felt like things had felt before she met Harry.

Her fingers were green and her overalls were splattered and soiled from linseed oil and various hues she’d used on her work when her phone rang. Looking up at the clock she realized it was already 9 pm. Which was the time Harry normally called her every night before he went to the studio (it was 7 pm in LA).

She wiped her hands down her clothes and cursed as she rushed to grab the phone before the call went to voicemail.

It was a Facetime call because of course it was.

“Hello?” She rang out and adjusted the screen so she could see Harry and he could see her. She tried smoothing out her hair and wiping the smudges from her face but there was little she could do to repair her current appearance.

“Hi, baby. I miss you! How are you today?” Harry spoke, his face very close to the phone, and then as he stilled himself and the screen became clear she realized he wasn’t at home. A club perhaps. Maybe someone’s house. Definitely not the studio.

“I’m good. Was just painting a bit. Finally got a spark of creativity tonight. How are you? What are you up to right now?”

Harry sighed and grinned widely, she could tell he seemed a tiny bit tipsy, “I’m at a party and I’ve been telling everyone about you. Wish you were here so you could meet everyone. We’re just chilling, had a couple drinks, then I’m going into the studio in about an hour. Gonna be an all-nighter.”

Y/n nodded and smiled. She wasn’t surprised by any of this. He normally got into the studio late and stayed until 3 or 4 am. He was most creative at that time he told her once.

“Sounds fun. Wish I was there too.”

Just then a young woman nudged into Harry’s shoulder and came in to view on the screen, “Y/n!! It’s you! I’ve heard so much about you!”

She was clearly also tipsy. And just as she was about to respond to the mystery woman she watched as the girl threw her arm over Harry’s shoulder and licked her pink tongue up his neck before kissing it. And it wasn’t just a peck of a kiss. It was quite sensual in fact. As if she were trying to give him a hickey.

Harry laughed and pushed at the girl, prying her arm from him and the girl waved her hand at the video just before moving elsewhere.

“Sorry, Jess is clingy tonight,” Harry smiled and licked his lips.

“Oh is she? Has she been trying to give you a hickey all night then?” Y/n couldn’t help the bit of jealousy that coursed through her. She figured at that point she could trust him. He was a big flirt and she knew this about him. He gave off the wrong impression to people all the time. She’d seen women trying to shoot their shot and he would eventually have them back off but many of them never assumed he was in a relationship. She’d even overhead some women (when she was backstage after concerts) bragging about how they kissed Harry or how they thought they had a shot because he'd been staring at them, which turned out to not be true of course. But it didn’t make the sting feel better.

“No. No, of course not, baby. I wouldn’t let her do that. Only you’re allowed to mark me up.”

“But she’s allowed to lick you and kiss you?”

Harry paused and suddenly the screen was blurry as he appeared to moving through the space to somewhere different.

“Wait, hold on, Y/n.” The screen went dark but she could hear shuffling and some voices until the video showed his handsome face again but now he was outside.

“Please, baby. That was not… she’s been flirting with me a little but it’s all in fun. She’s just a friend. I would never do anything to ruin what you and I have. You know that. God, I wish you were closer so I could tell you in person and see you after the studio. Wake up to you, make love to you…” he trailed off as he spoke but kept his eyes on the screen, his face set in defeat.

“I know how you are, Harry. So I get it. But doing that right in front of me? Kind of tacky. Was she trying to make me jealous? If so, I’d say she’s not a friend.”

Harry groaned and leaned his back to a bench and nodded, “I’ll stay away from Jess. She’s just been finding me all night. I mean, I’ve known her for years so… but you’re right. Sorry.”

Y/n nodded and flattened her lips together. She really hated this. Hated feeling jealous when she figured it wasn’t necessary, hated not being with him, hated how famous he was and how everyone wanted him…

After his call with Y/n, he was careful to dodge Jess. And he hadn’t really been paying much mind to her to be quite honest. Yes, she’d been kind of all over him but he was used to that. Except now he needed to think about his girlfriend and what she might think and how it could be perceived in public. Not that any of the photos from this particular party would come out to the public – it was exclusive and contracts were signed promising privacy and respect of others.

Jess was a friend of Tommy’s and she was often invited to the parties like this and so Harry had gotten to know her over the years. She was always flirty but the question that Y/n brought up was valid. Was Jess trying to make Y/n jealous? It was inappropriate for her to kiss his neck like that when he thought about it with a clear head. Even if he wasn’t on the phone with his girlfriend, that was too intimate of a gesture to be innocent. He couldn’t allow things like that anymore. Not if he wanted to keep Y/n happy. And he didn’t want those kinds of intimate touches from anyone else these days. He missed his girlfriend.

His studio session was productive. He got a lot of writing done and set some vocals down for recording too. But he was still thinking about Y/n. Thinking about how they got off the phone and he’d apologized and she said she was fine but he knew she might not really be. They were too far apart and the distance was a problem. Harry was used to some distance in relationships. It was part of the package that he came with. But he hated it with Y/n more than ever.

He was in love with her. Deeply and madly. In fact many of the songs he started to write after meeting her had something to do with her in one way or another. He couldn’t get her off his mind. He’d dated around and had a couple of serious relationships in the past, but no one left a mark on his heart like Y/n had.

. . .

“I’m feeling like I need her with me all the time. But when I offered to fly her out and have her stay here with me in LA she said she thought the distance would be good. I’m going crazy, Pat. I don’t know if she is starting to think about breaking up with me or what. I don’t want her to leave me. But she’s been so aloof lately.”

Pat shifted her leg to cross over her opposite and listened. The man wouldn’t stop talking about Y/n. Every one of their sessions had been dominated by discussions about his new relationship. Harry was sensitive deep down. He had his shit together and he was many times nonchalant about dating and matters of the heart in public, but Pat knew the truth. He was sweet and his heart was delicate.

“Just let her sus everything, Harry. You can’t push her and you know that. She’s probably going through some growing pains with you. You’re uber-famous and everyone loves you and to her, it probably feels like she’s just your girlfriend who gets a lot of mean things printed about her. It’s very likely overwhelming. Maybe she’s trying to get her head on straight and figure out what’s best for her.”

“But what if she learns that she’s better off without me?”

Pat chuckled, “What if she does? Would you still want to force her to be with you?”

Harry sighed deeply and frowned, “I guess I wouldn’t want to make her do anything she didn’t like. But that’s the thing. I know she and I have something special. When we’re together it’s like everything just makes sense. I don’t want her to let all the awful things people make up about her be how she makes her decision. Because what she and I have is incredible.”

“But you’re seeing this from your point of view. Not hers. Give her space if she needs it. Keep open communication but let her decide what she can handle.”

He didn’t like the idea that Y/n would decide he wasn’t worth it. He’d finally found the one he thought was his soulmate. The one he loved and wanted to be with for the rest of time, but now she was stepping back. Putting more space between them than he liked.

And when he offered to come to her she declined that suggestion as well. Stating it would be better to be apart for a bit. Which indicated to Harry she was done or at least considering that idea. But he couldn’t understand it! How could she be done with him? He was so far from done with her. He’d never want to be “done” with her. He wanted to marry her, have babies with her, take her with him everywhere, curl into her body, and let his skin sink into hers for all eternity.

He partly blamed the night he talked to her when Jess made her unfortunate appearance and partly the fans. Harry loved his fans. He enjoyed interacting with them most of the time. He loved the attention and the enthusiasm they gave him. He loved creating for them. But they were the ultimate cock block if there ever was one. Every relationship he’d tried to maintain while being famous had, in the end, been affected deeply by his fans. Social media was brutal as it was, but when fans got ahold of the articles and posted pictures and got “involved” it only led to awful things. Many times social media stirred the pot but the fans kept the lies and the assumptions (conspiracy theories even) flying and going on for longer than it was necessary. But it’s not like he could just drop his fans. They were what his empire was built on. He wouldn’t be doing what he was doing without them. It was all a balancing act.

“I think I’m gonna go see her. Just to talk face-to-face. I can’t go on not knowing what’s really happening and doing it over the phone is not giving me the whole picture.”

“Harry… I think it would be wise to keep her wishes in mind. You are a convincing and charismatic man and so for you to go to her in person could interrupt her rational critique. You could just be doing more harm to the relationship this way. It would be a hindrance more than anything. You might just be prolonging the inevitable and don’t you think it’s better to let things take their course naturally? You don’t always have to make all the moves and sway the outcome. This isn’t a business. This is love and relationship stuff. It doesn’t follow the same rules.”

. . .

Y/n had been feeling pretty good. Her mind was clear and her inspiration was at an all-time high. It had been a month since she’d seen Harry in person but they still spoke almost every night. She still loved him. She missed him, but the time apart felt necessary. Felt like she could grasp reality again.

But one thing was certain with the distance. It was that she couldn’t take not seeing him and touching him. She was thriving, but she was beginning to miss him more than she thought she would. Instead of getting easier, it got harder. Her nights would be spent thinking of him, what it would be like living with him, kissing him, marriage, babies… But she wasn’t sure if he was feeling like they were headed in that direction. Because if he didn’t feel like any of that was in their future then the relationship should be stopped. It couldn’t continue to jog along on the same path that it had been. They needed to progress and she needed to know he was committed to her and that he felt the same way. But as it was, their relationship was very good, it just wasn’t the kind of relationship that felt like it could move beyond what it was. She needed to tell him and be honest about what she wanted. Marriage, babies, 100% commitment… But what would happen once she told him all of this? Would he run for the hills? It could very well be the end of them.

. . .

She had insisted that he not come to the gallery where her work was displayed. It was in New York City and he begged to come. He told her he would take some time off before the next leg of his tour began. Told her that he had a beautiful spot he always stayed at and she could be with him and he’d take her out to his favorite restaurant in the city… but she said no. And Pat told him to listen to her.

Which was hard for him. Harry didn’t like being told no, and normally, no didn’t matter much (of course depending on the situation). Normally, he’d just go anyway and surprise her and dote on her, and in his mind, she’d be so happy and they’d have amazing sex and things would go back to how they were before she pushed for distance. But that’s not how it went.

Instead, she had a weekend in New York City without him. They spoke every night and she told him everything and he pleaded with her some more to let him come to her but she still said no.

On Sunday when they got off the phone Harry was beside himself. She had been too busy to really talk. She was getting on a flight to go back home so he understood why but that didn’t mean he was okay. He cried. He felt his heart drop and felt her slip away. She didn’t want to see him, she didn’t want his support, and she wouldn’t go to see him either… so what was left?

He’d been good and paying attention to, heeding Pat’s advice. He knew she was right. He knew he couldn’t force her hand in this. But God did it hurt. If only she’d let him visit her she’d see how good they were together. Nothing else mattered.

But he needed to know what she wanted. Because it didn’t feel like she wanted the same thing. They needed to talk, face-to-face, and he needed her to be direct. To rip off the band-aid once and for all. Then he could begin to heal and try to get over her.

When she called him the following day it was unexpected because it was much earlier than they usually had their calls and it was just a call, not a Facetime chat.

“Hi. How are you?”

Harry had had a lump in his throat for the last few days with his thoughts about her. About how she was going to end it. About how she didn’t really want to put in the effort to be with him. That he wasn’t worth it. That his fame and his fans were too much.

“I’m good. You’re calling a bit early. What’s going on?”

“I just had some really good news! A curator bought ten of my paintings and will be hosting an exhibit at David Kordansky and I’ve been invited to go as a guest of honor of sorts, amongst the other artists! It’s going to be all these big names. Oh my god, I’m so excited!”

Harry smiled widely, “Baby, I’m so proud of you. When is the exhibit?”

“It’s next weekend! And you know David Kordansky, right?”

“Uh… no. Sorry. Should I?”

Y/n giggled into the phone, “Oh… it’s just one of the biggest and most popular galleries in Los Angeles.”

Harry’s eyes went wide, “Here? You’re coming here?”

“Yes! God, I’m so excited! You’re the first person I’ve told and I just got the news right before calling you. So, I’m still processing it all. But yeah! And a bonus is that maybe you can come! If you want. If you can!”

“Absolutely. I’ll tell everyone I’m booked next weekend. Spending it with my girl.”

She sighed into the receiver with a big grin on her face, “I can’t wait to see you, Harry.”

. . .

Y/n was properly nervous. She had been trying to keep her distance from Harry but it had sort of backfired. She wanted to feel out the situation without his influencing nature and his hot body, and those pink lips pecking at her, his deep voice luring her to see it his way. The longer she was away the more she realized that she could barely breathe without him. She was so far gone for the guy that the distance only made her ache. Yes, she got a bit of her creative spark back, but she felt like that was more of an internal issue than it was to do with Harry.

But her nerves weren’t because she was going to see him after over a month. The nerves were because she needed to confront him with her real feelings and find out if he was on the same page. She had to know once and for all what he wanted. And if any of her ideas of where the relationship should head weren’t on Harry’s radar, well, it had to be over. They couldn’t continue like they were. It was perpetual limbo. Purgatory. She loved him and if she were younger with more time to spare she’d enjoy traveling with Harry and just having fun without expectation of where their final destination would land them. But as it was, she wanted to start having babies in the next few years. And if Harry didn’t then she’d need to start over and begin dating around. And that takes time. So she needed to get a move on. Find someone that wanted the same things she did. If that wasn’t Harry.

She had planned for the worst. All the scenarios in her mind led to them breaking up. She couldn’t imagine that Harry would be willing to settle down with her. He had the whole world at his fingertips. And she was just a girl from the Midwest. She really didn’t imagine that they had much more left to pick at. The pages stopped turning. The well had run dry. It was fun while it lasted.

Harry had his driver take him to the airport to pick her up. She told Harry she could just take a taxi but he didn’t want to miss a single moment with her. Wanted to see her the second she arrived in LA. And he was there. Waiting for her just as he said he would.

He scooped her into his arms and felt tears prick at his eyes, “Oh my god. Y/n… I missed you so much.”

She felt her heart swell and lurch with his arms around her and his lips on her forehead. Right in front of everyone in the airport. Photos were snapped and Harry didn’t care. He looked down at her and she noticed his eyes were glossy, “Harry…” she thumbed at his cheek, “Are you okay?”

Harry sniffed and the tip of his nose was red as he nodded, “I am now.”

She’d been to his house before they went away to Europe. They spent two days having sex and just staying in enjoying one another. Those two days were her favorite memories with Harry. Not that she hadn’t absolutely enjoyed everything else they’d done together and where they spent their time but there was something really special about being in his lovely home doing nothing with him and eating some of the best food she’d ever had (a combination of Harry’s cooking, delivery from some of the best restaurants in LA, and leftovers from a fancy catered party that Harry skipped but had requested two large bags full of yummies dropped off for them).

And the moment Harry had her in his house this time around, they were tearing clothes off and making love on his big bed. Harry didn’t bother with the clamps or ties or the belt this time. He just wanted her. Wanted to show her himself and how much he loved her. In fact, he planned on telling her he loved her soon. He needed her to know how he felt.

And the irony of it all was that Y/n was thinking the same thing. She wanted to tell him how she felt. He needed to know the truth and she needed to know where he stood. But they were both hesitating and it didn’t come out quite the way they intended.

“I think we should talk a little, Harry. I’ve had something on my mind for a bit. It’s… kind of important.”

They were both still naked lying on his bed when she blurted it out. Harry felt his stomach drop. He’d been constantly on edge that she was going to break up with him and he didn’t know if his heart could handle it.

So instead of talking he sat up quickly and got off the bed, “Yeah. Yeah. Let’s talk. Um, I need to take a shower first… and then uh… we can talk. Yeah.”

Harry cried in the shower. Preparing himself for the worst. Trying to get his emotions out and let his body soak in the warm water and calming scent of his shampoo. He was a mess. And he assumed it was over.

And to Y/n, him hopping out of bed like that and running off when she said they should talk, that move was his answer. He didn’t want to talk. He didn’t want to hear her truth. He had no intention of being committed or serious with her. He only wanted sex and fun. And that was great, but she was closing in on 30 and it was time to settle down and find love. And it was clear to her now, that Harry didn’t want that. Or at least not in the way she did.

She paced in his bedroom for a bit after dressing herself but when he was still showering, twenty minutes later she went downstairs and paced in his living room. She saw a bouquet of flowers near the front door at the table with a card in it and she automatically plucked the card out to read. It hadn’t occurred to her that she would be reading anything that could upset her. But she was caught off guard by the message.

“Let’s get dinner tonight, H. I miss you endlessly. Love – O”

She flipped the card over and there was nothing on the back except the name of the florist. No date anywhere. She didn’t know when these were delivered or if he’d had dinner with his ex. Her heart sank and her stomach felt heavy.

She slowly made her way back up the stairs and realized the shower was off. Harry was done. She found him standing on his balcony looking out over his garden. He hadn’t even bothered to find her. To see what she wanted to talk about that she said was important. He clearly didn’t care.

He took a 35-minute shower and then went out to chill on his balcony.

She considered just leaving without a word. Just calling an Uber and leaving for good. Getting a hotel room and forgetting about it all.

But now she was pissed.

She opened the balcony door and Harry was startled when he heard her approaching.

She laughed as she shook her head, “Forget I was even here huh?”

Harry scrunched his brows and shook his head but before he could respond she continued, “That’s okay. I get it. You and I aren’t on the same page. You’re having fun and you’re free and getting invited out to dinner with your ex, and-“

“Wait! What? I don’t-“

Y/n put her hand up, “You heard me. It’s okay. We never made any sort of promises or real commitments. Never said we’d wind up married or together in the end. You’re at your best and you deserve fame and fun and freedom. I’m only holding you back.”

Harry put his hands on her shoulders and shook his head, “No. Y/n… this was what I was worried about that you were-”

“That I want a real relationship? I’m almost 30. I can’t be playing around and traveling the world when I don’t know what you even want. And you just made it clear how disinterested in my concerns you really are-“

“Y/n. Please. What are you-“

“Stop. All you do is tell me what I should think and what I should do. You’re too… you pressure me to see things your way and you never listen. So now you listen to me.” She swallowed to gain her composure and looked up at him squarely so he understood how serious she was, “I can see now clearly, you have no interest in making a family with me. In being with me. You’re just having some fun. And that’s okay. But our fun has come to an end. I can’t go on like this anymore. I need to find someone who wants what I want. Someone who isn’t stuck on their ex and someone who will tell the whole world about me and not pretend that I’m just someone you hang out with.”

Harry shifted on his feet. He hadn’t expected this. In all the scenarios he ran in his mind she was breaking up with him and she didn’t want to be with him and he wasn’t worth it. But she was saying she wanted commitment. He smiled and opened his mouth but Y/n scoffed.

“See? You’re not even taking this seriously! Here I am telling you I’m breaking up with you and you’re smiling! You couldn’t give a shit!”

Harry’s smile fell from his face, “No I was… You’re breaking up with me? Y/n please-“

She pushed him off of her and backed away, “Go and enjoy dinner with Olivia or whoever. I’m out of here.”

Harry ran after her, “No! You can’t leave me! Please that’s not what happened. I didn’t even see her. And if you’d just listen-“

Y/n stomped her foot and turned to face the tall man. She pointed her finger at this chest, “I’m done listening. We’re done. You broke my heart.”

Harry shook his head and followed behind Y/n the whole way to the front door, pleading with her to stop so they could talk but she continued to cut him off.

“Stop! You don’t get to push me into making a decision anymore. It’s over.”

She gathered up her bags and shakily pulled her phone out to bring up her Uber app to call for a car. She was thankful all of her bags were still near the front door.

She rushed out of the house and Harry felt like he was going mad. She wouldn’t let him talk and explain and tell her that he wanted what she wanted. Every time his mouth opened she yelled for him to stop. Screamed even. Had he been so insufferable that this was how she reacted to him?

So he watched with tears in his eyes and his heart in his hands as she loaded her things into the Uber and left him standing at his gate.

He didn’t know what he would do. What could he do? He needed to let her cool off and then he’d go to her and have a conversation. He’d make her see that they’d been on the same page all along.

He called Mitch to get advice.

Mitch asked him why he hadn’t called Pat instead but Harry insisted his best friend would give him the best and most brutal advice, while also supporting him and wishing him luck. Which is actually what happened.

“Go and surprise her at the gallery. Do something ridiculously dramatic and then declare your love for her to everyone in the room. Something like that. I don’t know man. I think you two will work it out. You’re so good together. I think she just needed some time, ya know.”

Harry sighed, “Pat’s going to hate that. But I’ve got to do it, though, right? Do something absolutely nuts to get her to listen to me.”

. . .

Y/n had the worst, absolutely the most horrible, awful evening. She bawled her eyes out and barely slept. Harry hadn’t even tried reaching out to her. Not that she really wanted that. She half expected it. But it only solidified everything to her. She imagined he probably slept like a baby.

The following day was the exhibit. She was not prepared. Not mentally anyway. Her tears had barely dried by the time she was entering the gallery. She put on a happy face and forced herself to talk and smile. But she only felt the dread of what had happened the day before.

The curator greeted her, bringing a glass of champagne for her to sip, “I’m amazed by your work. I think your collection fits in so nicely here. But you know I’m holding on to all your pieces until one day someone offers me a million each for them,” he laughed and Y/n smiled. She doubted that would ever happen.

The evening should have been amazing. She was meant to have Harry with her and it was supposed to be a big night for her. Something that could potentially change the trajectory of her career. But Y/n wasn’t happy. Her exciting moment was clouded by thoughts of Harry and how she loved him but now it was over.

Through the doorway opposite the entrance was a small bar area. Guests could go get their drinks and then head back into the gallery. But there were a few bar tables and some stools. Y/n had been eyeing it all night. A moment to get away and sit by herself for a while.

The room was darker and quieter, even though it was open to the main gallery. The small high-top tables had four tall, cushioned stools around each. The only person in the bar was the bartender.

“Hi. Can I have a glass of chardonnay?” Y/n leaned into the bar and her eyes settled over the array of colorful bottles lined up behind the young lady who stood at the bar.

The young woman smiled, “Sure. Anything in particular? Would you like to see what I’ve got?”

“Not really. This is going to sound so bad, but just the cheapest one.”

Y/n dug into her small clutch to pull out her phone card and then waited as the young lady poured a glass of Y/n’s cheap glass of wine.

“Your art is excellent. I’m a big fan.�� The woman looked over her shoulder as she plumbed the top of the bottle with the cork and placed it back into the small fridge below the counter.

“You know my work?” It was not expected. She didn’t think the bartender would know the artists by their faces alone.

“Yes! Of course. I usually get to know who the artists are that have their pieces here. Yours is outstanding.”

She felt her face get warm from the odd feeling she always got when someone loved her work and recognized her. She still hadn’t gotten used to that feeling yet but she enjoyed it nonetheless.

When she took the glass she thanked the lady for the wine, “And, thank you for the kind words too. That means a lot to me.”

She took a deep breath and sipped her wine in the empty space as she attempted to let her bad mood dissolve. She knew it was impossible to let it go completely. Her wound was so fresh. She’d just gotten her heart broken and that would take some time to grapple with. But she knew she could be okay because she’d dealt with and come through the worst kind of tragic loss anyone can imagine. Losing Robert devastated her. For a very long time. She’d only gotten to a place where she felt she was ready to find love again. And her short time with Harry was nothing in comparison to what she’d suffered. So yeah, she’d been through far worse. She’d be okay.

The music that played in the small space was slow and the tune sounded a lot like an old Foo Fighters song. But it was all instrumental and she couldn’t be sure. She pulled out her cell phone and decided to text her sister. Catch up a bit. Feel something sweet and nostalgic to get her mind off of her sorrows.

She smiled when her sister texted back with a picture of the kids.

She looked up and paused to listen closely to the music playing again. Yeah. It was an instrumental version - definitely Foo Fighters. Everlong. That was the song! She snapped her fingers and smiled again as he looked back at the picture of her nieces.

“Excuse me, Mrs. Y/n. This is for you.” The bartender laid an envelope down on the table. It had her name written on it.

This felt very reminiscent of-

She looked around the room and out into the gallery, where people fitted in lovely outfits and amazing hairstyles milled about, in search of the one person that might have had something to do with this.

She looked back down at the envelope and toward the young lady who had already gone back behind the bar, “Who gave this to you?” She was hesitant to open it.

“Ms. Adams. The gallery’s director. She said it was from a very special guest.”

A very special guest.

She wasted no more time in ripping the top of the envelope open knowing already who it was from.

She braced herself for what she might read on the folded paper inside. Her heart walloped in her chest and she felt her throat go dry as she carefully pulled the paper out and unfolded it.

I’m sorry for the way things happened yesterday. I wanted to tell you so much more. I need you in my life, Y/n. Take a drink in the director’s office with me? Please? - H

She swallowed thickly and placed the paper down on the lacquered wood. The words stared up at her. Very reminiscent of that night. Their first night together.

She decided to take a moment. Finish her glass of wine and find her resolve. She’d see him. Because of course, she would. She’d fallen for the guy and perhaps closure would be good. For both of them. She tried not to get her hopes up.

But even with the idea that she wouldn’t get her hopes up, from the very base of her spine, small bursts of hope began spreading over her back, warming her up and causing the edge of her lip to flick upward the tiniest bit.

She had to stop. She couldn’t allow the butterflies and the warmth to cover her chest. This wasn’t an olive branch. This wasn’t hope. But that was what her body was feeling, the way it reacted after reading his words.

Stop.

She read the note again and the right side of her mouth quirked but she stifled the smile that tried breaking out over her features.

“Uh, hi!” She scooted off her stool and waved at the bartender, “Do you know where the director’s office is by chance?” The young woman smiled, “Follow me, Ms. Y/n.”

Y/n followed behind the young woman to a doorway at the far end of the room and into a hallway. Framed prints were hung along the wall and the floor was dark wood while the walls were a light cream. A few doors were passed, the bathrooms, a numbered room, until finally, they reached the director’s office.

The woman knocked before turning the knob to open the door and stood back, “Here you are.” She gestured at the open door.

“Thank you.” Y/n wavered in her movements wondering if this was the right thing. Should she entertain this idea? Of course, she was going to entertain this idea, but part of her wanted to keep her tough exterior and remain firm in her decision.

Slowly pushing the door further open, she stepped into the threshold and was met with a quaint office-sized room. The same dark wood floors sprawled below her feet, but the very first thing her eyes landed on was that of Harry holding a bouquet of flowers and wearing a soft smile.

She closed the door behind her and stepped in a couple of feet. He was in a well-fitted navy suit and he looked tired. But he was handsome.

The thought quickly hit her. How did he get in here? Who let him use the director’s office? But then, as he ran his ringed fingers through his hair and she saw remnants of chipped nail polish she was reminded of who he was. Not just her lover or her ex. But he was Harry. Everyone knew him or knew of him. Of course, he was allowed in the director’s office.

“Hi, Y/n,” Harry spoke reticently as he held out the bouquet to her.

He wasn’t sure she’d come to him or that she’d want to even talk to him. And he thought about making a grand gesture. Take over the audio system and declare his love publicly before everyone as he walked out into the crowd toward her. Make a scene. Make her listen. Have everyone rooting for them. Rooting for him.

But that wasn’t right. That would have been too pushy. Not fair. This night was about her. If he’d gone about it the way he wanted it would have had all eyes on him.

He knew, though, that he needed to be here with her. To tell her how he really felt and what he wanted and then if she still wanted that with him, still wanted to be with him, they could end the night the way it was meant to be ended. Together.

“Hi, Harry,” Y/n spoke softly, keeping her eyes on his eyes as she took the lovely bouquet full of pink peonies and soft cream roses.

Harry gestured toward the brown Midcentury style couch, “Will you sit with me? I won’t take up much of your time if you don’t want. I just wanted to say some things.”

The couch was large enough for just two people. Harry was glad she had to sit so close to him. He wanted to eat her up she looked so pretty and so sweet. And just the fact that she’d come to him to entertain a conversation had him soaring.

Placing the bouquet down on the glass coffee table, Y/n noticed the bottle of wine and two glasses as he pointed, “Would you like a glass?”

Nodding her head, Harry pulled the cork out and poured her a bit of the red wine. She felt like she should say no just for the fact that she’d only just finished a glass of white wine and surely it would make the red wine taste odd. But ultimately she figured she could use another glass of wine.

“Yesterday I was working up the courage to tell you how I want to be with you for good,” Harry said as he leaned his back into the cushion behind him with his own glass of wine, “Wanted to tell you how serious I am about you. But I thought you were planning on breaking up with me so I needed a minute to figure out how I was going to convince you to stay.”

Y/n’s eyes bounced over his features as she cinched her brows inward. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Had he wanted the same thing she did the whole time?

“And I’m so sorry that it seemed to you like I was putting off a serious conversation with you. That’s my fault. I should have stayed there with you in bed and listened to you right off. Even if it meant potentially having you break up with me,” he licked his lips and sighed, “Instead, I did what I normally do and tried and figure out a way to make something work in my favor. So I paused that moment hoping you’d change your mind, or that I could come up with something. Prolonging it for the sake of just holding on to you a little longer.

“It’s because I’m selfish and I like to control the narrative. But that’s never been fair to you. So, I understand if my apology is no good anymore. I just felt like maybe I can tell you what was really happening in my head yesterday. Because that part, you did have wrong.”

Y/n blinked her eyes and nodded, “Well, then… I guess I’m sorry too. Because it sounds like I might have jumped to conclusions. I just didn’t think you’d want something serious. Long term. But there’s more to it than just that you know?”

Harry frowned and shook his head, “What do you mean?”

Y/n could see how timid Harry had been since the moment she walked into the room with him. She felt the need to help assuage him so she turned her body toward his and pulled his hands into hers before speaking, “I mean that I’m getting older and I think it’s time for me to really settle down. For good. I mean…” she breathed out a nervous laugh, “like, babies, marriage… death. All that. That’s what I mean.”

Harry nodded and raised his brows, “Yeah?”

Y/n grinned as Harry’s thumbs ran along the sides of her hands. The corner of his mouth pulled upward. She could see his swagger return in almost an instant. His eye contact was solid and his dimples carved into his cheeks.

“Well, yeah,” she started to feel flustered by his proximity, the way she could see his pupils roaming over her face and watching her mouth, “I’m not saying we need to get married but like,” she swallowed, “I’d like for us to be serious enough to know that we’d be headed that direction if things are good. And I know you’re super famous and that’s why yesterday I just…”

“I want to be with you. I want it all with you.” Harry bowed his head, finally breaking eye contact and his hands tightened around hers, “I thought you were done with me. I thought you were going to break up with me and that I wasn’t going to be worth all the trouble for you. Because I know this is a lot.”

“No. I just thought you wouldn’t want what I wanted and the way you reacted to me telling you I wanted to talk and how you didn’t come to find me after you were done showering… I felt like you were trying to figure out the best way to break it to me- either that or you were trying to avoid me. I just… Thought the worst.”

She couldn’t have described the way her insides were pulsing and expanding and churning. She’d spent the better half of the day reeling over losing him. Over knowing she might not get to look into his eyes in this way again. Might not see the small freckles on his face again and the way he blushed despite being so sure of himself. But here she was sitting with Harry and in under three minutes everything had changed. If she had just listened yesterday. If he had just listened.

“But so did I. That’s why we’re in this mess. I thought you were breaking up with me and so my behavior made you think the worst.”

Y/n smiled and allowed herself to indulge in his eyes and in the grin he was holding back and the way his fingers felt on hers… Was she just dreaming? Was she just about to wake up and realize it had all been a dream?

“Is it okay if I… ?” He pulled at her gently and slowly wrapped his arms around her and she smelled his familiar cologne. She loved how this felt. Hugging him. Feeling his solid body against hers. She eased into his hold and wrapped her own arms around him.

Harry whispered into her ear, “I should have told you everything yesterday. Let you talk and then we wouldn’t have gotten in this mess. It’s me and you, Y/n. Okay? Me and you. That’s what I want.”

Tears of relief and elated joy broke from her waterline and Harry pulled her in tighter, kissing her temple, “I thought you were done with me. I thought you wanted to break up with me,” the anguish in his voice was not missed. He’d been hurting too.

Harry brushed his palm up and down on her back slowly and pressed his lips to the top of her head, “God I was so worried this was it for us. Fuck. I’m not letting you leave me again like you did. I can’t be away from you like that, Y/n.”

Pulling her head back to look up at him she did see the glisten in his eyes from the start of tears. She knew hers matched. It all felt like a dream. But just in case it was real she needed to speak the words. Sliding her hands upward and cupping his face she was nearly trembling from relief and excitement, “I love you, Harry.”

Harry closed his eyes and pressed his forehead into hers, clutching her lovely dress tightly, “God, I love you, Y/n.”

. . .

Stepping into the gallery with all the other people in the room and having Harry by her side felt surreal. Everyone was watching them. She was okay to share this night with him. There was no way around it that people wouldn’t be interested in her because of her boyfriend. She figured that would be something she’d just have to get used to.

Harry squeezed her hand tight and she looked up at him. He looked proud. So important with a big, pleased smile on his lips as he looked down at her.

“You realize you’re coming back home with me after this. Right? And I’m never letting you leave me again.”

Harry had grown a lot as an individual. He still had moments where he could be pushy and use his charm to get the things he wanted, but he figured some things just couldn’t be totally trained out of him. He allowed Y/n to make her own choices. He gave her space when she needed but she came back to him in the end. He wanted her to be his and everything they’d done that had gotten them to where they were currently had worked out. So Harry had no regrets about coming to her on this night.

“Of course, I’m coming home with you. I’d be offended if you assumed otherwise,” she smirked happily. “And I wouldn’t dream of leaving you again.”

Harry couldn’t wait to get her home and make love to her. Seal it all together in finality. He knew that tonight was just the beginning for them.

And as if they could both read one another’s minds they smiled and paused together in time. Everything had finally come together for them. At last.

A/N: This is the last part of this series! Would love your feedback!

Feedback/Thoughts | Support Me! | Main Masterlist

Tags: @daphnesutton @indierockgirrl @stylesfever @harrys-jumper @ameerakane20 @harryssky1 @tobesolovelysstuff @jerseygirlinca @harrys-flower @onlyangellucifer @cherryluvhobi @michellekstyles @golden-hoax @a-strange-familiar @yousunshineyoutempter @tenaciousperfectionunknown @swiftmendeshoran @luvonstyles @tiaamberxx @lukesaprince @dirtytissuebox @closureesny @lhharrylilpumpkin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysmimi @harrys-foxy @itsgigikay @angelbabyyy99 @lllukulele @lanadelharry @novasblogofstuff @gills-lounge @damnasstyles @malwtilda @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @0oolookitsme @babybunharry @anothermannharry @love-letters-to-uranus @itjustkindahappenedreally @kelly-fushiguro345

417 notes · View notes

radcowboylad · 6 months

Text

I've drawn a lot of designs like this recently since I got to saw them at the Brisbane concert! I might post the rest here later too.

Made on Photoshop, took about half a day coming up with a concept on paper and then making it digitally. I originally wasn't going to have the stitches, I only added them when I started inking but I think it made it look 10x better.

I tried to make each quarter show their most iconic part of face paint, while still making sense to be done in some type of order. Luckily I was able to capture that with everyone; the messiness of Papa I's makeup, then the more modern design of Papa III's eye and nose, Copia's black lips, cheek design, big ass chin, and Papa III's edgy mouth lines and cheek design. Papa III's hat was a fuckin pain to detail.

I was also going to make each quarter's smoke be the colours of their respective albums but I just could not make it look good or harmonize so I stuck with just Opus Eponymous since it has a better striking palette for something with limited colours.

Top left is Papa I,

Bottom left is Papa II,

Top right is Papa III,

Bottom right is Papa IV.

#artists on tumblr #digital art #fanart #ghost band #ghost bc #papa emeritus iv #papa emeritus iii #papa emeritus ii #papa emeritus i #ghost band fanart

242 notes · View notes

cyber-night · 4 months

Text

Making art for Dottore (I forgot to add blood because I got distracted by the fridge)

Content Warnings: a smidgen of gore, dottore, and I think that might be it...

Dottore was working on a test subject. This one was a previous fatuus who had the audacity to comment on your relationship with Dottore. He was alive, and dottore was humming to himself as he worked on replacing the man's bones with metal. You watched him quietly from a designated safe area. It had been put in so you could watch him and the clones work without getting potentially injured. It had happened once before, and Prime dottore had almost killed that clone. It took much convincing on your part and a full-blown panick attack on the clones part to convince him not to kill the sweet young clone.

At present, you were sketching your beloved so you could paint him later. He was working away diligently, unaware that you were drawing him as he was far too engrossed in his work. That was until his "patient" flat lined that was a pity. Dottore had looked like he was having such fun with him. He sighs and rolls his eyes, leaving the mess to the clones as he removes his gloves and lab coat and then walks over to you.

He stops and tilts his head as he sees you close your sketch book. "What are you drawing, my dear?" You look up at him and smile softly. "Pretty things." Which earns you a tilt of his head as he glances around the lab before he looks back at you. "And what pray tell would you find 'pretty' in my lab?" He asks curiously. "Why you, of course." You tease him with a soft smile. His eyes light up, and you can see his ears turn red, indicating that he's blushing behind his mask. "Can I see?" After a moment of consideration, you shake your head no. "Later, when it's finished. It needs to be inked and painted." Dottore nods. He respects only wanting to show a finished piece. That doesn't mean he's going to be patient about it.

That piece ended up taking a few days, which led to him pestering you to see if it was done. Once it was true to your word, you let Dottore look at it. He was sitting at his desk a mess of lab reports around him. He smiles his sharp teeth on display as he looks over it. "This is going on the lab fridge!" He declares excitedly. You blink as you process his words. "It's what?" You ask as you look over at him. "The fridge!! It's going on the fridge." He pauses, then looks back at you. "That's what people do with art, right?" He asks worriedly, making you chuckle before speaking. "I mean... I guess usually it's kids' art, but yeah, it can go on the lab fridge." He smiles and places a magnet on it anchoring it to the fridge.

#dottore #genshin dottore #genshin impact dottore #dottore x reader #il dottore #genshin il dottore #genshin impact il dottore #dottore fluff #il dottore x reader #Cyber-Write

158 notes · View notes

pervysenpaix · 2 years

Text

Friends ... Have you ever thought about TechSupport!Kirishima, that's too fucking hot to be a computer nerd? Like you were completely taken aback when you saw his massive cock muscles. And like-wouldn't it be even crazier if y/n was kinda idk .... pervy 🥴

Masterlist

18+NSFW|MDNI tw!AgedUp, dubcon?, pervyfem!reader, use of "spunk"😍, pussy drunk Kirishima, breeding, overstimulation, spitting, Kiri is a good boy

Imagine spending hours researching and compiling data for a report that’s due in the morning and just when you’re about to submit it into the database, the screen goes blank. You’ve literally been staring at a screen for hours. Crunching numbers and gathering evidence just for all your hard work to disappear.

What do you even feel in this moment? Nausea? Dread? Disappointment?

Anger.

Pure unadulterated anger that has you screaming at your monitor and throwing your stapler against the wall—which leaves at not-so-subtle hole that would definitely be coming out of your paycheck.

If I even still have a job in the morning.

Irritation bubbles underneath your skin in a way that has you fidgeting in your seat. Manicured fingers tap against the mahogany wood of your desk and the foot of your Louboutin pump digs into the carpet. Being the youngest executive at such an elite firm led to an overwhelming amount of pressure. Not to mention being the only woman on the board—that presented difficulties in itself. It’s like your male peers were just waiting for you to fuck up. Just prove yourself as the incompetent bimbo that’s no more than in office eye candy. Fuck—they were gonna have a field day with this.

You stared at the blank screen in utter defeat, thinking of how you’ll walk out of the boardroom carrying a box filled with office supplies and snacks in a dignified manner. Then, it hit you—a potential solution to your problem. The computer nerds in the IT department!

You nearly broke a nail lunging for your cellphone and placing the emergency order. The disinterested voice claiming to send someone “soon” had you a bit worried, but to your surprise there was a knock on your door five minutes later.

“Come in!” You chirped hopefully, praying that this scrawny little—

Wait a minute.

Is there a football tryout or something that you didn’t know about ?

“Hi there, I’m Kirishima. Nice to meet you. I hear you’re having some trouble with your laptop?”

Your jaw hit the floor when the 6’6 giant crouched over the threshold and into your office because there’s no way that this big brute of a man was some tech savant.

Well—brute might not be the right word. This guy had the sunniest disposition. Bright red hair pulled into a low ponytail. Radiant ruby eyes with flecks of blue that shimmered against the fluorescent lights. A gentle voice that was deep yet calming. And his smile–sharp pointy teeth that were perfectly aligned and sparkling white, framed by the plushest set of pink lips that you’ve ever seen. So, brute might not be the best word to describe this guy. At least not from the neck up. But from the neck down…

Well, that was a different story.

The man was MASSIVE. Everything about him was big. And I do mean everything. That thin light blue polo and tight khaki slacks held little to the imagination. The fabric was stretched so tight over the expanse of muscle it looked as if it was painted on. To make matters worse, you could make out the faintest lines of black ink peaking underneath his sleeve and slightly above his collar hinting at some ornate chest plate that made him impossibly more desirable.

“You work in IT?” Kirishima winced at the accusatory tone and scratched the back of his head. “Heh-yeah. I know I’m a little young. I just started today but I promise I can get the job done!” He chuckled nervously, completely oblivious to the fact that you weren’t confused by his age. Hell—he looked to be about the same age of you and you’d never discriminate on someone based on their age. Or anything at all for that matter. It just that—he’s so hot.

Oh fuck, well now I’m no better than the assholes I work with.

“No. No. I was just a little taken aback is all.” You threw your hands up and smiled, which made him visibly relax, “I’m sure you’ll do fine. I’m kind of counting on it”. Kirishima nodded with a bright smile plastered on his face and headed towards your workstation.

The redhead had the issue resolved in a matter of minutes. Saving you from corporate humiliation and help wanted ads. You were so happy you could kiss him—which is exactly what you said and turned him into a flustered mess. “I- Me- No- that’s just my job!” His voice cracked and he flushed a deeper shade of red that crawled up his neck and covered his cheeks and ears. He was so embarrassed. Is blushing considered manly? But what man in their right mind wouldn’t get nervous around such a gorgeous woman.

Everything about you was perfect. First and foremost, you were this powerful exec who had to be some sort of genius because there’s no way that you were older than him. Then all the other stuff. Beautiful face. Angelic voice. Sweet laugh. Kind smile. A plush body that looked so soft—

“Kirishima?” your bubbly voice yanked him from his brief, and slightly inappropriate, departure from reality. It’s not okay for him to think of his higher ups like that. No matter how sweet your perfume smells or how tiny you are compared to him. He just got this job and there’s no way he could fuck it up by being unprofessional. So, he cleared his throat and said his goodbyes. Hoping to keep his interactions with you to a minimum, lest he be tempted…

But you had other plans.

You see it’s hard being a successful businesswoman and finding a guy that checks all your boxes. The guys you worked with were all arrogant assholes who made jokes about you being their housewife. But Kirishima was so different! He revered you and always treated you with the upmost respect. A perfect gentleman that never stepped out of line no matter how hard you pushed him.

All those urgent calls that you sent in requesting him specifically because “he was such a good worker”. When actually all you wanted was to watch his red brows furrow when he scratched his head trying to figure out how you managed to get 17 different malware prompts that each lead to some dead end. Little did he know, you asked your best friend Mina to send some codes your way that would give you a chance to ogle the redhead cutie. Pushing up against him while you peered over his shoulder and pretended to be interested in how he was fixing something you’d purposely broken.

It was fun too.

He always got so nervous and flustered. He’d avert his eyes and not so discreetly adjust himself when your soft breasts pushed against his skin. Sometimes he’d audibly gulp when you’d run your French tipped nails down his toned arm. His attraction was obvious, but he never made any moves. So, one day you decided to take matters into your own hands.

“Wow—I’ve never seen anything like this. Your motherboard is completely fried. We might need to get you a whole new set up”. A theatrical gasp sounded from your chest. “Oh no, That’s awful!” You exclaimed, as if you didn’t disassemble the whole thing and drench it in iced coffee before you called him over. “Yeah—he shook his head, “but it’s not too big of a deal. I’ll just run over to the tech department grab everything”. You hummed, biting your lip, and chewing on the tip of a pen in a way that shouldn’t have made his pants tight. God—he hoped you didn’t notice, but of course you did.

“Hey, Kirishima… Why don’t I come with you? I can help you carry everything”. His eyes widened comically, completely taken aback at the thought of your tiny self lifting more than a finger. “Oh no! It’s fine. I wouldn’t want you to get hurt”. You pouted, fingers twirling around a tendril of hair and took a step closer to him, so that the two of you were standing chest to chest. “Well at least let me keep you company”.

The wet squelching of your sopping cunt reverberated off the walls lewdly paired by your sultry moans and Kirishima’s muffled grunts. Saliva spilled between your fingers from where your hand was pressed against his mouth that hung open in ecstasy. Big hands found purchase on the globes of your ass, not so much guiding—more like holding on for dear life while rode his dick. Bodies pressed together like the pieces of a puzzle in the cramped space of the equipment room.

Vermillion stands fell freely against his tanned skin and clung to the sweat beading against his flesh. Slowly—you whined your waist, drawing circles against the meaty cock that was bruising your cervix. A shudder ran down the redhead’s spine and his hips spasmed up into your heat, making your core clench around him. Slick saturated his thighs, pooling in the tufts of curly black pubes nestled above his engorged balls.

Leaning back slightly—you rolled your hips at a new angle that pushed and pulled Kirishima’s dick simultaneously. He whimpered loudly against your hand. Too pussy drunk to care about getting caught fucking his superior in the middle of the day. “Shh-“ you cooed, tightening the hand against his mouth. “You have to be quiet, baby. You can be a good boy for me, yeah?”. He nodded immediately, fighting the intense urge to scream your name because he was so willing to prove his obedience. Be your good boy. You chuckled, cunt spasming at the desperation in his red eyes. You’d never felt so desired. The way Kirishima gazed upon your face made you feel like some masterfully crafted work of art. It was like you were the only girl in the world. The only thing that mattered to him was your beautiful face and angelic cunt, milking his balls dry and bouncing on his dick to the point of overstimulation.

Tears fell from his eyes and his heart beat in time with each wet slap of your cunt. Even though your pussy was so filled with spunk that it dribbled down your legs—you never stopped bouncing. Cupping his balls with your free hand to squeeze him dry. You moved your hand just in time to hear his pornographic moan as his hips stuttered, shooting blanks into your gushy center.

He looked so pretty. Eyes rolled to the back of his head and mouth hung open with drool on the sides. Never one to miss out on a great opportunity—you leaned forward and slowly dribbled saliva down his throat, which he swallowed hungrily. It was enough to send you tumbling over the edge. Moaning and whispering words of praise while Kirishima whined and whimpered your name.

You clung to one another for what felt like hours before the red head broke the silence by clearing his throat.

“So umm—would you like to maybe go on a date?”

Taglist| @xogabbiexo, @yo-nn, @plussizeficchick, @bookwormsenpai,@tenyaiidasslut, @dabilovesme, @erenyeagerswhore, @tsukihime25, @nasty-quillz, @namjoonswifeyy, @7inaa, @m00nchildthings, @blkchxrryblyss, @38riku

If you don't want to be tagged, dm me and i'll remove you.

#eijiro kirishima #kirishima x reader #kirishima thirst #mha kirishima #kirishima x black reader #eijirou smut #kirishima smut #kirishima x chubby reader #mha x black reader #mha smut #mha x chubby reader

5K notes · View notes

splatsvilles-fashionista · 5 months

Text

Splatoon 3 Version 6.0 Patch Notes Breakdown

Been a little bit since I did one of these, but Nintendo released the Chill Season 2023 patch notes about three hour ago, and while in terms of balance changes this is one of the smallest patches ever, it's got a ton of quality-of-life changes, so let's dig in, shall we?

So let's start from the top. In terms of new content, this patch includes a new catalog, two new stages (Robo ROM-en and Bluefin Depot), two new Specials (Splattercolor Screen and Triple Splashdown), nine new weapons, two new multiplayer songs, the new King Salmonid Megalodontia, and eleven new Tableturf cards.

Additionally, you'll note that they're including a line about giving you one Sheldon License at the end of each season. This is actually really relevant to a change coming down in line, so tuck that in the back of your mind for later.

The balance changes are all buffs, but they're relatively minor, and only six Main weapons and one Special are seeing any changes this time around.

Starting off, .96 Gal is having its ink efficiency buffed by 8%. It currently gets 40 shots on a full ink tank, so I wager this increases that number by about 5-10, but it's 5 AM my time at time of writing and I am bad at math, so I don't know for sure.

Ranged Blaster's explosions get a 15% paint buff. Note that this applies only to the final explosion and not the trail, so it's not a straight 15% paint buff.

Dread Wringer gets a 10% ink efficiency buff, and since it currently has ten sloshes on a full tank, that increases that number to eleven.

And finally, for Main Weapon changes the Heavy Edit Splatling now paints more. Unlike the Ranged Blaster's paint buff this is a lot harder to gauge, but Heavy Edit's paint can be kind of spotty and inefficient, so this is undoubtedly a good thing for it.

After that, we've got only two points-for-Special changes.

Jet Squelcher and L-3 Nozzlenose both get some points shaved off their Specials, taking their Ink Vac and Crab Tank to 180p and 190p respectively. On one hand, I am biased and hate the Jet Squelcher, and I think this buff was completely unwarranted and unnecessary, but on the other hand I love the L-3 and want only good things in life for it, so they balance each other out, in my book.

And, for the final balance change of the entire patch, we've got a Reefslider buff, as it now makes you invulnerable during its startup 13 frames faster. The thing about this change is that like, it's a buff, and that is good, but the problem Reefslider has is not getting the Special off, it's that you very rarely survive the aftermath of using it, and this does nothing to solve that. With Triple Splashdown on the horizon I think things might be rough for this Special in the future.

And that's all of the balance changes! There being so few of them indicate two things to me: That Nintendo is overall happy with the the state of the game, and that they are wary of touching anything unless they have to. And one hand I get it, after all, competitive players are currently saying that there really isn't a meta at the moment, just picking weapons you're good at and playing well, and that's probably not an environment you want to shake up too much. But on the other hand, there are a lot of things like Line Marker, Undercover Brella, and Reefslider to name a few, that could really do with some sprucing up to help them keep up with the just the middle of the pack. I think raising the bottom bar a bit higher would be to everyone's benefit.

But we've got two Specials being added, so I suppose now's not the time to rock the boat too much. We'll see how things have shaken out come the mid-season patch in January.

But the balance changes are a very small part of these patch notes, and nowhere near the most interesting, so let's keep moving on.

Anarchy Series and X Battles are receiving a whole slew of changes, the most prominent of which are some new badge rewards for win streaks and attaining high X Rankings. Additionally, matchmaking in X Battles is being changed to more strictly separate people with high and low X Ranks, as well as allowing more team compositions. To cut a long story short, weapons have a set of internal values that the game uses during matchmaking to try and balance the team compositions. Matchmaking in high-power X Rank infamously takes a very long time, so I have to imagine that this change aims to speed things up by making the matchmaking more lenient on that front.

Salmon Run, in addition to the new King Salmonid, is getting some significant changes, starting with some changes to the Specials:

Kraken Royale and Triple Splashdown are being added to the pool of available Specials. Additionally, Mr. Grizz has finally agreed to always provide at least two workers on every team with a long-range Special to handle all the pesky Stingers and Flyfish. Be sure to thank your local union representative the next chance you get.

This change is particularly spicy. Your Salmon Run stage badges will now boost your starting difficulty on their respective stages, adding more incentive to play beyond the two superbonuses, as well as making the grind for future badges easier. This certainly gives me more motivation to go for those VP 400+ badges.

You'll now be able to tell what King Salmonid is present during each Shift, and the Salmometer will change to match it, as well. Can you believe they didn't change that when they added Horrorboros?

Also I am curious what this means for those Shifts where the King Salmonid was random. Will the Salmometer become a question mark? Are they not gonna do those anymore? We'll have to wait and see.

But this next change, is a big one, and it's for, what else, Big Run:

Big Run trophy requirements will now be set in advance, and no longer scale off top 50%, 20% and 5% player results.

I am in two minds about this change. On one hand, I always thought that people complaining about overfishers in Big Run were kind of petulant and entitled, especially when the rewards were as minor as locker decorations and badges. Maybe that's mean-spirited of me, but there was never a way for me to read it as anything but people demanding to be given the same reward as the people working the hardest without putting in the effort themselves.

But on the other hand, the 5% cutoff has been steadily rising as overall Big Run participation decreased, which is just a natural result of time passing and casual players falling off the game, nothing weird there, but this means that the top becomes more stacked, further disincentivizing casual players as getting even the bronze trophies becomes harder and harder for them. Giving the players much clearer and more achievable goals will likely serve to pull a lot of people back into Big Runs, and that is undoubtedly a good thing.

And hey, I said the rewards weren't worth getting upset over, and by that same metric, I don't think it's worth getting upset over more people getting them, either. All the better, if it makes more folks happy. And as for the people who do want to grind their hearts out, well:

There's still some recognition for that, too.

So that's the gist of the Salmon Run changes, so let's finish up with some miscellaneous changes.

Remember how I told you to keep that bonus Sheldon's License in mind for later?

Players who own every currently available weapon will now be able to trade extra licenses in for Shell-Out Tokens. In other words, that extra license serves as a failsafe so you don't lock yourself out of buying future weapons by spending all your licenses on gacha rolls.

The Splatfest Battle Pro queue is receiving the same matchmaking changes as X, presumably for much the same reasons.

And finally, the most important change of all:

WANDERCRUST IS BACK!!! YEAH BABY!!!! WOO!!!

#splatoon 3 #chill season 2023 #salmon run #salmon run next wave

141 notes · View notes

dairyminki · 9 months

Text

Inked By Fate - ONE

↬ pairing/s: park seonghwa x fem!reader, choi san x fem!reader ↬ genre: soulmate!au, racers!ateez, rivalry, angst, romance, fluff, pining ↬warning/s: none (lmk if i missed anything) ↬wc: 1k+

*reblogs and feedbacks are much appreciated!

・・・・・★

You hissed as you felt the pricking sensation on your back growing much more intense by the second. Your hands gripped at the counter, knuckles almost turning white, as you tried to steady yourself up whilst trying to not give in to the pain.

Here, it goes again.

A minute or two later, the door to the shop opens, revealing another female whose face turned panicky upon seeing your state behind the counter.

"Oh my god, Y/N!" The newly arrived female runs to you and then quickly guides you to one of the chairs. She eases you through the pain by cracking some jokes and telling you everything about her day. By the time the pain subsided, you were left staring at the pastel-painted ceiling, spaced out on the chair with a sore back.

"Y/N..."

A voice snaps you out of your mini daze.

"I-I think it's the biggest one yet, Jia." You told your best friend whose eyes widened in response.

"That explains why you looked more pained than ever." Jia says, pouting. "I'm sorry you always have to go through this. If only I can do something-"

You immediately put a hand up, indicating that you don't want to hear Jia continuing her words.

Because in the first place, it's not and will never be your best friend's fault. The cruelty of fate and destiny - that's what to blame.

"Ji, can you check it for me please?" You ask her instead, gesturing your back, with your head. Without any other word, Jia rushes behind you and rolls up your baby blue shirt.

"Oh my- Y/N, it's very pretty!" Jia exclaims, prompting you to roll your eyes.

"Jia, everything for you is pretty," you counter.

"No- I mean, I'm not kidding this time. This one's different!" Jia insists, and when you turn to look at her, you could see how your best friend's eyes sparkled in delight.

Seeing the doubt in your face, Jia offers, already extending her hand to you, "Do you want me to take a picture of it?" she asks.

"Yes, please."

・・・・・★

As soon as you got inside your apartment, you immediately went inside your room and made your way to your bed. Hugging a pillow, you laid down on your side as your mind drifted off to the familiar dark abyss where your endless thoughts resided.

Just how much pain will you still have to go through before you finally meet them?

For all you could know, maybe the chances of meeting them might not even be that high...so does that mean you'll have to suffer endlessly through these pains?

Sometimes, you question why fate and destiny chose to play their cards this way...

Why do they have to make it so hard for everyone, just for the sake of finding each other's soulmates? Your soulmate.

Yes, all the pain you've been feeling is all caused by your one and only soulmate. Your, supposed to be, 'other half' who, for some reason, you still can't find.

As a child, your parents always told you and your brother about the concept of soulmates, and of fate and destiny. Because of that, you've learned to love and appreciate the concept so much that everytime you see the inked initial on your wrist, you can't help but smile. Looking at it always manages to make your day.

That is, until you turned 18 - still no signs of your so-called soulmate. Due to that unfortunate reason, you had to experience another soulmate mark.

You remembered giggling in joy once upon a time as you let your imagination run wild. You imagined that maybe you'll have the infamous different eye color mark, or maybe the changing hair color one - but you certainly didn't expect this - for getting another tattoo related mark.

It started when you were in the middle of your Physics midterm exam, when you suddenly felt pain surging through your lower leg. The pain was bearable, but still it was pain.

When you went inside the bathroom, that's when you took notice of the black ink that was present in your leg. The tattoo was in the form of a fiery crown. And at first you were confused, thinking that your eyes were probably deceiving you. However, after spending nearly an hour staring at the same spot on your leg and searching on the web for confirmation, you eventually found out that it indeed is, your new soulmate mark.

After that, the tattoos just kept coming, and before you even knew it, your upper arm towards your back was littered with black ink.

And then today happened...

The biggest tattoo your soulmate has ever done - and they really had to place it on their back?

You wanted to curse them, but you thought that what if your soulmate didn't know? What if your soulmate didn't know that this is the case for your new soulmate mark? That for each tattoo they decide to get on their skin, the very same one starts to blossom on yours as well? Can you blame them?

"What a day..." You mutter under your breath, and then you suddenly realized that you still haven't seen the new design on your own back. And so, you quickly fished your phone out from your pocket.

"Oh my god...Jia wasn't joking." It is pretty. Maybe, the prettiest you've ever seen.

The tattoo was an infinity symbol, but instead of the plain one, it was made of a rose, with its stem bended into a loop with all the thorns present. And then somewhere along the lines were the words, fate and destiny.

You don't know why, but you felt warm. You felt warm because it's as if your soulmate was thinking the same as you.

That no matter how beautiful the concept of having soulmates is, the process of finding them says otherwise. But in the end, you know it'll be worth it. Just like a rose, no matter how beautiful it is, it still has prickly thorns that might pierce your skin. But in the end, it'll still be a beautiful flower to those who can see.

So that's why even though this game of hide and seek might be tiring and somewhat painful, you'll still move forward. Hoping that each step you take will finally lead you to your soulmate.

"What a beautiful pain..." You sighed as your gaze went to the letter that was inked on your right wrist.

・・・・・★

↬a/n: hello hello hello~ this one's finally been freed from my drafts dungeon and i'm so happy! the first chapter is just an introduction for y'all to get a glimpse of the character and their life. see ya on the next chapter where things will begin to unfold ♡

↬ IBF MASTERLIST ↬ ATEEZ MASTERLIST

#seonghwa x reader #san x reader #ateez x reader #seonghwa imagines #san imagines #ateez fics #kim hongjoong #park seonghwa #jeong yunho #kang yeosang #choi san #song mingi #jung wooyoung #choi jongho #inkedbyfate #dairyminkiwrites #dairyminki_atzsan #dairyminki_atzsh

308 notes · View notes

ddarker-dreams · 1 year

Text

Loaded Question.

Yan Arlecchino x Reader. Commissioned piece.

Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, power imbalance, brief alcohol mention. Word count: 2k.

The Knave has grown past the point where she must investigate matters herself.

If a person’s life is divided into acts, then she’d consider the final word of that era written. The ink has dried, the page long turned. Through excruciating effort, she climbed the ranks, claiming the revered title ‘Harbinger’. In this frosty wasteland, there is no higher honor, aside from holding the throne the Tsaritsa occupies.

Menial endeavors are below Arlecchino. Not due to a lack of interest on her part, but to prove she must never lower herself to such a degree again. Her ambitions are great, her drive greater. She won’t stop at reaching for the stars.

She plans to have the entire night sky twinkle and dance inside her palms.

So why do you, a lowly creature of the ground, interest her so?

It’s an itch that’s been bothering her for some time. She’d like to say there is some grand, overarching reason to explain away her curiosity, but she’d only be lying to herself. She’s read your file frequently enough to have memorized the document in its entirety. There was nothing of note on the first read, the fourth, or the thirtieth. Still, she searched, trying to find some justification for the intrigue you sparked.

Her efforts conducted from afar have been ineffective. This is why today, she’s trying a more hands-on approach.

You stand behind her, your Fatui mask in place, uniform dusted with remnants of snow. She isn’t facing you directly. She’s opted to gaze out the windows of her office, her back turned to you. By not facing her scrutiny directly, she hopes your body language will be more open. Reveal little nuances you’d otherwise try to conceal. She can still make out your movements by your reflection in the glass.

“It’s been a busy season, hasn’t it?” The cadence of her voice is smooth. It isn’t time to put you on edge.

That’ll come later.

“Ah, yes, there’s been no shortage of work to do, my lady,” you reply, a little eager, but not inexcusably so. You have no idea what her intentions are, after all. “It’s good, though. I prefer that over sitting around and twiddling my thumbs.”

You are nervous — hence the rambling — yet she doesn’t find herself miffed by it. There’s a touch of something in your tone that warms her, like a steaming cup of hot chocolate enjoyed by the hearth. Sweet, comforting.

She could never stop at one sip.

“[First].”

“Y-Yes, my lady?”

Arlecchino pivots on her heel. You straighten your posture, your spine going stiff as a board. She clasps her hand behind her back and looks at you through thick eyelashes.

“Do you have any idea why I called you here?”

You shift your weight from foot to foot. Poor thing, she muses. Your trepidation is tangible, thicker than the blizzards that paint Snezhnaya in silvery white. Some may call her cruel for playing with you like this, but they’d be wrong. This is her kindness. Allowing you time to think, to mull over what words you should choke out next. Her patience for you surpasses what she gives her fellow Harbingers.

Your shoulders droop. You must not think your response will satisfy her.

“I… can’t say I do. I’m sorry.”

Arlecchino sighs, shaking her head while she does so. Your guess was right — your response was unsatisfactory, though it’s no fault of your own. She’s holding all the cards. You don’t even know you’ve been dealt a hand.

“So am I,” is her unexpected reply. “Up until a few minutes ago, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to kill you or not.”

You go stiff enough at the admission that it might as well be rigor mortis.

She advances on you. Slow, steady steps, her heels echoing against the stone floor. Gloved hands raise to trace the outline of your mask. It’s then tossed haphazardly into some corner of the room. She smiles at the unobstructed view of your face. Your widening eyes, inward pinching of your eyebrows. She can feel your shallow breaths against her cheek.

“You aren’t a threat,” she isn’t sure if she’s saying this for your sake or hers. “You aren’t scheming, waiting for your moment to strike. I know what that looks like. The little tells that come with it. No… you’re just you. Unassuming, genuine you.”

Arlecchino drops her voice to a husky whisper. “Are you frightened, sweet thing? Do I scare you?”

She finds the trembling of your lower lip mesmerizing.

“I don’t want to be scared,” comes your admission. She raises an eyebrow. “I want to understand.”

This earns you a chuckle. It isn’t derisive, you just stir up pleasant sentiments in her that she didn’t know existed. She cradles your face in her hands. Through the fabric of her gloves, she feels the heat your skin radiates. Lovely, she thinks. You’re oh so lovely. She regrets not doing this sooner. There is no substitute for having you in person, at her mercy, which you’re unaware you have in spades.

With some reluctance, she parts from you. Her fingertips graze your cheeks while she pulls back. She returns to her position behind her desk, her back turned to you once more. Whatever barrier she’d previously torn down between the two of you rises again. It won’t be there much longer, but she still has work to do.

You’ll be a treat to enjoy later.

“You may leave.”

At her order, you rush to gather the mask that was thrown aside. It’s slightly askew when you set it into place. She assumes you’ll fix it when you’re free from the oppressive atmosphere of her office. You waste no time shuffling toward the doors. You give her one final glance over your shoulder, then the wood creaks open, your footsteps retreating down the hallway.

Arlecchino releases a shaky breath. How long has it been since she’s struggled to maintain her composure like that? She places a hand over her pounding heart, savoring the erratic rhythm. You cause the fleshy organ to sing.

What a delight it is. What a delight you are.

There is no moon out tonight.

The wind doesn’t howl, tree branches don’t rustle. All is eerily silent.

Your dorm room is a small, pitiful thing. You have a twin-sized bed against the flaking wall, an old desk, and a closet too small for her to stand in. Your personal belongings are next to nonexistent. A few trinkets, some books, and a candle whose wick is charred from frequent usage.

Arlecchino pinches your thin bed sheets, pulling them up for closer inspection. How is this meant to keep the biting cold away? How many nights have you spent awake, shivering from the eternal winter this land is cursed with? It’s unforgivable.

The groan of floorboards gives you away.

“My lady?” You squeak. Water droplets cascade from your hair, you must’ve just gotten out of the shower. She frowns, she’ll need it to dry before you’re taken outside. It wouldn’t do for you to be sick while adjusting to a new home.

“You said you wanted to understand,” Arlecchino motions to the box on your bed which contains all your personal effects. You rub your eyes, as if thinking she’s an apparition. She can’t blame you for believing that. “Well, here is your opportunity. You’ll be coming with me. I assume you have no complaints, correct?”

The abrupt sharpness in her voice gives you pause.

“I—” you shiver beneath the weight of her stare. “I… have no complaints.”

“Good. I wouldn’t have listened to them, anyway.”

Arlecchino drops the box into your arms. You hold it close to your chest, shrinking into yourself. She appreciates how quick you are on the uptake. The thought of exerting physical force on you was unappealing, it’s no way to start off a relationship. You’ve done well to keep your emotions in check. No crying, whimpering, or begging.

“I’ve decided to open my home to you. It isn’t a long journey from here. Whatever you need, I’ll provide, within reason. I’m sure you know better than to take advantage of my kindness.”

You nod, wholly incapable of forming words.

She gives a closed-mouth smile. “Excellent. For being so agreeable, I’ll let you ask me a question. Just one, however. Choose wisely.”

The cogs turning in your head are apparent. She doesn’t rush you, seeing as this is a reward for good behavior. It’s important you learn this early on. The lesson will serve you well.

Your lips part, a few words tumbling out that she struggles to hear.

“Hm? Speak up, [First].”

“Do I… need to report to work in the morning?” You finally croak out. The Knave blinks. A moment passes. Her hand rises to cover her mouth, muffling the sounds of her laughter. She feels light, euphoric, any slivers of doubt that you wouldn’t entertain her melting away. It’s foolish she entertained the notion to begin with.

She can’t remember the last time she laughed like this. Not serving some hidden agenda, just an authentic expression of joy.

With some difficulty, she gathers herself. “No, sweet thing. Accept my care and you’ll never need to lift a finger again.”

That night, when she sits by her fireplace, she has a servant bring in another chair.

The flame dances to some long-forgotten melody. It casts a warm glow upon your face, hypnotizing you with its gyrations. Arlecchino rests her head upon her fist. To think this study was a lonely place a few hours ago. The difference your presence brings can already be felt in the room, sinking into the little details.

Your coat hanging by hers on the rack. Your former Fatui mask resting atop the mantle. The chessboard between your chairs.

In a few more moves, she’ll have you in checkmate.

She’s broken from her reverie by the sound of you yawning. You try to cover the display, a futile endeavor, considering how sharp her senses are.

“It’s been a long day,” she muses, sipping the red wine from her glass. “You should rest.”

The fire crackles, a piece of wood falling into a pile of ash. Glowing embers spark in its wake.

“Ah, well, I’m afraid I don’t know where my room is.”

“Our room,” she corrects, a hint of fondness bleeding through. You finally look at her, your interest in the flame lost. “And it’s just down the hall. A maid can help guide you if you get lost, the servants of this estate are at your disposal.”

You mull over this revelation. She can’t fault you for your caution, especially since you’re exhausted. Still, she hopes you can piece together that she would’ve killed you by now if that was to be your fate. She’s going to lengths to ensure your comfort. Your gratitude might not be necessary today, but she’ll expect it soon enough.

“Then… where will you sleep, my lady?”

“In our bed.”

Your lips form an ‘o’ that she finds terribly endearing. The urge to tease your blossoms, its roots taking hold.

“Well? What are you waiting for?” Arlecchino leans forward, steepling her fingers. “A goodnight kiss, perhaps?”

You stand up immediately, your face betraying your embarrassment. “I could never hope to expect that from my lady.”

“Hm. A pity, that is.”

She lets you turn in not long after that. As enjoyable as toying around with you is, she doesn’t want you sleep-deprived. You need to be at your best for the future to come. If you were to ever let your dissent slip through the cracks, it’d awaken a beast inside her that’s better off remaining in hibernation.

For you and her both.

When the flame starts dying off, she prods at it with a fireplace poker. Nothing can start or end without her express approval.

Not even the elements.

The Knave reclines in her chair, exhaustion’s tendrils wrapping snug around her.

This ‘investigation’ is turning out to be her favorite yet.

#arlecchino x reader #yandere arlecchino x reader #yandere harbinger x reader #yandere fatui x reader #genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere x reader #commissions #my stuff

610 notes · View notes

indouloureux · 2 years

Note

hi mama! are requests open again? if not ignore this but if they are:

i’m thinking of eddie w calling his gf mommy/mama and being all needy and maybe he goes into subspace and then some sweet cute aftercare.

-🦷

hey baby!! yes requests are open (but only for a bit <;3)

18+ mdni. cw: oral (m), blowjobs, cum eating, mommy kink, overstimulation, ball play, degradation (whore) aftercare. fem!reader

"h-holy fucking shit,"

eddie's moans are loud, almost pornographic, with the way your mouth sinks and your head bobs fast and unstoppable on his very sensitive cock. he's lost count of how many times you'd made him cum, and honestly, he couldn't find it himself to complain.

just because having his cock sucked by you was practically better than heaven and hell itself.

your left hand splays just on the skin adjacent to where the tush of his coarse curls rest above his girthy dick, right in the middle where the inked bat wings spread across his v-line. the head sinks down to your throat, and you swallow, his salty taste of precum and your spit being consumed. eddie yelps, his hands on your hair clenching.

"shit- yes. yes, mommy," he lets out a blissful laugh, and it makes you smile around his length. your vacant hand tugs and fondles with his sack, heavy with cum and clenching tightly as he nears his orgasm. you look up to see his eyes rolling to the back of his head, placing the bats on his hairy arms over his eyelids. "god- your mouth feels so amazing."

you discard your mouth from his aching cock, finger tracing the bulging vein from the bottom of his shaft up to beneath his almost red tip, to which you grant his slit with the flick of your tongue that makes his thighs shake. "oh, i know you do. you're such a whore for my mouth, aren't you? going out with your little friends and- oh fuck- just going on and on about how i kept on talking so much about this and that but look at you, crying for me. i wonder what they'll think knowing their precious dungeon master's all putty for some girl."

he whines in disdain. "fuuuck, mama. you're gonna make me cum,"

"fuuuck," you mock him, laughing sardonically when your hand comes up to jerk him off, flicking your wrist to squeeze at his head before it applies pressure to his shaft when you move down. "go ahead and cum for mommy, think you can do that?"

eddie nods. "mhm, y-yeah. yeah- fuckin' ozzy- i can do that for mommy. 've been a good boy,"

he cums a minute later despite his cries because fuck — your mouth was pleasure; hellfire with your searing tongue bringing him close. he cums in your mouth, and eddie sees stars.

his vision then goes white before it reels into a void. he thinks he might have passed out, but when he feels your gentle hand caress his face and a half panicked voice that brings him back to life, he's resurrected.

"oh, jesus," you laugh worriedly, placing your hand on his bare chest. "thought i might have killed you, eddie."

"you definitely did," he pants, eyes droopy.

"gonna take care of you now, 'kay baby? i put your boxers back on when you passed out and was able to get some water," you reach for the glass on the table. then he sees you pick up a wet rag that you placed beside his leg. "gonna clean you up now, yeah?"

eddie nods.

you press kisses to the purple bruises you left on his chest, caress the scratches you painted on his alabaster skin as you wipe the sticky substance away from his thighs and his sex. eddie sighs, body going lax on his lumpy bed.

and once you're done, eddie pulls you to his chest, placing your head right where his heart was.

"sorry i was mean to you earlier, mama," he whispers. "guess i was just kind of out of it, babe."

"but honestly," you turn, resting your chin on top of the tattooed spider. "if i get to punish you like that and have you moaning like some fuckin' pornstar, i'd let you talk shit about me, baby."

eddie laughs, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

reblogs and feedback are appreciated <3

#eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson #x reader

2K notes · View notes

strangemagicc · 5 months

Text

WADWSH | Chapter Three - Unexpected Visitor

masterlist | <prev | next>

pairings: 2000s!actor!Steve x fem!Reader, 2000s!bestfriend!Eddie x fem!Reader, love triangle, (based loosely on the movie Win a Date with Tad Hamilton)

summary: A Thursday night at The Hideout is interrupted by an unexpected visitor

author's note: Happy Thanksgiving! I'm sorry if this is a day late but life was throwing some curveballs yesterday. I hope you enjoy this chapter 🖤 I did my best to edit it while cooking so if you see mistakes…maybe you didn’t 🥹🖤Comments / reblogs are always appreciated! I will be out of the country so if I don’t respond please don’t think I’m ignoring you xx

warnings: angst, pining

w/c: 4.3k

The Hideout was packed, sweaty bodies pushed together in a crowd close to the makeshift stage that sat near the back of the hole-in-the-wall bar. You sat by the front entrance with Holly, the two of you nestled at a table lit only by the dim glow of the candle placed in the middle.

“So tell me again how he smelled,” Holly leaned in, chin perched in her hands as she looked at you excitedly. It had been nearly a week since your date with Steve Harrington. Nearly seven days spent in normalcy that made the weekend before seem like a dream, something that you’d made up entirely in your head. But there was no dreaming up the way Steve Harrington smelled, the way his hand felt on the small of your back, or the way his lips felt pressed to yours. Soft and sweet like honey. Despite the night of bliss, you’d returned to reality, crash landing into your day-to-day unable to daydream when you got a taste of the real thing. You’d divulged the details of your date to Holly several times over but always excluded the way the night ended, deciding that memory was meant just for you. You laughed at her now, the way her eyes were wide with anticipation. As though this was the first time she had heard it. As though she hadn’t made you smell the array of colognes at Star Court until you found one that was similar.

“Hmm, like bergamot and laundry detergent. Earthy but also like home?” You had trouble putting it into words but it stuck with you all these days later. Holly sighed dreamily, and you took a sip of your drink. Wincing slightly as the liquor hit your throat and the warmth settled into your stomach. You rubbed your sweaty palms over your jeans and tipped your head up as the crowd cheered, Corroded Coffin taking center stage. Eddie had an enigmatic energy about him, brown eyes hidden behind curly bangs taking in the crowd. One that had grown from five drunks to a swarm of people from out of town and he ate it up. Satisfied grin slotted into place as he greeted them. Exposed alabaster skin glowing under the stage lights, ink creating shadows on his arms. You cheered from your space at the back of the bar, the same place you’d sat since high school so he’d know where to find you. He looked your way, grin growing wider as he spotted you. His best friend and forever fan. You raised your drink up at him, your smile matching his. Wide and sincere. Happy and exuberant. The lights lowered to a deep blue painting everyone in a ghoulish glow.

“I hope we have some Radiohead fans here tonight,” the crowd roared and you clapped with a raised brow.

“I’m glad,” Eddie chuckled, “we aren’t in the habit of playing covers but I thought we might mix things up tonight,” he cleared his throat and looked towards his bandmates.

“Anyways this is Thinking About You by Radiohead,” the crowd clapped again. An acoustic guitar started, a turn from their usual sound. Eddie’s eyes were closed, foot tapping lightly as he listened to the sound. You rested your chin in your palm and watched him. Eyes tracing the lines of his strong shoulders and the swell of his biceps. His voice came through the microphone, a smooth baritone. Captivating and melancholic. He always had a presence on stage, one that pulled everyone in and kept them focused. Hypnotized. And you were always just as affected. Heart hammering against your chest as you heard his pain.

But I'm still no one

And you're my star

What do you care?

Eddie kept things close to chest, he never talked about crushes or dates. Never discussed make-outs or hookups, the entirety of his dating life shrouded in mystery and you wondered who this was about. Who had affected him, caused the sorrow in his voice as you watched him scan the room. His amber eyes were on you and everything else faded, blurred around the edges.

But I’m playing with myself

And what do you care when the other men are far, far better?

You swallowed the lump that had formed, blinking rapidly until you were back in the room with everyone else. Eddie’s eyes were still on you, watching as you chugged your beer. Chest heaving. And then your gaze met his, held it the rest of the song. He wondered if you knew, if you understood that it was for you. That it was about you. This song and the ones that he wrote.

“What a set,” you greeted Eddie beside the stage, hands placed in your back pockets as you looked up at him. Holly stood back, chugging her beer as she scanned the room. Looking for someone to help keep her bed warm tonight. Eddie’s bangs stuck to his forehead in sweat, exposed pale skin glistening as beads of perspiration rolled down his abdomen. His jeans hung low exposing the deep v line that disappeared into the denim. You swallowed hard as you looked at him, traced the muscle of his abdomen and the long stretch of his legs wrapped in tight black accentuating the muscle of his thighs. Eddie watched you, smirk growing the longer your eyes lingered on his frame. He cleared his throat, watched as your gaze went wide and cheeks grew a shade darker.

“If only those record execs thought the same of our demos,” he laughed, “What did you think of the first song?” He questioned, hands busy as he worked to help pack away instruments.

“I just need to know who I should fight for making my best friend sad,” you squished your eyebrows together so you’d look intimidating but he only found you that much more adorable.

“She’s a sweetheart, doesn’t deserve to catch those weapons,” he pointed to your hands and tried to hide the way his grin sank at the realization that you still didn’t get the clue. Holly looked at the two of you, lips circling her beer bottle as she chugged and watched both of you dance around his confession.

“Doesn’t seem like it if she makes you feel like that,” you shrugged and Eddie only chuckled. Humor not quite meeting the melodic sound.

“She is, trust me,” he winked at you and finished winding amp cords and packing away instruments. You opened your mouth to ask more but Holly stepped in, arm resting on your shoulder as she shook her empty bottle at Eddie.

“Eds, why don’t you be a gentleman and ask your favorite bartender for some freebies,” the blonde blinked up at him and he shot her an annoyed glance.

“Not happening tonight,” he brushed her off.

“Please,” she begged.

“What if I play you for a free round?” You joined in, loving the way he hated this game.

“Only one game, loser has to buy drinks,” he pointed a stern finger at you as Holly clapped her hands in excitement. Eddie threw a shirt on, black material clinging to the spots where he was still wet and led the way to the dartboard, grabbing the darts before handing them to you.

“Ladies first,” you reached to grab the darts from him but he pulled away, brown gaze trained on you.

“And no cheating this time,” he stated sternly and you rolled your eyes.

“I never cheat, you just always lose,” you teased as you grabbed the darts and stood behind the line of tape that marked your spot. Your first arrow landed single bullseye.

“Lucky first throw,” Eddie waved a dismissive hand and watched as you threw the second. It landed on the triple ring giving you twenty-four more points, totaling forty-nine.

“I don’t know Munson, looks like you’re getting us some free drinks,” you were cocky and he loved the way it painted your features. A smirk pulling on your plump lips, single eyebrow raised as you stared him down. He would lose over and over again if it meant that you’d always look at him like that. You threw another dart but it didn’t land and fell to the ground.

“Tough luck, sweetheart,” Eddie whispered from behind you and your breathing faltered for a brief moment. You threw your last one, watching as it landed. Another single bullseye.

“Beat that,” you turned to look up at him from beneath your lashes. Gaze a little taunting.

“Easily done,” he walked towards the dartboard and pulled them out, bending down to pick up the one you’d missed. You stood next to Holly, chugging down the last of your drink as you looked around the bar. Taking in the familiar faces, head bobbing to Todd Rundgren playing on the jukebox. Eddie lined himself up, black boots hitting the tape. He concentrated, the sharp lines of his face smoothing as he aimed. You walked up behind him and watched over his shoulder, chest pressed to his back. Lips inching closer to his ear.

“Miss, miss, miss,” you taunted and watched as his dart landed in the wood of the wall next to the board. Holly cheered and your hands shot up in victory. He only had three other chances to beat your score. Eddie turned to you, a glare set into his features.

“You are such a cheater,” he remarked, finger pointed at you once again. Your shoulders met your ears, feigning confusion at his accusations.

“I’m literally just standing here,” you laughed at him. The way his eyebrows were slightly quirked and his lips were twisted as he looked at you. Quiet murmurs filtered through the bar, people stilling in their seats or where they stood. You were caught up in your game with Eddie, poking at him every time he turned to throw a dart. Completely ruining his game. Holly gasped and caught your attention, her blue eyes trained on the front door. Both you and Eddie turned towards the entrance, watching as a figure walked through the crowd. A head of caramel brown waves you’d recognize anywhere. Steve looked around the space, eyes brightening when he finally spotted you. Eddie watched as you walked towards the actor, mouth slightly agape and surprise written on your face. Steve approached you, hands in the pocket of his blue jeans. Green shirt tight on the muscle of his biceps, the color accentuating the emerald in his hazel eyes. He was a little more sun-kissed than when you saw him last weekend, slightly more shy than your first introduction. Unsure of himself.

“W-what are you doing here?” You stammered, eyes darting to the dozens that were now on the two of you. Steve brushed at the back of his head, eyes focused behind you. Eddie’s glare not lost on him.

“I came to see you?” It came out like a question, as though he was worried he was overstepping. Your widening grin erased any doubts, your happiness contagious and he mirrored your smile. Holly was blubbering from her spot at the table, unable to form a coherent thought let alone a sentence. You turned to her and back at Steve.

“Steve this is my friend Holly.” The blonde jumped from her barstool and pulled her jean skirt down as she approached him. Hand extended to shake his.

“Nice to meet you, Holly,” he greeted and she giggled uncontrollably as their palms met. Schoolgirl giddiness taking over and you eyed her with concern. Unable to produce an explanation for her short-circuiting but Steve was used to it. You turned to Eddie, confusion creating lines in your forehead as you registered his expression. Annoyed and bothered.

“Um, this is my other friend Eddie,” you introduced them apprehensively. They shook hands, Steve shaking and flexing his hand when he withdrew it. As though Eddie nearly crushed it in his grasp.

“We were just playing a game of darts,” you pointed out, “Eddie was going to get us drinks if he lost.”

“I can buy us a round,” Steve offered and Eddie smacked his teeth. You turned to him curiously but he was looking towards his bandmates. Seeking an escape, his perfect night ruined.

“Count me out, the band and I have to get the equipment back.” Eddie pointed his thumb towards his group mates who were drinking at the bar. In no way looking as though they were prepared to leave.

“Um, okay. I’ll see you at work tomorrow?” You stepped away from Steve and stood in front of Eddie. His expression softened as he looked at you and nodded.

“Yeah see you tomorrow,” he pulled you into a quick hug, eyes trained on Steve. You wrapped your arms around him, squeezing his middle before you let go and turned to Holly.

“What about you, staying for drinks?” She looked between you and Steve, a knowing smirk and a shake of her head.

“I’ve had my eyes on the brunette sitting at the bar, think I’ll try to get her to get me one,” she shrugged and turned to grab her things. She kissed your cheek and whispered in your ear.

“Be careful,” and you nodded in response, watching as she slid into the seat next to the dark-haired girl with her elbows perched on the bar. You turned back to Steve, a smile working its way back onto your features.

“I’m sorry if I crashed your night,” he grimaced but you shook your head.

“A very pleasant surprise,” you insisted and looked around the bar. Several pairs of eyes were still on the two of you.

“Do you want to get out of here? Maybe grab a bite?” Steve looked at you with a broadened grin, one that made your knees a little weak the longer his eyes were trained on you.

“Yeah, that sounds good.” The two of you weaved through the small mass of people, his hand on the small of your back like a habit and you mellowed in the warmth of his palm. Steve showed you to his car, an older convertible BMW. Maroon and sleek. Pristine for its age. He opened the door for you and closed it behind you after you were comfortable in the leather seat. You watched as he jogged around the front and slid into the driver’s side. The tension was present, palpable, a buzzing in the air that exploded when your gazes met.

“Should we go to Benny’s?” And you forgot that this was his town, that he knew it just as well as you did.

“Are you hankering for another burger?” You teased, avoiding his gaze as you looked out the window. The breeze welcomed against your flushed skin.

“And we can share a shake,” he suggested, putting the car into reverse and leaning into the center console. His scent hit you, bergamot citrus and a hint of his laundry detergent. He smelled like summer nights, sunset walks and home. Comforting.

“Only if it’s a chocolate one,” he turned to you. Smile wide, breathtaking. God, he was beautiful.

“A chocolate shake it is,” and the two of you drove off. Breeze rippling through the opened cabin, stars shining down on the two of you. He kept his arm placed in the middle, palm up. An invitation, a silent question and you inched closer. Working up the courage to take his hand in yours. Your fingers danced across his skin, working into the slots between his until they were flush. A perfect fit. As though his hand was molded for yours. Your pulse thrummed in your wrist, butterflies soared in your abdomen and it wasn’t because he was Steve Harrington, a-list actor. It was because he was Steve Harrington, the first guy to make you feel like romance wasn’t just made for the movies.

Benny’s interior was much the same as when Steve was younger. The blue vinyl seats had a few more tears, laminated floors a little more scuffed but the waitress was the same one he saw the last time he was in town. Red hair with gray streaks forming at the crown, a crooked smile with a small mole just above her lip. Uniform a little more snug than before and accentuating her curves. She greeted Steve with an ecstatic smile, wrinkled hands gripping his forearm as she did.

“Stevie!” And he returned her excitement.

“Jude, I didn’t know you still worked here,” he placed his palm over her hand and squeezed softly.

“Oh, how could you? Packed up and left us ordinary folk behind. Became a big star,” she waved her hands in the air as if to accentuate her point. He nodded at her, politely agreeing with her observation.

“I’m very happy to see you,” he remarked instead.

“And you brought someone with you?” Jude peeked over Steve’s shoulder at you. Glossed smile meeting her eyes before she turned back to Stevie.

“Still bringing the girls here, huh?” She whispered though you heard her clear as day. You saw his ears go red, and you covered your laugh with a cough. His old reputation as King Steve not lost on you.

“This one is different,” he tried to whisper back but failed just as she did and she nodded at him.

“Of course she is,” she agreed, “real pretty too.” Jude grabbed two menus and began walking towards a far-off booth. There were only two other booths occupied, one by an old married couple and the other by a group of teenagers. Each group looked at the two of you curiously as though they were trying to place the two of you, wondering why you both looked familiar. You watched as recognition dawned on them and their eyes lit up, mouths widening as Steve Harrington walked past them in their town’s nearly dilapidated diner. Despite his roots, there was an air about him that screamed he didn’t belong. Steve slid into the vinyl seat opposite of you and grabbed his menu from Jude.

“I’ll get you some waters to start,” and she was gone. Leaving the two of you in silence and staring at your menus. The butterflies were an endless eruption at your center, wings unfurling as new ones blossomed. It felt like the first drop of a roller coaster, stomach flipping and heart racing as it tried to catch up with the rest of your body. You couldn’t think about eating, too many questions swirling in your mind. Too many things you wanted to know.

Steve laid his menu down first and rested his elbows on the table. He played with his bottom lip, pulling at it absently as though he was also debating what to say. You placed your menu on top of his and hid your hands under the table wringing the hem of your shirt. Jude returned with your waters, straws plopped between the perspiring glasses.

“Already decided on what you’re going to eat?” She pulled her notepad out and clicked her pen looking at you expectantly.

“I’ll just take a basket of fries and a chocolate shake,” Jude scribbled the order down.

“Two straws?” And you looked to Steve who smiled at you encouragingly, not going back on what he said in the car.

“Please,” you nodded at the older woman who then turned to him.

“And for you handsome?”

“Double cheeseburger, no mustard. And could you bring two plates?”

“Sure thing,” she ripped the order from the pad and walked away towards the window that separated the front of the house from the kitchen. Bell ringing as she alerted the cook to the new order.

“So,” you began and Steve raised his eyebrows at you.

“What brings you into town?” You ignored his previous confession, not able to believe you were the only reason he was here. He pulled at his hair, muscles flexing with his movements.

“Uh, just needed to get away,” he laughed awkwardly.

“And you came to Hawkins for a vacation?” You giggled and grabbed for your straw, unwrapping the paper and plopping the plastic into your water.

“Hawkins has a certain draw to it,” he shrugged and looked to you. His hazel eyes conveying a message he was working to put into words.

“A certain draw?” You leaned in, knowing the answer but wanting to hear it again.

“Wanted to see you again,” he moved closer to you, elbows sliding along the tabletop.

“One date wasn’t enough?” You let out a choked laugh and took a drink of your water. Heart thumping as you began to pull at your fingers. He grabbed your hand more easily, thumb rubbing across your knuckles.

“No, truthfully it wasn’t,” he shook his head, eyeing the tabletop as he continued.

“On our date, when we were at the beach, it was the first time that the world around me faded away. God, I know that sounds cheesy but it was the first time in a long time that I didn’t care about the pap shot or the next day’s headlines. I just felt at peace, the version of myself that I want to be,” he looked back up at you now. A little more exposed, mossy eyes vulnerable and anticipating your scrutiny.

“And what version is that?” You rubbed your thumb against his palm in encouragement.

“Just Steve,” he let out a small chuckle and you squeezed his hand.

“I like just Steve,” you agreed. Before you could say more you were interrupted by Jude announcing her presence, reciting your orders as she pushed your plates onto the table. You hummed as you dipped a fry into a dollop of ketchup and savored the saltiness. Steve split his burger in two and slid a half across to your side. You looked up at him a little confused.

“In case you wanted more than fries,” he pointed at your half with his knife before placing it down and digging into his. You smiled to yourself in satisfaction as you nibbled on your burger and drank long drags of your chocolate shake. Not sharing as much as you’d promised but Steve didn’t mind.

The two of you walked hand in hand back to his car, the small glow of the moon guiding you. You weren’t ready for the night to end or for Steve to let go of your hand. He stopped in front of the passenger door and smoothed his palms up your arms, goosebumps sprouting where they touched.

“Can I see you tomorrow?” You nodded instinctively and eyed the plush of his lips.

“I can pick you up in the morning?” You nodded but then remembered.

“No,” you shook your head and hid your face.

“Is the afternoon better?” He asked a little confused as you continued to shake your head.

“I forgot that I have to work tomorrow,” you looked at him with a jut of your lip, disappointment coloring your features. Steve rubbed reassuring circles into your flesh and brought you closer.

“That’s okay, we can do something after if you’re not too tired.” You nodded at him, eyes trained on his sincere gaze.

“I won’t be too tired,” you promised.

“Great, I will pick you up at eight,” he leaned closer to you. You could feel the warmth of his breath against your pout, the whisper of his lips against yours.

“Sounds perfect,” you agreed and pushed onto your tiptoes to close the space. His lips melded into yours. Slow and sweet like cinnamon. His hands moved to your face, thumb brushing against your jaw and fingers curling in your hair. Your hands tangled into his shirt pulling at him as the kiss deepened. You wanted more than before, needed more. His thumb pulled at your mouth asking for permission and you granted him access. Tongue flat and wet against his. You hummed in bliss, getting lost in his kisses until you were lightheaded and in need of air. He pulled away, pupils a little blown, fingers splayed against your cheek. Rubbing against the softness of your skin. Your chest was heaving, lungs desperate for oxygen but eyes locked on his.

“Fuck, I’ve been thinking about kissing you since the night at the beach. Wished I had kissed you more,” he confessed and you smiled a little dumb. Goofy grin wide at his sincerity.

“I’ve been thinking of you too,” you revealed. He kissed you once more, a soft peck against your lips before he pulled away to open your door.

“I should get you home,” you slid into your seat, fingers rubbing against your lips as if you couldn’t believe it. Steve plopped into his seat, started the car, and drove you home. Your hand wrapped in his, the wind whirring as the two of you drove in starlight. He pulled up in front of your trailer and helped you to the front door. An excuse for another kiss, a proper goodbye.

Eddie had heard the noise of a car, saw the headlights stopped in front of your place and became curious. He moved to the front window of his shared trailer and pushed the curtains open. Heart in his throat when he noticed you tangled in Steve’s arms, lips locked together. Eddie dropped his head as he closed the curtains, turning towards the kitchen and grabbing a beer before he moved the couch. He stared at the remote propped on the makeshift coffee table, a little sullen. A storm raging in his head. It wasn’t just a little crush, Eddie loved you something big but he could never admit it. Worried about ruining your friendship but now he agonized over the truth because now either way he stood a chance of losing you. He chugged the rest of his beer, adamant that he’d confess.

tag list: @halflifejess, @allthingsjoeq, @wiltedflowersundertowers, @redbarn1995, @Thatsscarylookin, @sweetdazequeen, @the-side-blog777, @eddiesguitarskills, @hitoshislut, @slutty-thevampireslayer, @my-little-secret-diaries, @nailbatanddungeon, @mopeymopeymouse, @palmtreesx3, @Ljr1230, @corrodedcoffincumslut, @littlesubbyflower, @diffrent-spokes, @emistrash

*if you requested to be tagged but were not listed it was because your blog wouldn’t pull up with the username provided or I couldn’t verify you were 18+.

click here to be added to tag list 🩵

118 notes · View notes