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gurugirl · 9 months

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Let Me Show You

Based on this request

best friend's dad!harry x reader | forbidden relationship

Summary: Your best friend's dad, Mr. Styles, is quite good at giving advice, amongst other things OR How your illicit affair with Mr. Styles began

Word Count: 6.3k

Warning: 18+ only, smut, cheating, age gap

best friend's dad!harry masterlist

Mr. Styles had a way about him that you admired. He was sure of himself and was good at just about everything he did. He was also really good at listening and giving advice. When you told him about how your boyfriend had hurt your feelings and how you were considering breaking up with him he told you that you could do better, that you deserved better.

And you knew he was right. He was always right. So when you broke up with Randy you didn’t once look back or regret it.

To Mr. Styles: I did it. Thank you for your advice, Mr. Styles.

You texted Harry as you got into your car in the parking lot of the sandwich shop where you broke up with your boyfriend.

Fae would probably call you weird for texting her dad. She’d wonder what you were doing with his number in the first place.

But Harry insisted you text him after breaking up with Randy. He said he wanted to make sure you were okay and that you’d gone through with it. That he didn’t want to hear any excuses as to why you couldn’t do it. So he gave you his number and he took yours, telling you that if you didn’t reach out to him he’d be calling you himself.

From Mr. Styles: You’re welcome, Y/n. Where are you right now?

You started your car up just as he texted back.

To Mr. Styles: The parking lot at Dixie’s. I’m about to drive home.

You could see that he’d read the text right away and your heart skipped a beat when you saw the text bubbles indicating he was texting you back.

Fae would also hate that you had the biggest crush on her dad. The biggest. It was unhealthy actually, the kind of crush you had.

See, Mr. Styles wasn’t just someone you admired for his confidence and thoughtful advice. He was also gorgeous. His eyes were seafoam, crystal green. His lips were pink berry tinted. When he smiled he had dimples that carved into his cheeks. His jawline was chiseled and his dark hair was thick and wavy. He was tall with a fit body and broad shoulders, tattoos, big hands, a deep voice, and the most sex appeal you’d ever seen in one person.

From Mr. Styles: I’ll meet you at your apartment. I’m in the area anyway. I’d like to hear how the conversation went with your boyfriend.

From Mr. Styles: Ex-boyfriend.

You’d just broke up with Randy but you’d already forgotten all about him as you texted your best friend’s dad back with a large grin on your face.

To Mr. Styles: Okay. See you soon!

Your apartment complex was a little run down. It was in a safeish area but it was what you could afford with your wage as a waitress.

When you pulled into the parking lot you spotted Harry’s car immediately. His car stood out like a sore thumb amongst all the used, beat-up, and older models.

You quickly walked toward his Land Rover and watched him get out. You slowed your stroll to take him in.

That was another thing about him. He always looked so well put together. Harry was wearing dark blue slacks with a crisp white button-up shirt tucked in, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, a few buttons undone from the top down, leather loafers, and his hair was coifed on his head just so. Rings on his fingers, and his signature cross necklace, the pendant dangling right at the top center of his well-defined pecs. A gorgeous sight.

“Hello, darling,” he greeted you and pulled you in for an easy hug.

You hugged back and smiled as you pressed your cheek to his shoulder, he smelled nice.

Backing away from the hug you looked up at him, “Hi, Mr. Styles.”

He loved that you were so polite. So sweet. Yet he knew that you had a crush on him and that he loved the most.

You led him up to your apartment. This was the first time he would come inside. He’d picked up Fae a few times so he knew where you lived. But the idea that he’d be stepping into your little home made you feel nervous.

You kept your place tidy most of the time. You had pictures framed and hung everywhere. Some art pieces that you made yourself for fun. Your couch was cheap but it looked nice. Your rug was from Ikea and was a splurge.

But that wasn’t why you were nervous. It was because this man you’d lusted after for years was coming into your private space with you. Alone.

You weren’t dumb. You knew the implications. You understood on some level that Harry thought you were pretty. But of course, he was married. And he was your father’s age. So it was unlikely that this meant anything. But still. The fact that he was conveniently in the area and said he was coming over, knowing you wouldn’t say no… well it certainly wasn’t out of the question that something could happen.

Harry stood close behind you as you unlocked and opened your door, stepping in and allowing him space to enter behind you before you closed the door. Sunlight came through your windows and it was bright enough that you didn’t bother to flick on any extra lights out of habit. You didn’t like to turn on lights when you didn’t need to. Who wanted to pay a needlessly higher electricity bill?

You looked up at Harry as he scrutinized your space in silence for a few beats.

“S’nice, Y/n. Clean and uncluttered. I’m impressed.” He moved past you to look at your wall of framed photos.

You followed and stood next to him, “Well, what did you think? That I was a slob or something,” you chuckled as you looked at your photos.

Harry turned to look at you and the slight grin on his face gave way to a wider smile, “Okay, sassy girl. I was just giving you a compliment. No need to get mouthy.”

You laughed and looked down at your cuticles, not knowing how to respond exactly. He had you feeling a bit empty-headed in that moment.

But then you brought your gaze back up to his and remembered your manners, “Would you like something to drink, Mr. Styles? I’ve got water, strawberry soda, orange juice… uh… almond milk–“

“A glass of water will be perfect. Thank you.”

Harry watched you traipse to your kitchen quickly as he continued to look around as he sat down on your little couch and waited for you.

Harry wasn’t sure exactly why he was with you alone in your apartment. He knew he shouldn’t be there. He knew better than to entertain the kinds of dirty thoughts he often had about his daughter’s best friend. But, well, here he was. And you were adorable wearing your short cutoff jean shorts and white razorback tank top.

When you returned with two glasses of water you sat down next to Harry and nervously smiled.

“Thank you, darling,” Harry lifted the glass upward before bringing it to his lips and taking a big gulp. You followed suit and then placed the glass on your side table.

“Tell me about how it went. Did he try to change your mind?”

You swallowed and nodded, “It was hard. I hated doing it but also it felt really good. He promised me he could change and asked me to give him another chance. But I just remembered what you told me, about how I deserve better and I kept that in mind and stood my ground.”

Harry kept his eyes on you as you spoke and every bit of your body and skin that Harry’s irises landed on heated up from his gaze. You wiggled in your seat under his examination.

“Stood your ground. Good girl.”

You could have passed out. He’d never called you that before. And the way it sounded coming from his mouth had your throat going dry.

“You do deserve better, you know. You’re too good to waste your time on a boy like Rudy.”

“Randy.” You corrected.

“What’s that?” Harry raised his brows at you.

“Uh… his name is Randy. You said Rudy.”

Harry nodded slowly and looked down at your lips with a smirk before settling his gaze back onto your eyes, “Right. Randy. Definitely would be a shame to get his name wrong.”

You nervously laughed and shook your head, “Oh it’s okay! You know… I don’t care actually. Not important.”

Harry watched you squirm nervously as he licked his lips. As if he was readying himself for a meal. You did look mouthwatering. You pretty much always did. And he could admit that he’d like a taste at the very least.

“And what are your plans for the rest of the day?”

Shaking your head and shrugging your shoulders you looked down at your lap. His intense gaze was making you blurry and dumb. It was like listening to him speak another language and you had to translate the words in your head before you could understand and then respond.

“I’m… uh… was just gonna maybe call Fae. Go out later since I’m off tomorrow.”

Harry nodded, “And where would you go out to?”

You cleared your throat and kept your eyes down so you could breathe, “Thinking about that bar just up the street. We haven’t been yet and it’s so nearby–“

“I need you to look at me when you’re speaking to me.”

You’d never whipped your head upward so fast in your life. That was another thing about Mr. Styles. If he told you to do something you never hesitated. “Sorry, sir.”

He kept an easy grin on his face as he leaned his back into your couch cushions, crossing his ankle over his knee, and then moving his arm along the back of the couch, “No need to be sorry. Just want to see your pretty eyes when you’re talking is all.”

You could feel the warmth from his thigh radiating against your bare leg. You looked down to see how close he was sitting to you before quickly planting your gaze back on his.

He saw your glance downward and looked himself to note the proximity, “Am I sat too close to you?” You shook your head quickly, “No. That’s fine. The couch is small anyway. Can’t really help it.” You smiled and tried to chill out but the way he was dragging his irises over your skin and along the material of your shirt that stretched softly over your breasts before bringing them back up to look into your eyes had you sweating. And you hated that you’d begun to grow a little wet in your panties.

“Can I ask you a personal question? You don’t have to answer but I’m curious about something.”

You tried to focus your eyes on his and not look away as you swallowed and nodded, “Yes. Sure.”

He brought his arm across his body and touched the side of your neck, gently brushing the pads of his fingers against your pulse point causing you to inhale sharply, “This. Is this from Randy?”

You blinked your eyes and put your fingers on the spot he was touching and remembered that Randy had given you a hickey. When you first noticed that gave you a hickey it was quite large. You’d been covering it with makeup but now that it had mostly faded you didn’t think anyone would notice it.

You nodded, “Yeah. From a while ago. It was really big but now it’s mostly gone.”

“Did it feel good when he gave it to you?”

You dropped your mouth open in surprise. You hadn’t expected him to ask that. But you also didn’t want to not answer the man.

You smiled and dropped your hand down into your lap while Harry’s fingers remained on your neck, softly brushing at your sensitive skin, “It did. I hate it now because it’s from him, but… at the time… yeah.”

Mr. Styles nodded and you felt his thumb press over the spot before lowering down to the top of your clavicle.

“Did he always make you feel good?”

You were barely holding it together. Between the way he was touching your neck, and how intense his eyes were on you it felt like you were having an out-of-body experience.

“What do you mean?”

“You two had sex, correct? Or at least fooled around a bit?”

You began to pant as Harry’s finger wrapped gently along the side of your neck, his thumb at the front softly stroking your flesh. “Yeah. Um… not always. No.”

“Okay. Did he make you come?”

Your eyes fluttered shut for a moment as you sucked air into your lungs and felt his thigh press against yours.

Shaking your head you opened your eyes back up to look at him, “No. Never.”

Harry cocked his head and furrowed his brows, “Never? You’ve never made yourself come either?”

“Oh! I mean… yeah. I just mean that I never came with Randy. He wasn’t… didn’t listen.”

Nodding his head his furrowed brow softened, “Sounds about right. Has anyone ever made you come? Or just yourself?”

You knew he could feel the way your blood was pumping through your pulse point. Your heart was going wild in your chest as you watched Harry’s eyes darken, “Just by myself.”

“S’what I thought.” Suddenly Harry’s hand left your neck as he stood up from the couch. He put his hand out to you to grab, “Let’s do an experiment. But we’ll need to move this into your bedroom if you don’t mind.”

Harry pulled you up from the couch and kept his big palm wrapped around yours as he walked you to your bedroom.

Harry pointed to your bed as he looked at you. “Climb up, love. Don’t be shy.”

You let out a small nervous laugh through your nose as you sat on your bed and let your legs dangle off the edge. You watched as he got onto his knees in front of you and began untying your tennis shoes, taking each one off before pulling your socks off your feet.

He looked up at you softly as he put his hands on your knees, “Let me show you what it’s supposed to feel like. So next time some asshole says he doesn’t know how to get you off you’ll remember this and you’ll know the loser’s just too lazy to work for your pleasure,” he slid his hands up your thighs as you began to nod quickly. His warm hands gliding over your skin and to the fray of your jean shorts was more erotic than anything Randy had ever done with you.

“Is that okay? You want me to show you?”

You continued nodding as your breaths deepened. You could already feel your nipples tightening under your thin bra and you were positive Harry could see it.

“Is that a yes? I’d like to hear you say it to me. I appreciate the nod but your voice is too pretty not to use.”

“Yes, sir. Please.”

Harry grinned, “And I get a please too? So sweet for me.”

Harry sat up so his hips were against the side of your bed as he plucked your button from its spot and then unzipped slowly, “We’re gonna get these clothes off of you. I need access to all your bits. Understand?”

“Um… yes. Of course.” You pulled at the bottom hem of your shirt to pull it off but Harry grasped your wrists and tsk’d at you.

“Ah ah ah… Let me show you what’s it like to be treated as well as you deserve. We’re not in any hurry. Are we?”

Shaking your head you whispered, “No. Sorry.”

Harry pulled your hands to his mouth and kissed the inside of each of your wrists, “Don’t be sorry.”

Mr. Styles began to gently tug your shorts down your legs, leaving you in your yellow Sponge Bob panties. That was embarrassing. You hadn’t expected anyone to be seeing your panties and you’d totally forgotten which pair you threw on that morning until Harry smirked and inspected the cotton fabric stretched over your hips, “Cute. I like these,” he rubbed his thumbs over the edge of the fabric at your hips slowly before taking your tank top and pulling it up over your head as he stood up.

You were adorable. Little yellow cartoon panties and a white stretchy bra with a tiny pink ribbon at the center. Mismatched but practical he supposed. Didn’t matter anyway. They would soon be off.

Harry put his big hands on your hips and pushed you deeper into the bed, crawling with you. You propped yourself up by your elbows as he smoothed his hands up your tummy and to the underside of your breasts before bringing one hand down to your left thigh and pushing it outward just a bit. He turned his gaze to the fabric of your wet crotch. The yellow material was darker where your arousal had seeped out.

He licked his lips again and grunted as he thumbed along the elastic that clung to your inner thigh and he sucked in a sharp breath, “So wet already? Honestly, I didn’t expect this, Y/n. S’a very nice surprise for me. Do you get wet easily?”

You shook your head. Your lips were already parted as you began to respond, “No. Usually takes a bit.”

Harry grinned as he thumbed the wet patch on your panties and quickly found the spot where your clit was, “I consider this the highest form of a compliment. Like a little gift just for me.”

You let out a shaky breath as you watched him smooth his thumb over your panties and press into your button before bringing his digit to his mouth and sucking it into his mouth.

He had a devious smirk on his face when he pulled his thumb out and spoke, “No shower today?”

You gasped and tried to close your thighs together but he pushed your legs apart, his fingers digging into the soft inner part of your thighs. You put an arm up over your eyes to shield yourself from embarrassment.

It was true. You hadn’t showered that day. Not yet. You planned on going out to celebrate being single with Fae later on and you’d shower before that, but you hadn’t had the time yet. It’d been a little over 24 hours since you had.

“Don’t be embarrassed, Y/n. Your little pussy’s so fragrant so I just had to ask. Hate when it doesn’t smell or taste like pussy. It’s just another nice little surprise for me is all.”

You felt him pull your panties down your legs and you moved your arm to watch. You were mortified. You knew you were “fragrant” down there. Which was why you’d planned on showering before going out. But now you had your wet pussy bare and smelly before Harry Styles who pointed this fact out to you.

“I was going to shower before going out tonight…” you moaned when he dragged his thumb through your crease.

“You’re not going out tonight. You and I have work to do here. Don’t we?”

Your eyes were burning and your vision was fuzzy, which you knew to be from lust. You were so turned on that all your senses were being affected by him.

Nodding your head you spoke softly, “Yeah. Okay.”

Harry sat up and leaned over your frame his face coming in close to yours, “I forgot my manners completely. Got so caught up with you. Made me feel so needy that I nearly forgot we haven’t even kissed yet.”

You were just a melty little puddle of breaths and pumping blood under him as his lips pressed into yours. He tried to start off slowly. You could tell he was going in gently but you were shaky and out of your mind. You licked over his lips and grasped onto his collar to pull him into you and deepen the kiss.

Harry sputtered a laugh but was cut off when you licked your tongue into his mouth.

From there, Harry’s mouth pushed against yours hard and his lips and tongue guided your mouth. His fingers found your wet folds as he continued kissing you.

You gasped into his mouth when he slid two fingers inside of you. He hadn’t bothered to take his rings off and you could feel the metal against your soft skin as he pumped his long digits and in and out slowly.

When the bed was suddenly directly under your back, you realized he’d pushed you down flat as he parted from the kiss. He looked over your frame under him and his hands were sweeping over your bra before he kneaded gently, slowly pushing one hand underneath your back to unhook the clasp of your bra. You arched your back so he could reach it and the moment the metal hook was undone the stretchy fabric was pulled from your tits and Harry’s mouth was on you, sucking and lapping at your nipples

And then you heard him moan when he latched on particularly hard to one of your nipples and he placed his fingers back inside your cunt.

You could come. Just like that. His long fingers stretched and poked deep while his mouth worked over your tits softly before pulling your nipple harshly.

Sticking your fingers into his hair and closing your eyes you moaned loudly and began to writhe against his hand harder when you felt your orgasm close in. It was a shock how quickly it began to unwind but you were at Harry’s mercy and he was doing everything right.

Harry pushed himself up and smiled down at you with slick pink lips as he pulled his fingers from your cunt, “So sensitive too. How is it that you’ve never come with anyone, hmm? When you’re this reactive to me?” He circled his thumb over your clit teasingly and you bucked up into his hand and groaned just as he pulled it away.

Mr. Styles dipped in to kiss your lips again before moving down your body and hovering his face over your pussy as he looked up at you, “Do you want to come?”

You were already on edge, just about to tip into a new realm as you nodded hastily, “Yes, sir. I do.”

The smirk on his face was suddenly hidden as he lowered his lips to your clit and licked. The obnoxiously loud moan that fell from your lips had him laughing into your cunt as he lapped you up and reinserted his fingers.

His free hand held your opposite thigh down and the pressure that built up again was causing you to shake uncontrollably. You stuck your hands into his hair again and gasped at the way his lips worked your wet pussy, the way his fingers dug into you deeply and nudged into that yummy spot that you only ever got to enjoy with your vibrator.

“Ooh! My god! Mr. Styles! Mr. Styles…” You were powerless under him. The way he was sucking your clit into his mouth felt exquisite but at the same time, it was like your blood and guts were boiling hot and filling your limbs, searing your skin.

Harry hadn’t heard a woman squeal in a long time. He used to enjoy things like this with his wife but it had been a minute since she wanted to really play with him in the way he liked. All his skill and sex appeal were wasted all these years. But now he was getting to finally unleash his prowess on you. Such a delicate and sexy little thing. You deserved it. He imagined it more times than he should, doing the very thing he was at that moment, making you wobble and wet his face and shriek as you came.

He watched your soft tits shake and goosebumps cover your skin as he held you down and gently licked you as you came down from your release. It was incredible. So pretty to see you spread out and vulnerable for him.

When you finally opened your eyes Harry’s face was still between your legs. His cheek against your inner thigh as he looked up at you, “Better?”

You breathed out a laugh and nodded as you pushed yourself up to your elbows, “Yeah. Better.”

Harry sat back to his shins and you noticed right away the massive bulge pushing at the front of his pants. You reached your hand toward him and looked at the lump he was sporting, “Can I? Do you want…”

The grin on Harry’s face told you he knew what you were asking but he wasn’t going to let you off so easily. He wanted you to say what you wanted, “Can you… what?”

“You’re hard.”

“Tends to happen when I’m eating pussy,” he licked his lips with his eyes on you.

“Do you want me to… like… give you a blow job?”

“Hmm…” Harry squinted his eyes as he began to undo his pants slowly, “Maybe. Would you be against letting me fuck you?”

Your heart rate increased once again. Sex? With this man? You were nodding quickly before the words left your mouth, “Yeah. I mean… I’m not against it. I’d like that. I… I don’t have any condoms here–“

Harry pulled at your wrist and shushed you, “It’s okay. If you don’t want to that’s fine. But I’m clean. Haven’t been with anyone but Fae’s mom in a very long time.”

“Oh.” The reminder that Harry was married to your best friend’s mom made you step outside of the moment as you looked down toward where he’d opened his pants. His grey boxer briefs peeked out from under, his clear erection curving beneath the fabric. He looked so yummy and you’d love to feel him. But this was wrong, wasn’t it?

Harry noticed your hesitation and he pulled his pants up as he started to tug at his zipper but you were quickly reaching for his hand and looking up at him with those sweet eyes he couldn’t stop thinking about, “No! Please. I want you. I’m on birth control. So… And I always used a condom before so I’m good.”

Harry raised his brows at you in question, “Positive? You’re not just saying that to make me feel better are you? You want me to fuck you?”

“So much. Yes. Please.”

His lips smashed against yours when he pulled you into his chest. You could feel his heart pounding under his shirt. He was excited too.

When he’d gotten you laid back and spread out he pulled his pants and briefs off and removed his shirt. You were sure his nice clothes were going to wind up wrinkled with the way he tossed them into the floor but he didn’t seem to care.

And you’d seen his body before at the beach when you went swimming, and in his house when he walked around after working out and didn’t bother putting on a shirt… But you’d never seen his cock. And certainly not hard and leaking like it was.

His heavy shaft swayed as he positioned himself back in between your legs and he pushed the tops of his thighs to the back of yours. You couldn’t help it when you reached down to stroke him. He was thick and warm and the smooth, ridged skin felt delicious under your palm.

“Feels so good having your little hand on me like that, Y/n. Don’t think you know how many times I’ve imagined this very moment.”

You were still slick from everything before but you felt yourself clench and drip just imagining how good it would feel to have him stuffed inside of you. He was long too. So you knew it would reach into your cervix and make you ache in the way your vibrator did.

“I’ve imagined it too. I’ve wanted this for a long time, Mr. Styles.”

Harry keened and sucked at his teeth as he rocked his hips softly and began to slide the underside of his shaft through your folds. You kept your palm over the top of him as he moved up and down, slowly wetting himself with you. He kept his eyes on yours as he nudged his tip into your clit and then to your entrance, “You ready? You really want this?”

“Yes! Please!” Your chest was heaving in anticipation as you moved your hand from his shaft and held onto his forearms.

It was slow at first. He entered your tight muscle with a small snap and pulled back before pushing in deeper. You could see his muscles straining, his dark tattoos against his tan skin, his hair falling over his forehead, pink lips parted, nostrils flaring. He was enjoying your body. It felt good for him and you could see that.

“Holy fuck…” he grunted as he continued to bury himself deeper inside. He was already shaking like a teenage virgin. Your tight pussy wrapped around him, coated him, opened up for him slowly…

You choked out a garbled moan when he finally bottomed out. It was deep and you were right. Your cervix felt his tip kissing it with each thrust.

He began to roll his hips a little faster as he sat up and pulled your legs over his thighs, lifting your bottom off the mattress so he could fuck into you deeper yet and rub your clit to make you tip over the edge before he did. He knew he was going to come unbelievably fast. You were too pretty and felt too fucking good.

Harry’s hands stayed at your hips to keep you in place over his thighs as he plunged into your wet cunt over and over again.

“Hear that, Y/n? Hear how we sound together?”

You moaned a yes and gasped at how full he felt inside of you. It was noisy. You were absolutely soaked and the syrupy sound of his wide cock dipping into your drippy pussy, parting your walls was dirty. Soppy.

“How’s it feel, Y/n? Tell me what you need.” Harry’s words came out in panted breaths as rolled into you and released one of your hips to manipulate your clit with his fingers causing you to coo loudly.

“Oh! Mr. Styles! It’s so good. So deep, Fuck!”

Your bed creaked under you as he began to work into you even more and push into you deeper. You seemed to enjoy the way his dick poked into your cervix so he’d give you more of that.

“Yeah? I’m so deep in your tummy? Gonna give me your come? Let me feel you fall apart on my cock like this? Hmm?”

The view of his thick shaft, shiny and creamy with you as he plunged into your entrance, your lips gripping him tight as he pulled back and pushed in, was going to be something he’d be fucking his fist to for a long time to come.

“Yes! Please!” Your tits were swaying as he swiveled his cock into you painfully deep, hips pasted to yours, only pushing in deeper and deeper, balls tucked into your bum, slick with the way your arousal had melted down over him as he fucked into you.

Harry gasped and clenched his teeth at the way you squeezed around him tightly.

When he finally pulled back to his tip you both caught your breaths. He was so close to coming and you were on the edge already. Just as he intended.

He gently thumbed at your clit and watched your face contort, small puffs of breath and whiney gasps falling from your lungs.

“Y/n. Can you look at me, sweet girl?”

You peeled your eyes opened and set your pupils onto his. You were already looking absolutely fucked out, in a total daze, and that made him smile.

“Where do you want me to come? Want to know beforehand so I’m not doing anything you’re not okay with. Because I’m gonna come very soon.”

You swallowed and blinked your bleary eyes. Harry’s chest was rising and falling heavily and his skin was flushed.

“Want your come inside of me. Is that okay?”

Harry breathed out a laugh of disbelief and nodded, “More than okay. S’perfect in fact. You’re gonna milk my cock good, aren’t you? Want me to fill your tummy with up nice and full?” Harry dipped in a few inches before backing out to the tip again and you whimpered.

“Yes. I want to be full with you.”

Harry closed his eyes and called on all his strength to not come that very second. Your soft rounded eyes looking at him in that way that told him you needed him while his cock was inside of you was nearly too much. He was obsessed. There was no way he wouldn’t want to do this with you again.

But the moment he had composed himself and gotten his second wind he looked back down at your pretty body lying under him and he began to move into you again, getting deeper and deeper until his pace had you being pushed upward at each thrust. Your tits bounced and your bed creaked. Harry's hips rocking into yours was harsh, his skin smacking into yours, wet slushy sounds.

His thumb circled over you tightly again and you moaned as you grasped his thighs bent under yours.

Your eyes began to flutter as your body lost all control of its motions. Your mouth dropped open and your face twisted up. Harry watched you contort your mouth and the little noises you were making egged him on to pound into you harder as his thumb worked your clit back and forth.

Everything was wet. Harry’s whole lap was drenched in you. You’d dripped down your thighs and over his balls on the tops of his thighs. It was the exact kind of sex he’d been missing for so long. Messy and smelly and hot.

You suddenly gasped and then went quiet as your orgasm began to take over. You clenched and pulsed over Harry with your mouth wide, your entire body trembling.

“Ooh fuck me… Fuck, Y/n… Oh shit…” It was too good. Too decadent. The way your cunt clamped down and spasmed around his heavy cock sent him over the edge.

And just like he said, your pussy milked him for everything he was worth. He pushed into you deeply, groaning your name between curses as his balls tightened and emptied into his long shaft and pushed out the tip, spurts of his warm come flooding your insides as he stilled his hips against yours snugly.

You could feel his cock throbbing inside of you as he moaned your name. You forced your eyes open to look at him. To watch as he orgasmed inside of you, his come claiming your body and ruining you for anyone else. His head was thrown back and he held your hips possessively as he emptied everything he had into you.

Your brain was fuzzy and your ears rang as he lowered himself down over you and brought his mouth against yours softly.

He was still pulsing the slightest as your mouths moved together lazily. You put your hands into his hair and sighed into the kiss. You hadn’t felt so content in a long time. Maybe ever. He truly did know how to do it right. He said he was going to show you what it was supposed to feel like and he did. Now settling for anything less just didn’t make sense.

When he pushed himself up to look down at you he had a haphazard smile on his face, “How was that?” He knew the answer.

You laughed and grinned, “The best. Better than my vibrator even.”

Harry breathed out a laugh and shook his head, “You gonna let me do that again sometime?”

“Thought you said you and I had work to do and that I can’t go out tonight?”

He furrowed his brow, “Yeah?”

“So, I kind of thought… we’d do that again. Like later. Since it sounded like you were gonna keep me busy all night. Or did you not mean that?”

Harry laughed and you got to see his gorgeous dimples before he pushed his nose against yours, “You want it again tonight? I wasn’t sure you’d be up for it. But we can certainly make a night of it. I do have to leave at like nine so no one wonders where I am.”

You turned your head to look at the clock and then back to Harry, your smile giddy and wide, “Good. I’ve got you for five more hours then.”

“Mmhmm…” he hummed against your mouth and kissed you before looking back down at you again. “But I meant beyond tonight too. I think we could have some fun together.”

You bit your lip. You couldn’t believe the kind of day you’d had. It started with dread when you woke up thinking about how you were going to break up with Randy. And now here you were with Mr. Styles’ cock stuffed inside your pussy, his come starting to leak out onto your comforter slowly as he asked to extend this little affair. How could you say no?

“Yeah. That sounds really good. I think we could have a lot of fun together too.”

Read next: Desperate

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leovenuslatina · 1 month

Text

Mind of Mine ᡣ𐭩 •｡

˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

a look into your lovers thoughts about you

──★ ˙ ̟🎀 !!

psa- tarot readings are not set in stone at the end of the day you have full control of your reality not some random hottie on the internet w cards so take what resonates and leave the rest 💓((dm for personal readings prices 💗))

take a deep cleansing breathe

pick a pile that calls to you

──★ ˙ ̟🎀 !!

pile one - The Tower, knight of cups

⋆｡˚୨୧˚｡⋆

pile one your fs views your presence in their life as a huge shift in a good way you came into their life and just flipped everything around. you take up lots of space in their mind pile 1 you’re like all they think about. they think about how much you’ve changed them for the better. you opened opened up a whole new chapter for them a whole new perspective they’ve never seen before. they think of you as an inspiration in their life because you’re determined and have so much drive. they truly view you as their biggest muse. they think of you as impulsive and adventurous to them you’re so compassionate and caring they also think about all the adventures they want to take you on.

⋆｡˚୨୧˚｡⋆extra ⋆｡˚୨୧˚｡⋆

new start, abrupt change, chaos, energy, impulsive, charming , hero , warm,

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

pile two - queen of pentacles, justice

⋆｡˚୨୧˚｡⋆

the way your FS thinks about you is about how well the both of you fit together like puzzle pieces or magnets made to be together. they think about how they finally found their perfect match. they think about how easy it is to be with you how you make life seem so much better like food taste better and color are brighter and songs sound better. they think about how this is the first relationship we’re someone has taken so much care about getting to know them for who they really are they think about what a genuine person they are and how they feel completely safe with you around 🥹💗. they also think about how freaking gorgeous you are pile 2 they seriously can’t believe such a god/goddess they can’t believe what other worldly beauty you have. your fs thinks about how you feel like a blessing in their life like you are some sort of reward for all the shit things they’ve ever gone through. i’m also seeing them thinking about how they can impress you they always want to keep your attention they know you’re a prize and they want you to always be theirs.

⋆｡˚୨୧˚｡⋆ extra ⋆｡˚୨୧˚｡⋆

abundance, rocker aesthetic, good luck, charm, creativity, green, romance, honesty, money, wealth, practical skills, prosperity, balance, equality, fairness,

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

pile three - ace of wands, queen of cups

⋆｡˚୨୧˚｡⋆

your spouse is very possessive in a cute way tho they definitely think of you as theirs: their prize , their love , their life. they know you aren’t a piece of property they just see you as their most precious thing in their life rn. pile 3 your FS thinks about starting a family and having a house full of kids that our part both of you. pile 3 your FS thinks of you as someone who is smart and wise. they also think of you as soft and femme even if you aren’t a female they still think of you as a soft person who deserves the best things only. you might be younger than your FS pile 3 but they see you as super mature no matter what age you are they feel like they teach you and guide you through life but you also teach them so much. they think about how in touch you are with your feelings and how good you are at expressing yourself they love how sensitive you are with your feelings and those around you they think of you as a nurturing and loving light in their life.

⋆｡˚୨୧˚｡⋆ extra ⋆｡˚୨୧˚｡⋆

golden, new beginnings, intuitive, pink flowers, wise , model , swan 🦢, lake , natural beauty, feminine, motherly

───────── ౨ৎ ────

#black tarot readers #pick a card tarot #daily tarot #pick a pile #tarot cards #tarot #tarotblr #tarotcommunity #tarot daily #future spouse

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sunshinesteviee · 1 year

Text

call it what you want - s.h.

summary: you find yourself on the edge of friendship and something more with steve at a halloween party. for @sparklingsin's spookinktober writing challenge with the prompt "quick, switch costumes with me!" wc: 8.1k wtf warnings: friends to lovers. alcohol consumption. smut!!! 18+!!! f!reader. a/n: this is the longest thing i've ever written and it killed me lol i hope y'all like it. feedback is much appreciated! love u sm. also huge shoutout to @sparklingsin and @familyvideostevie for reading this and helping me out and listening to me complain about this gd fic for weeks i love u so much thanks for putting up w me

Masterlist

Parties weren’t Steve’s thing. Not anymore, anyway. And Halloween parties in particular were definitely crossed off the list, especially after everything that had happened with Nancy a few years ago. He was over Nancy, they were even friends now, but something about the idea of going to another Halloween party stirred up a sick feeling in Steve’s stomach that he wanted to run from. Somehow, though, Robin had managed to convince him that it would be fun.

Really, it hadn’t taken much convincing on Robin’s part — all she had to do was mention you, and Steve was in, though he’d never admit that to her. It was stupid, she thought, the way the two of you were constantly pining for each other, but refusing to do anything about it. She’d heard enough lovesick complaints from her best friends, and decided she’d take it into her own hands. And Halloween seemed like the perfect opportunity. She wasn’t quite sure how yet, but she was sure the night would end at the very least with confessions. She’d make sure of it.

And so, Steve was two drinks deep in a crowded house, filled with more regret than beer. Robin had somehow disappeared after one drink, Eddie was nowhere in sight, and he still had yet to see you. Maybe you’d decided not to come. If so, the whole night would be a waste. He hadn’t missed parties one bit. The stuffy, crowded rooms filled with sweaty bodies pressed against each other as music pounded in his ears, pulsing lights making his head throb.

It didn’t used to be so bad. He used to be the keg king, down shot after shot, maybe get lucky, and still wake up the next day more or less fine. Now, two drinks usually did him in, and he didn’t always like the feeling of being drunk. Of being out of control. To be fair, he’d taken quite a few beatings that had definitely fucked with his head since he’d last been to a proper party. But parties just weren’t enjoyable anymore. Especially when all of his friends had disappeared, and he didn’t know anyone surrounding him.

Tipping the last of his drink into his mouth, Steve crushed the red plastic cup in his hand and tossed it into the trash can nearby that was already almost overflowing. A familiar laugh sounded behind him, a sweet sound above the loud bass, “Whoa there, champ. How many drinks have you had?!”

Steve already had a smile on his face as he turned around, and his jaw nearly hit the floor at the sight of you. You hadn’t ditched. And better yet, you looked fucking gorgeous. He let out an adoring laugh, eyebrows furrowing together, forehead wrinkling as he asked, “Champ?”

“Your costume, silly,” you nodded towards his outfit as you reached out, placing your warm palm against his bicep. Without thinking, Steve leaned into your touch, stepping in closer to you, his hand grazing your hip slightly.

Since it had been a last-minute decision, and since he wasn’t fond of Halloween anyways, Steve had decided to pull his baseball uniform from high school out of his closet. It fit a little tighter than it used to, but would work well enough for one night. The ugly green and orange baseball jersey was tucked into a pair of baseball pants, and he’d even tucked his wild hair underneath a Hawkins high baseball hat. Steve’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment, the soft pink obvious on his pale skin, even in the dim lighting of the house. “Oh, right. Yeah, I think I kinda… knocked it out of the park with this one.”

The snort that left your mouth had Steve smiling again as you clapped a hand over your mouth, “Oh my god. That was fucking awful, Steve. It does look good, though. Can’t believe you’d ruin all of your pretty hair under that hat.”

Steve flushed again, a common occurrence that he couldn’t help when he was around you, and shrugged, “What can I say? I’m dedicated to the costume. I like your costume, too, by the way; you look nice.”

Your eyes lit up at his compliment as you bounced on the balls of your feet nervously, “Yeah? Thanks, Stevie.” You were wearing a short shirt that had “Camp Crystal Lake” printed across the chest, with a picture of a lake underneath it, and a pair of red shorts that were also nearly too short; you were a counselor from one of your favorite horror movies, Friday the 13th. Quite frankly, the costume fit you perfectly, accentuating all of your best features, and you weren’t oblivious to the way his eyes had caught on you when he’d first turned around.

“Yeah! That’s a great movie.”

“I thought you didn’t like horror movies?” you questioned, a teasing tone lacing your words. You and Eddie had had to convince him more than once to watch a horror movie on one of your movie nights, and he usually hid underneath a blanket for more than half the movie.

“Well, no,” Steve huffed, crossing his arms over his chest as he narrowed his eyes at you, “But I’ve seen that one, and it wasn’t bad. Do you want a drink?"

When you quickly agreed, Steve’s hand left your back as he pulled back from you. Before you could mourn the warmth of his hand on your skin, though, his hand was reaching toward yours. “C’mon then, babe.”

Without a second thought, your hand slipped into his, fingers slotting together easily. Steve started pulling you through the crowd, weaving between bodies skillfully. The grip he had on your hand, though gentle, was firm, as if you’d be lost forever if he let go. As if the crowds of people would swallow you whole and carry you away from him. He glanced back a few times to make sure you were alright, flashing you a small smile every single time his eyes caught yours.

The alcohol was finally starting to hit Steve, making him feel a bit lighter, though maybe it was just from being near you. Your hand in his was enough to make him feel tipsy. To have him questioning if it was real. He definitely didn’t need to have another drink, not if you were going to be holding his hand like your life depended on it. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence, to be close to you, but the alcohol had his senses dialed up. Steve knew that if he wasn’t careful, he might let his real feelings for you slip, and he didn’t want to risk the friendship you had.

Steve shook his head in an attempt to clear it, though the alcohol was making it a bit difficult, and refocused back on you. He gave you a lopsided smile, working to untangle his fingers from yours, “Whaddya want, cutie? Punch? I had two cups and it’s kinda strong because I’m definitely starting to feel it, and—”

“I’ll have punch!” You’d listen to him ramble for hours, but the kitchen was even more packed than the room you’d just been in. You didn’t see Steve drunk, or even tipsy, often, and you adored the way his face flushed red and he started rambling. He’d clearly had just enough to have him feeling good, not enough to tip him over the edge, and it was endearing the way he seemed to let go a little bit.

Not wanting to be away from your side for too long, Steve hurried across the kitchen to get a cup and fill it with punch for you. He pushed by a few people on his way back, trying to be gentler than the asshole who had pushed you, and frowned as some of the drink spilled over the edge of the cup and ran down his fingers. The pout was still on his lips as he approached you, holding the cup out, “Sorry, didn’t mean to spill it. Here you go, babe.”

Taking the cup from him carefully, you smiled gratefully, glad that you hadn’t been the one to cross the kitchen, “Thanks, Stevie. You didn’t get one for yourself?”

“Nah, if I have more I’ll be suffering tomorrow,” he replied. As he talked, Steve lifted his hand that was now covered in the sticky punch, and slipped one of his fingers into his mouth to clean it off. Heat rushed to your cheeks and you stared in disbelief as Steve did it again with another finger. This time, he caught the look on your face and his own eyes went wide as he stared at you in confusion, completely oblivious, “What?”

You nearly choked on your drink, and you quickly shook your head, turning away from Steve so he wouldn’t see the reaction you were having. There was no doubt you were attracted to Steve — how could you not be? He was kind and funny and brave, and treated you better than anyone else ever had. The problem was, he wasn’t your boyfriend, and you were fairly certain he had no intention of that. He was a nice guy to everyone. Just because he called you babe or cutie from time to time, and held your hand or shared blankets with you… that didn’t mean he was interested, and you’d done your best to shove those feelings down. You didn’t want to lose Steve’s friendship above all else, so if you had to pretend your feelings for him were strictly platonic, you could do that. But watching him lick his fingers clean sparked something in your stomach, and made your face feel hot. To be fair, you had already downed a shot with Nancy while the two of you were getting ready, so maybe you could just blame the way your thighs clenched on the alcohol.

Instead of responding, you downed half the cup of punch just in time for Steve to look back at you, a grin breaking out on his face as he chanted teasingly, “Chug, chug, chug!”

You nearly choked again, this time as you laughed, sputtering some of the red liquid out of your mouth, “Steve!” You wiped the back of your hand across your mouth to catch the drops sliding down your chin with a giggle, “Stop itttt.”

“Hey!” Steve’s pout matched yours, eyes narrowing at you, bottom lip pushing out, “How come you can tease me when I’m drinking but I can’t tease you?”

Your eyes may have lingered too long on Steve’s lips as he pouted, but he didn’t notice with the way he was unabashedly returning the favor as your tongue darted out to catch the last of the punch that had spilled past your lips. You wondered what his lips would feel like against yours. If they were as soft as they looked. If he was as good a kisser as the girls from high school claimed. You shook your head, desperately trying to focus so you could answer Steve’s question instead of gawk at him, “No, it’s not allowed.”

Steve laughed hysterically as his arms wrapped over your shoulders so he could pull you into him. He got even more affectionate than normal when he’d had some alcohol. Pressing his lips to your hair, he shook his head, but was totally sincere as he replied, “Okay, fine! I’ll never make fun of you again, cutie. Promise. Should we find Robin? Or maybe Nancy and Jonathan?”

His words had you feeling like you were on fire once more, but you quickly agreed, needing to find someone else to get your mind off of Steve. To think of something other than SteveSteveSteveSteve. Your cheek pressed into the rough fabric of the jersey he was wearing, and you nodded against his chest, “Yeah, let’s go find them.”

“Wait,” he paused, fingers wrapping around your arm as you tried to pull away from his grasp, “you still have…” His sentence trailed off as he licked the pad of his thumb before placing his free hand against your cheek, fingers slipping into the hair just behind your ear. His thumb pressed to your chin, rubbing across your skin carefully in an attempt to get rid of the last of the punch that you’d spilled. Steve’s hand slid down, fingers hooking underneath your chin as his thumb dragged down, pulling on your bottom lip slightly, and you thought for a moment that he was going to kiss you then and there, his eyes flashing with something you hadn’t seen in them before. But as quickly as it came, it disappeared, and Steve was back to his tipsy, bubbly self, “Got it!”

You felt absolutely breathless, frozen in place as Steve pulled away searching the crowd for anyone he recognized. “You coming or what, babe?”

“I, uh–” you shook your head to clear it and moved towards Steve, “Yeah, ‘m coming.”

Finding Robin seemed to be a lost cause, but Nancy and Jonathan had been easy to find, talking to some of Nancy’s friends from high school, drinks in hand. And after talking for a bit, it didn’t take much to pull your friends away to dance with you. You immediately grabbed Steve, feeling bolder than you normally would be, and pulled him into you, chest to chest.

Steve’s heart thudded in his chest as his hands grabbed at your hips at the same time, fingers pressing lightly into the soft skin there as you swayed to the music. Had he been sober and more aware of what he was really doing, he probably would’ve been much more flustered with the way you were pressed up against him. And, had he been sober, he would’ve seen the look Nancy and Jonathan were exchanging knowingly, with Nancy in on Robin’s plan.

–

Robin found you a bit later, the sound of your name being called over the music was enough to get your attention, and you quickly stopped dancing next to Nancy to search the crowd of people surrounding you. It wasn’t hard to find Robin, who was already pretty tall and was wearing heels for her costume. You grinned at her, throwing your arms out to her for a hug as you shrieked her name, “Robin!”

“Hey, hot stuff!” she replied, wrapping you up in her arms, careful of the drink in her hand, “Where have you beeeen? I’ve been looking for you everywhere!”

You scoffed, “Stevie and I have been dancing. Thought maybe you weren’t here,” you said, pushing your bottom lip out into a pout.

“I am! I have been the whole time!” she laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world, “I’m glad I found you! We’re gonna play a game!” She paused and turned to point at Steve who had been watching the two of you, “You too, dingus! You’re gonna play, too.”

“What? No, Robin, I don’t—”

“Please, Stevie?” you asked, cutting him off with wide, pleading eyes, even though you had no idea what the game actually was, or who you’d be playing with.

The alcohol Steve had consumed was now starting to wear off, while it seemed like it was in full swing for you. Had Robin shown up half an hour ago while he was still feeling tipsy, and was actually dancing with you, he would’ve agreed no problem. Now, as he started to think a bit more clearly, he knew that Robin’s drunk ideas usually weren’t her best, and at the very least, he’d make sure you all didn’t get into too much trouble. And, as always, he couldn’t say no to the look you were giving him. “Okay, okay, fine! I’ll play.”

Reaching out to close the distance between the two of you, your fingers curled around Steve’s bicep to pull him closer. You were giving him the brightest smile he’d ever seen as you leaned into his side, “Yay! C’mon, Harrington.”

The smile that pulled at Steve’s lips was involuntary as your hand pushed down his arm and into his own hand, tugging him behind you as you followed Robin through the house, back to the other side where she’d been beforehand with a few other friends. They weren’t really people you knew – mostly Robin’s friends from band, and Eddie and a few of his friends – but you weren’t going to let that stop you from having fun.

“Okay!” Robin clapped her hands, drawing the attention of the small group, “Everyone stand up, get in a circle. We’re playing a new game!”

“What game is it?” Eddie grumbled, ever the contrarian, though he was getting to his feet to do as Robin said.

Steve had also reluctantly joined the circle, standing at one of Robin’s sides, arms crossed over his chest as he waited impatiently for her to explain what was going on. You couldn’t help but giggle at his sullen expression as you glanced at him from the other side of your friend standing between the two of you. Your laugh caught his attention, and he cracked a smile as he glanced over Robin to look at you, eyebrows furrowing together as if he was asking “What’s so funny?”

You shook your head, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth with a smile as you quickly glanced away, trying to focus on what Robin was saying. Only after you’d listen to half of the “rules” did you realize that this was some kind of speed costume changing game, and you groaned, feeling a bit too tipsy for trying to change quickly. Not only that, but this felt like a game that some boy in high school had come up with in hopes to see the girl he liked half naked.

“On the count of three, find someone that you want to change costumes with, and then we’ll time everyone! One… two… three!”

You’d been counting on switching with Robin, considering she was right next to you, and you could probably get into at least some of her clothes. Steve had a similar idea – who else was he going to switch with when he’d already shared clothes with her before? – and turned in her direction. Robin, on the other hand, had a different idea, pointing aggressively at Nancy who was across the circle from her, “Nance! You’re my partner!” She quickly stepped out from between you and Steve and darted over to Nancy without letting her respond.

At the same time, both you and Steve groaned in frustration, “Robin!” She all but cackled, an evil grin on her face that you knew meant this had been her plan all along. You’d told her about your feelings for Steve, but you never expected her to use that information against you.

Still, you turned to Steve with a grin, hooking your arm through his to pull him closer to you, “Guess you’re my partner, Harrington! No backing out now!”

As soon as he realized that partners were being shoved in one of the closets one at a time to change as fast as possible, Steve wished desperately that he could back out. His face burned at just the thought of being in a confined space with you while you took off your clothes. He didn’t have long to think about it, though, as after two other pairs were timed, Robin quickly pushed the two of you in, closing the door behind you and plunging you into complete darkness, except for the small sliver from under the door.

You and Steve weren’t strangers to being close to one another, but this felt like a new level of intimacy, and Steve didn’t know what to do. His heart was pounding in his ears, so loud he was worried you’d be able to hear it, too, considering how close you were. It didn’t seem to affect you as much, though maybe that was just the alcohol, and you giggled with an urgent whisper, “Quick! Switch costumes with me, Steve! I don’t wanna lose!” With that, you pulled your shirt over your head, nearly elbowing Steve in the face with how fast you were moving. Steve immediately averted his eyes to the dark ceiling, wanting to be a gentleman, though he’d be lying if he said he’d never thought about you shirtless.

Frustrated with how slow he was moving, you gave his shoulder a weak push, “C’mon, Stevie!”

Steve huffed, amused with how badly you wanted to win, even though he knew it wasn’t going to happen, “Okay, I’m going!” He started unbuttoning the baseball jersey as fast as he could as you started to shove your shorts down your legs, and suddenly his buttons became a lot more interesting, fingers fumbling with the small pieces of plastic. The closet felt scorching hot as he shrugged off the jersey and quickly pulled the plain white tee he was wearing underneath off as well, shoving it in your direction. “Jesus, babe. Here.”

The shirt you’d been wearing had been quickly dropped to the floor as you pulled Steve’s shirt over your head, immediately engulfed in his scent. He always smelled nice, and this shirt was no exception. As much as you wanted to hug yourself and breathe in Steve’s comforting scent, you also wanted to win, and slipped the jersey on, motioning for Steve to take his pants off next. Your voice was frantic when you spoke again, “Pants! Give ‘em to me!”

The giggling from his friends outside the door was distracting to Steve as he thought of ways he could get back at Robin for this. It was torture, really, being shoved into a small space with the girl he liked while they undressed, but in a situation where he couldn’t touch her without seeming like a perv. He was only snapped out of his thoughts when your hands reached out towards his waist, going for the button on his pants. There was no way he could let that happen, and pushed your hands away, all but shouting, “I got it!”

He quickly shimmied out of his pants and traded them with you for the tiny shorts you’d been wearing. Groaning internally, Steve pulled them up his legs and knew immediately that he looked ridiculous. They barely fit over his thighs, and his ass was nearly hanging out. It was bordering on completely inappropriate to be wearing in public; he might as well just be wearing his boxers with how little it left to the imagination. “These do not fit.”

Just then, you stumbled forward as you tried to get Steve’s baseball pants on, hand catching on his chest for the second time that evening. His hand shot out as if on instinct, grasping at the bare skin of your hip to steady you, even though there wasn’t really any place for you to go. You were giggling like a maniac, breathless as you murmured a thanks and pulled the pants up all the way. It was only as you buttoned the pants that you realized your shirt had dropped on the ground, and you grabbed it, shoving it into his hands, failing at your horrible attempt to avoid looking at his bare chest, “Last one!”

Steve stared at the fabric in his hands skeptically; the shirt was already short on you, there was no way this wasn’t going to be the most extreme crop top anyone had ever seen on him, “I don’t wanna rip it!”

“You won’t!” you reassured him, “‘s okay if you do, anyway. ‘M never gonna wear it again.”

Letting out what was possibly the most dramatic sigh you’d ever heard, Steve pulled your shirt over his head. The fabric stretched around his arms and chest, the hem falling just below his pecs. His entire stomach was exposed, and while it wasn’t exactly what he’d prepared for that night, the smile on your face in the dark made it worth it.

As your hand reached for the doorknob, Steve realized you were missing one last piece of his costume, “Wait! Can't forget this.” He lifted his hat off of his head and placed it on yours carefully, running his hand through his hair, “Okay, we’re good.”

Your heart fluttered in your chest as he placed his hat on your head, and you nearly dropped everything to kiss him then and there, but the sound of someone laughing outside the door caught your attention. You gave Steve a grin and then pushed the door open, nearly falling over yourself as you shouted, “We’re done! Did we win?!”

Steve’s hand was at your hip again to steady you as he followed you out. He finally felt like he could breathe again. The whole thing couldn’t have taken more than a few minutes, but it felt like he’d spent a lifetime in the closet with you. So close, but so far.

So wrapped up in his own thoughts, Steve missed everything you and Robin were discussing, until there was a loud wolf whistle from someone else in the group, “Damn, Harrington! Who knew you had all that ass!”

Without even glancing in the direction of the noise, Steve knew who it was. He flipped his middle finger up but grinned at his friend, “Fuck off, Munson!”

You let out a laugh as you turned to Steve to say something, but you felt like all of the air had been sucked out of your lungs when you finally properly saw Steve. It’d been too dark in the closet to really see what your clothes looked like on Steve, so you were surprised to see how little of your costume actually covered him. His biceps, stomach, and legs were on full display, and somehow, it still wasn’t enough. Your eyes caught on his arms, the small moles and freckles that covered his stomach, and then, the trail of dark hair that disappeared into the waistband of the much-too-short shorts.

Robin, who was standing next to you, nudged your shoulder, a smirk evident on her face. Her plan was working. You were short-circuiting. Even though your head was feeling less fuzzy due to the alcohol, you might as well have been drunk on Steve. You watched for a few seconds as he found space on the couch to sit down, his cheeks flushed a light pink, and then turned to your friend.

“Robin!” you hissed her name, grabbing at her elbow to pull her closer to you. You gave her the most menacing glare you could muster, but before you could say anything else, she let out a low giggle.

She looked quite pleased with herself, leaning in and whispering loudly, “Did anything happen in there?”

“No! How would that even be possible?” you asked, laughing a little yourself at her ridiculousness.

“Dunno, but a girl’s gotta try. Still have the rest of the night to make something happen.”

As much as you didn’t want to give in to Robin’s hand, you were starting to realize that if she was trying this hard to get something to happen between you and Steve, it probably meant that Steve felt something for you too. You narrowed your eyes at her and then huffed, all but stomping away in search of Steve. If something was going to happen, it had to happen before you lost the confidence.

He was still sitting on the couch, chatting with Eddie, but quickly looked up as you walked over, eyebrows furrowed in concern at your seriousness, “Are you okay?”

“Will you come with me?” you asked instead of answering his question, holding your hand out to him.

“Yeah, of course,” he replied, still confused, but took your hand in his and stood up, allowing you to lead him away. You weaved in and out of people, trudging up the stairs to find a quieter place to talk.

When you finally found an empty bathroom, you flicked on the lights and pulled Steve inside, shutting and locking the door behind you so no one would bother you. The music from downstairs had quieted to a dull thud and suddenly the idea of confessing your feelings felt much more daunting in the harsh light of the bathroom. You quickly turned away from Steve to try to take a deep breath, wringing your hands. Steve watched in concern, reaching a hand out to rest on your forearm gently, “Hey, what’s going on? Are you okay? Did something happen?”

You were just going to have to go for it. Turning around quickly to face him again, you started rambling, “I don’t really know how to say this, so I think I just have to jump into the fucking deep end and say it. Especially since Robin’s getting on my nerves with all of the scheming and smug smiles, which I’m sure you’ve noticed, but if I’m reading this wrong, I’m really sorry, we can just pretend it never happened, and–”

“Say what, babe?” Steve interrupted, shaking his head which caused his hair to bounce slightly, “You’re worrying me.”

“I really like you, Steve. A lot.”

It was silent for a moment, and you couldn’t tell what Steve was thinking with the way he was staring at you so intently, nearly scrutinizing. Your heart began pounding in your chest, worried that you had read the entire situation wrong. His arms crossed over his chest and he let out a soft sigh, “You’re drunk.”

“I’m not!” you insisted quickly, shaking your head vehemently, “Maybe the tiniest bit tipsy, but mostly sober, I swear. I’m– I’m serious, Steve. I just… I thought maybe Robin had a point? And honestly, you look so fucking good in those shorts, and I–”

You were cut off as Steve surged forward, one hand moving to cup the back of your head, the other grabbing at your hip to pull your body into his. Before you could process what was happening, Steve’s lips were on yours and he was kissing you desperately. Your hands struggled to find purchase as they landed on his shoulders and you kissed him back, hardly able to believe that this was actually happening. That you were kissing Steve. But just as soon as you’d started to wrap your head around it, Steve pulled back, eyes wide, chest heaving.

“You don’t…” he stopped himself and shook his head as he looked down at the floor for a moment before looking up to you, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that. How long I’ve liked you.” His hand that had grabbed at your side flattened as he smoothed over the fabric of the baseball pants, his gaze dropping down to the floor again bashfully.

“Are you drunk?” you asked in disbelief.

Steve laughed, a soft and amused sound, as he shook his head and repeated your earlier sentiment, “No. Just barely tipsy, almost completely sober. I feel sober now.”

The kiss had sobered you up, too. Your hands slid down from his shoulders, palms resting flat against his chest as you tilted your head up so you could see him clearly. You could count each individual eyelash if you wanted. Count each and every freckle on his face. But all you really wanted was to kiss him.

Your lips met his again as you pushed your chin up, fingers curling into the fabric of the shirt as Steve sighed into your mouth. Both of his hands dropped to your waist, pressing against your body gently until the small of your back bumped into the counter behind you. He squeezed your waist again as he murmured against your lips, “Up.”

You jumped just enough as he helped to lift you onto the counter. His palms grasped at your thighs, fingers digging into the softness there as he stepped into the space between your legs. Once his lips were back on yours, his hands dropped down to your ass and pulled you forward on the counter easily. The feeling made you gasp; your shorts on him left little to the imagination with how you were pressed against him, “Steve.” Your own hands slid down from where they were resting against his chest and pushed against the soft lines of his abdomen, feeling up towards the tiny shirt on him.

“Mm?” he hummed, distracted by the feeling of your hands on his skin. His lips trailed along your jaw, nipping at your skin softly.

“Want you,” you breathed out, eyes fluttering shut momentarily at the feeling of his lips on your neck.

This caught Steve’s attention and his eyes lit up at your admission, “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nodded quickly, cheeks filling with heat as you recalled the moment earlier in the evening when Steve had licked the spilled punch off of his fingers, “Want… want your fingers.”

“Shit, okay, babe. Just let me…” he trailed off as his fingers hooked into the waistband of the baseball pants. You lifted your hips to help, letting him drag the fabric down your legs and drop them to the floor. Steve’s eyes caught on the wet spot in the center of your underwear and he cursed softly as his hands slid back up your legs, thumbs sliding up the inside of your thighs. A smirk was growing on his lips, “Y’already so wet, baby.”

You let out a soft huff of embarrassment, cheek pressing into your shoulder to ease the burn as you looked up at Steve, “You’re… you just… you look really fucking hot in basically a crop top and short shorts and then you’re kissing me like I’ve never been kissed before, and–”

“Relax, cutie. I got you,” Steve’s eyes softened, the pads of his thumbs rubbing small circles up your inner thigh, inching closer and closer to the hem of your panties. At the same time, the tip of his nose brushed down the length of yours before gently nudging up against yours until he caught your lips with his own.

He kissed you a bit softer than he had before, murmuring as his fingers slipped under the hem of your panties, rubbing back and forth against the delicate skin, “Can I get rid of these?”

Instead of answering, you lifted your hips off of the counter again so Steve could pull the fabric off. It dangled off of your ankle for a moment before falling to the ground to join the pants. Steve’s hands were warm at your knees as he pushed your legs apart, but before he could properly touch you, you grabbed at his wrist, fingers circling around it carefully. He watched you in confusion, about to speak but quickly cut himself off when you finally did what you’d been wanting to do all evening.

You pulled his hand up to your mouth, kissing his palm once before your tongue darted out to circle his middle and ring fingers. Steve’s jaw dropped open slightly, eyes somehow growing even wider as you took his fingers into your mouth, his breath hitching, “Jesus fucking christ, babe, I—” Your hand still wrapped around his wrist gave it a small tug, releasing his fingers from your lips with a small pop. “Fuckin’ hell, baby.”

Steve kissed you like it was his last chance, tugging at your lips and licking into your mouth, distracting you enough to let his hand drift back down to your center. You jolted forward, whining into his mouth as his spit-slick fingers traced up your center until his fingertip nudged into your clit. “Please, Stevie.”

“I got you, baby,” he replied softly, emphasizing his words with another circle over your clit. Then, as if reading your mind, he slipped two fingers into you, drawing quiet moans from the both of you. “Shit, you’re so tight.”

His words had you clenching around his fingers as you leaned back, pressing your palms into the cool countertops beneath you. Finally, he started moving his fingers, thrusting them in and out of your cunt at a slow pace. “Steve, I need— oh, shit— I need more.”

Happy to oblige, Steve picked up the pace a bit, fingertips just grazing the spot that was going to make you see stars. Ever in tune with you and your body, he heard your soft whimper, and saw the way your fingers curled over the edge of the countertop, knuckles white with how tightly you were gripping it. He didn’t really have to ask, but did anyway, a knowing smirk settling over his lips, “Right there?”

“Ri-right there,” you repeated, voice breaking as you nodded frantically and rolled your hips against Steve’s hand. He curled his fingers inside of you and then he doubled down, fingertips repeatedly rubbing against the same spot that had you keening before. And when his thumb pressed to your clit, you nearly fell apart then and there.

“C’mon, baby, know you’re close,” Steve muttered, rubbing his thumb over your clit again and again and again until you were clenching around him and falling over the edge with a loud moan of his name.

Your head fell back, thudding against the mirror on the wall behind you as you gasped for air, knocking Steve’s hat on your head off, chest heaving, “Fuck, Steve, I–” The words died in your throat as your eyes fluttered open, only to find Steve with his fingers halfway to his mouth.

He paused for a moment but quickly took note of the way your breath hitched, eyes wide, and slipped his fingers into his mouth, sucking them clean for the second time that evening. You squirmed against the counter, trying to shuffle off of it as Steve hummed around his fingers and then pulled them from his lips, “Mm, y’taste so good, babe.”

“Holy shit, Stevie,” you gasped as you stumbled off of the counter.

Steve’s hands shot out, grabbing at your hips to steady you, “You okay?”

“More than okay,” you replied, nodding as your hands trailed down Steve’s chest. To prove your point, you leaned up on your toes and pressed your mouth to his. One of your hands curled into the tiny shirt as you kissed him, and the other slid down his chest and abdomen, brushing over the soft hair that disappeared under the waistband of the shorts. You paused, pulling your mouth from Steve’s to look up at him through your eyelashes, “Can I?”

“I— yeah,” Steve nodded hard, hair bouncing with the movement. He looked so pretty — prettier than normal — with his messy hair and wide hazel eyes, lips pink and shiny from your kissing. As he dipped back down to kiss you again, you slid your hand under the waistband of the shorts, but over his boxers. He groaned as you began palming him, and you nearly did as well.

The shorts left very little to the imagination — you knew Steve was big, but feeling him hard in your hand was something completely different. You wanted him, and you weren’t sure you could wait much longer. Your fingers tugged at the shorts and his boxers, discarding them into the pile of your clothes, and you pressed a kiss to his hipbone as you straightened up again, “What… what do you want, Stevie?”

His chest heaved as your hand wrapped around his length, stroking him slowly while you waited for an answer. Steve felt like he couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t function. Not when you were finally, finally touching him. He wanted to do so many things with you, but most of all, he wanted you. “Need to be inside you, baby, fuck.”

Your breath hitched a little at his admission and you nodded quickly, wanting whatever he wanted, “Okay. ‘M yours, Stevie.”

“Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me, baby,” he groaned, fingers sinking into the soft flesh of your hips again to help you back onto the counter and pull you towards the edge. “Do you— um, I don’t have a condom, I—”

“‘S okay,” you shook your head quickly, leaning back into your hands as one of your legs hooked around Steve’s waist and pulled him in closer to you, “‘m on the pill.”

“Are you sure?” he asked softly, eyes searching yours carefully.

“Positive, Steve. I want you. Have for a long time.”

That was enough for Steve, and he shuffled forward, one hand resting against your waist while the other reached down to line himself up at your entrance. You sucked in a sharp breath as Steve pushed in slowly, your hands sliding into his hair at the back of his head. It was more of a stretch than you were used to, and it must have shown on your face because Steve’s hand left your hip and came up to cradle your cheek carefully, lips pressing to the corner of your mouth, “Okay?”

“Mhm,” you breathed out heavily, eyes flicking open to find Steve’s face centimeters from yours. His thumb rubbed soothingly over your cheekbone, back and forth a few times, and you nodded, “More, Steve.”

Steve nodded, pressing another soft kiss to your lips as he pushed forward again slowly, searching your face for any sign that you wanted to stop. And when he found none, he continued until his hips were flush with yours. His jaw clenched, fingers digging into your thigh that was around his waist, and hitched it higher up his side to push a bit deeper. “Tell me when you’re ready,” he murmured, dropping kisses to your shoulder.

Your mind was racing, but with thoughts of only SteveSteveSteveSteve once again. Your senses were flooded with him; the smell of his cologne and sweat, the sound of his heavy breaths in your ear, the taste of his lips on yours, his hands on your body and his cock buried deep inside your cunt. With a gasping breath, you pulled Steve’s chest to yours, your other leg wrapping around his waist. “Ready. ‘M ready. You can move.”

His hands slid under your arms and wrapped around your back to hold you against him as he began to move his hips slowly, “God, baby, you— fuck— you feel so good around me. So good for me, huh? Been wanting you like this forever.”

You rolled your hips into his as you all but sobbed his name, pressing your heels into the small of his back. He took the hint quickly and picked up the pace, the filthy sound of his skin smacking yours filling the small bathroom. Your hands searched over his shoulders and back, slipping underneath the shirt of yours that he was somehow still wearing, nails digging into his skin.

Steve’s chin hooked over your shoulder, and he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror behind you. He looked just as fucked out as he felt; eyes and hair wild as he clung to you. What really got to him, though, was the sight of his last name sprawled across your back. Maybe, just maybe, you’d finally be his after all of this. Heart racing at the sight, he set a punishing pace, “Look so fuckin’ good in my clothes, sweetheart. You’re so… so fucking perfect.”

“Steve— oh fuck— you feel so good. Gonna come soon, ‘m so close—” you were mumbling incoherently into Steve’s neck, trying your best to meet his thrusts, which became harder as one of his hands snaked down between the two of you to rub over your clit. You clenched around him again at the feeling, pulling the best noise you’d ever heard from the back of Steve’s throat. Your moan echoed his, completely oblivious to the fact that you were still at a party and that someone could probably hear you.

“Gonna come for me, my pretty girl?”

My pretty girl. His and only his. It was enough for you to come undone, Steve’s name intertwined with the curses and filthy moans you couldn’t hold back. His thrusts faltered, hips stuttering against yours as he came, your name spilling from his lips in a way you wanted to hear again and again and again.

Your chest heaved against his as you both tried to catch your breaths, and you left soft, open-mouthed kisses to the crook of his neck where you’d buried your face as you’d come. His hands were gentle as they pushed up your thighs and hips, around your back to slip under the shirt of his you were wearing. They were exceptionally warm, tracing over the curve of your spine as he pressed your body into his, voice soft at your ear as he murmured, “Are you okay?”

You let out a soft laugh as you kissed up Steve’s jaw, fingers slipping into the slightly damp hair at the nape of his neck, twisting a strand around your index finger, “‘M perfect, Steve. Are you okay?”

“Fuck,” he laughed, shaking his head in amusement, popping up from your shoulder to look into your eyes, “I’ve never been better. Meant what I said… been wanting you forever.”

“Yeah?” you asked quietly, feeling bashful, like he wasn’t still inside of you.

“Oh yeah,” he nodded, dipping his head down to press a soft peck to your lips. At the same time, his hands moved back down to your hips, holding you tightly as he finally pulled out. You winced slightly at the feeling, causing a soft apology to tumble from Steve’s lips, followed by another soft peck.

It was quiet as you cleaned each other up as best as you could, stealing sweet kisses from the other more often than necessary. The sound of the music had finally come back into focus, and you realized that it wasn’t as loud as you’d remembered. Still, you’d do it all again, even though you weren't sure you could walk, and you knew your friends were going to give you shit for how long the two of you had disappeared.

As you redressed, you finally swapped your clothes back, but just as you were about to give Steve the last piece of his costume — the jersey — he shook his head, cupping your cheek in his hand, tilting your head up, “You wear it. Looks better on you. And besides, need everyone to know you’re mine now.”

You didn’t put up a fight, grinning and shrugging the jersey back over your shirt that Steve had definitely stretched out. Smoothing down your shirt, you held your hands out to your sides slightly, “Good?”

Steve laughed again, reaching out to swipe a thumb under your eye in an attempt to remove some of the mascara that had smudged, “As good as it’s gonna get. And still perfect. Ready?”

Before he could open the door, you grabbed his hat off of the counter and brushed his hair back before placing it on his head, “For the sex hair. Oh, and Steve?”

“Yeah, cutie?”

“Good game!” you giggled, slapping his ass before bolting out of the bathroom, leaving Steve to stare after you for a few moments with the biggest grin on his face.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington imagine #strangertober #best friend!steve #best friend!steve harrington #steve harrington x f!reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #sunshinehollandd #sunshinehollandd writing

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iovmegumi · 1 year

Text

sims 4 crystal legacy challenge

hello! here is a legacy challenge i created while playing the Garden Legacy challenge. i didn’t want to finish on my tenth gen and decided to create my own challenge, based on crystals. this challenge can be continued from a previous save or started in a new one! i also tried to implement base game options for those who don’t own all the packs! some gens do need packs but if you don’t have them, they may be skipped.

if you play this please tag me! or post your sims with #iovmegumi crystal legacy challenge

general rules ❥ you do not have to live on the same lot for all 10 generations if you wish. ❥ mods and cc are allowed! ❥ no money cheats ! ❥ i’ve assigned a colour to each gen so you may play with berry sims if you wish! ❥ i’ve decided that in each generation you may roll for offspring (rolling a dice or using a random number generator to decide how many children) unless stated otherwise in the rules.

gen one - rose quartz (pink)

a stone of unconditional love.

growing up, all you ever wanted was a family. leaving home young to start your life, you work on your career while trying to find the one, dedicated to cultivating the perfect life. you work hard to support your family and love your children so much, opening your heart and home to those in need of families as well. you cherish your partner and frequently find yourself going on date nights.

traits: family-oriented, romantic, perfectionist aspiration: super parent (PH) or big happy family rules:

❥ level 10 cooking ❥ level 5 gourmet cooking ❥ level 10 parenting (PH) ❥ master arts critic career or reach level 10 of painting while freelancing ❥ have four kids, one adopted ❥ marry your soulmate and stay together until death do you part

gen two - orange calcite (orange)

a stone for energy and creativity.

you had everything as a child, lots of siblings and loving parents. you took an interest in your house, specifically the furniture and decided that you’d love to create your own items. when you are old enough you begin learning how to make furniture and take an interest in repairing objects. though you grew such a passion for this, you found that you hadn’t really had time to make friends.

traits: loner, self-assured, maker (EL) or creative aspiration: master maker (EL) or curator rules:

❥ level 10 fabrication (EL) or complete crystal collection or both! ❥level 10 handiness ❥ level 5 gardening ❥ level 10 civil designer career - green technician branch (EL) or live off making creations ❥ have only one friend ❥ marry that friend ❥ complete aspiration ❥ roll for offspring ❥ fill house with furniture or items you’ve made

gen three - moonstone (white)

a symbol of light and hope and also encourages us to embrace new beginnings.

your parents were so focused on the world around you that you began wondering what else was out there. you grew a fascination for space and found the urge to explore outside your planet. you meet some different people, and even find yourself falling in love with one of them. how do you tell your parents that you’re marrying an alien?

traits: genius, family-oriented, clumsy aspiration: nerd brain rules:

❥ level 10 logic ❥ level 10 fitness ❥ level 10 rocket science ❥ level 5 parenting ❥ level 10 astronaut career ❥ complete aspiration ❥ have 4-5 kids ❥ marry an alien (if you have GTW) ❥ build & fully upgrade a rocket ship ❥ travel to sixam

gen four - sodalite (blue)

enhances communication and builds confidence.

having an alien background, you have never felt like you fit in. you dream of having lots of friends and living a normal life. you focus on trying to blend into society and try to be as social as possible, throwing parties and meeting new sims, even seeming to gain some attention on the internet too.

traits: outgoing, unflirty, party animal or bro and loyal aspiration: friend of the world rules:

❥ level 10 charisma ❥ level 7 comedy or mischief ❥ level 7 video gaming ❥ level 10 social media career - internet personality branch (CL) or entertainer - comedy branch ❥ complete aspiration ❥ roll for offspring ❥ throw 5 parties over the course of your life

gen five - pyrite (grey)

used for abundance, confidence & protection.

note: this gen requires Get Famous and may be skipped if you do not own the pack!

having a well-known parent thrust you into the spotlight from a young age and as you grew older, you found yourself loving it, wanting more. you dream of being on the big screen, your face plastered on billboards, your name nominated for awards. you’ll do anything to gain fame, even if it means use others.

traits: ambitious, snob, self-absorbed (GF) aspiration: world famous celebrity rules:

❥ level 10 acting ❥ level 10 piano ❥ level 5 violin ❥ level 5 guitar ❥ level 10 acting career ❥ complete aspiration ❥ become a 5 star celebrity ❥ have two failed marriages ❥ have only one child ❥ have a butler (VG)

gen six - amethyst (purple)

a powerful protective stone.

your parent was obsessed with fame, wanting you to follow in their footsteps. after seeing how little they cared about you, you decided to go in a different direction. your butler was your best friend and basically raised you, talking to you of how they used to love their family garden. you decide a quiet life is suited to you and put all your focus into working on a lovely garden dedicated to your butler.

traits: loves the outdoors, neat, vegetarian aspiration: freelance botanist rules:

❥ level 10 gardening ❥ level 10 cooking ❥ level 6 logic ❥ level 10 gardening career (seasons) or complete basegame plants collection or both ❥ have at least 3 kids ❥ lose one child to death ❥ be best friends with your childhood butler

gen seven - tourmaline (black)

promotes happiness and offers protection, inspires creativity.

losing a sibling was the hardest time of your life, and you found that your family never recovered from this loss. you hear a myth of a book that can bring people back to life and vow to return your sibling back to you and your family.

traits: gloomy, creative, paranoid or erratic aspiration: bestselling author rules:

❥ level 10 writing skill ❥ level 5 photography skill (GTW) ❥ level 10 writing career ❥ complete aspiration ❥ write book of life & bring back deceased sibling ❥ marry a bookworm ❥ roll for offspring ❥ adopt a cat (C&D)

gen eight - bloodstone (red)

for courage & justice, strengthens immune system & family bonds.

your parents had been stressed a lot of their life, working hard to bring your family member back. you were frustrated that they had to go through so much and decided to take it out on others. you grew to despise most people, working on creating enemies rather than friends, feeling a sense of justice for your parent. yet you still made sure to love your children, even if you may have not loved your spouse as much.

traits: mean, noncommittal, bro aspiration: bodybuilder rules:

❥ level 10 programming ❥ level 10 mischief ❥ level 10 criminal career (oracle branch) ❥ roll for offspring ❥ cheat on your spouse once all children are born ❥ get divorced as an adult ❥ get engaged again & leave new spouse at the altar

gen nine - amazonite (green)

a stone of peace, harmony, truth & communication.

the trauma of your parents rough marriage led you to pursue finding harmony and inner peace. you find this through yoga and painting, refusing to get a job so you can keep an eye on your spouse and make sure all your children feel loved.

traits: jealous, erratic, art lover aspiration: painter extraordinaire rules:

❥ level 10 painting ❥ level 10 wellness (SD) or level 10 violin ❥ level 5 knitting (NK) ❥ complete aspiration ❥ never get a job ❥ fill your household with children ❥ always celebrate the holidays (seasons) ❥ go to the spa once a week (SD)

gen ten - citrine (yellow)

attracts wealth, prosperity & success.

note: this gen requires discover university! but i have included a basegame option too!

your whole life has revolved around your siblings. you had nothing that was your own and desperately wanted to remove yourself from them, wanting your own success and your own name. you study and get a degree, priding yourself on your intelligence and work ethic.

traits: hot-headed, materialistic, overachiever or ambitious aspiration: fabulously wealthy rules:

❥ level 10 robotics or level 10 logic & charisma ❥ level 7 programming ❥ level 7 handiness ❥ level 10 engineer career or level 10 business career ❥ complete aspiration ❥ get a university degree (DU) ❥ own a dog & a cat (C&D)

#sims 4 challenge #sims 4 #ts4 #iovmegumi crystal legacy challenge #crystal legacy challenge #legacy #sims 4 legacy challenge #legacy challenge #10 gen legacy #the sims 4 #the sims 4 challenges #sims 4 challenges #basegame legacy #discover university #get famous #sims 4 seasons #berry sims #sims 4 berry challenge #sims 4 berry sims

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writersblg · 7 months

Text

how the cod characters would react to their partner having a hyper-feminine bedroom

It was late at night when you brought your boyfriend/girlfriend back to your place for the first time. Still having a few lights on in your apartment you went around to turn them all off and check if you have closed all the curtains while you told your new partner to make themselves comfortable. So they looked around the rooms - all painted in white with some greenery with timeless emerald green furniture - until they got to your bedroom. Pink. Everything was covered in pink or white. White walls, pink bed sheets, white wardrobe, pink lamps and carpet. Tons of fluffy and big pillows laying across your bed in pink and you expected them to be normal about this?

Simon

Closest he’ll ever be to experience a stroke

Never slept worse in his life

Starts acting like he’s in a haunted house at first

Literally hyper aware suddenly

Genuinely has a hard time adjusting since he feels so out of place

Has to smoke before coming to your place to calm himself down just because of your bedroom

He’s going to end up as your phone background when he snored on your pink bed

Will slowly start to enjoy how soft and sweet the room actually is and how he maybe doesn’t need a gun on the bedside table

TeenLoose Ends!Simon (shameless self promo)

Best place on earth for him 💕

One of the pink pillows is his designated one

Thought it was just because you never cared to rearrange your room since early childhood

Would see if something is positioned differently right away

Would definitely make sure all photos will be deleted with him wrapped up in pink bed sheets

Soap

Giggles

Throws himself on the bed in an instant and is off - you can’t get him to wake up again

Definitely takes up the entire bed

Falls asleep with a plushie in his arms

Will buy a few pink items to drop at his home for you to feel more comfortable at his place

Gaz

Weirded out a little? But never slept better

Will address you with “Hi Barbie” from now on (Hi Ken 💕)

Mentally gets ready for weekly skincare routines together the second he sets foot in the bedroom

He almost once choked on a blanket in your bed in his sleep

He’s so unproblematic I’m gonna die 🫠

Price

Feels like he’s in Disney Land

The age gap just hit him in the face and is now convinced all of gen z has a room like that

Once had to answer a zoom call while being surrounded by pink plushies and he got bullied BADLY by his superiors

Will actually start to find your pink sleeping mask for him really useful and bring it with him when he’s travelling

Alex

“Awh that’s cute”

Doesn’t want to touch anything because it looks so nice to him

Also gets very giddy

Will show up with one of these pink cowboy hats with feathers on your door step

Farah

Stroke; call the ambulance

But will get used to it after some time and will kinda have the chance to rediscover girlhood in a way

Will trigger a Pavlovian reflex after some time and gets super sleepy at the sight of pink

Starts to get cuteness aggressions with you

Valeria

Will tell you that you’re too soft but secretly loves the bedroom; definitely her favourite room in your place

Steals little pink items she thinks you won’t be missing and places them in her place

Will choke someone if something she stole went missing or someone looks at it for too long

Alajandro

Will take a picture and send it to a group chat. Sorry

Will ask so many questions as to why this room looks like that. Not in a judgy way - more genuine curiosity

Will sleep on the edge of the bed because he feels so uncomfortable at first

I hc him regularly drooling on the bed sheets 😭

Rudy

Will actually act normal about it?

You’re waiting for a comment but there’s none

Will casually slip into his PJs and get under the pink covers and fall asleep

I think he has a thing for hyperfeminine partners in general so maybe that’s why 🎀

Keegan

“What the fuck?”

BUT he’ll literally fit in so well 🥹 and get used to it

Absolutely will start calling you “Princess”

Will start buying pink stuff because it reminds him of you; but don’t force him to wear anything pink - he won’t 🥲

I’m going insane over the picture in my head about his Siberian husky eyes and black hair in pink bed sheets

Really don’t want to bother you guys but if you have a few minutes maybe consider signing the petition for inquisitor ❤️ the link should be at the top of my blog

#simon ghost riley #keegan p russ #john soap mactavish #ghost x reader #soap x reader #Keegan x reader #Kyle gaz Garrick #gaz x reader #john price #price x reader #Alex x reader #farah karim #Farah x reader #valeria garza #Valeria x Reader #alejandro vargas #Alejandro x reader #rodolfo rudy parra #Rudy x reader

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shaisuki · 6 months

Note

Hello! I hope you are doing well ^^ Can I request for Sanzu Haruchiyo with a chubby reader where reader wants to try Ab riding but is too shy to tell him about this.

COME ALONG FOR A RIDE

SANZU HARUCHIYO X CHUBBY READER

content warnings ─── slight body insecurities, bonten sanzu, drugs, guns, smut, abs riding.

notes. i'm sorry it took a long for me to finish this. hope you like it. thank you!

ᝰ synopsis .ᐟ you've been thinking about it a lot but never brought it up afraid of what he may think but sanzu is more than pleased to give what you desire.

“i can't give what you need pretty girl if you won't speak.” the scars in the corner of his lips animatedly move as it turned to one of his signature smirk.

his coat hanging into one of the expensive chairs. leaving him only in his usual formal suit. pale violet vest with matching slacks. his thumb and forefinger grasping your jaw to meet his green eyes gleaming with joy although a crazed one to be exact. his long lashes flattering in a elegant manner.

you sat in the bed, embarrassed. desire pooling between your legs as you rubbed your thick thighs together. the tight fitting dress hugging your plush body and considering how tighter it was than the usual and shorter. your little ministrations making the dress ride up exposing more of your skin to be considered immodest as what others may say but sanzu loves it.

after meetings with his executives followed by cleaning out the traitors of bonten, he sure deserves a reward. something to ease and relax him other than what his pills can do. his pretty baby waiting for him all dolled up for him to ruin.

tonight, he knows something is going on with that pretty head of yours. stealing glances from him time to time and the way your throat move from swallowing. he knows about you every minute more than you could ever know. doesn't mean he's not around he doesn't know anything what's going on with you.

you avert your gaze at him. you can't even make the words without looking at him. you want him so bad.

“speak up, doll.” he firmly orders to you and the words forced its way from your mouth.

“c—can i ride your abs for tonight?” you stutter. swallowing thickly and you look at him, afraid. your face felt hot and the tears making it's appearance in your eyelids. you should have never asked.

his grin grew wider from hearing your request. grasping your jaw tighter to look at him fully. his eyes gleams like a maniac, one you've seen often when he's killing traitors or those who dared to get closer to you.

“should've told me sooner, pretty girl.” his scars appearing wider than it already is from smiling.

even with the cool breeze coming from outside in one of the highest floor of the expensive hotel with the overview of city lights. you can't quell the desire growing stronger and hotter. naked in the bed, straddled in sanzu's hard abs. he lays there amused. his pink-colored hair splayed in the soft pillow, a huge grin plastered on his face while he watched you grind on his abs.

“h-haru...” you moaned out. your palms pressed in his chest. back arched while your hips back and forth to get that delicious friction. your clit throbbing every time it brushes with his firm muscles. the smooth skin of his abs adding stimulation that your thighs shakes from every movement.

“that's it, pretty. show me what you can do while you ride me, 'kay? make yourself cum and i'll reward you.” he praises and still have he smirk in his face doesn't disappear while you rode him. your slick drips and trails from the lines of his abs and if it wasn't filthy and hot he doesn't know what is.

your breasts squished between your arms and your tummy folds while it jiggles from the movement of your hips and your breathy moans occupying the space of the room. you face sweaty with a timid look coming from you. all the hard work and the troubles he dealt today disappearing slowly while you used him for pleasure. careful now, he thinks he might get addicted to this but he didn't care about it.

“you cumming for me, baby? s—shit, do it for me baby.” he rasps out, chuckling at your shaky form.

he buries the heel of his feet in the soft duvet. arching his back slightly for you to get the stimulation you needed as you get nearer from your edge. your hips grinding harder and your body jolts. your aching clit hitting the firm muscle. instinctively cupping your breast and rolling your hardened bud to prolong the delicious feeling that spread throughout your body.

“'m going to cum now, haru” you warned him. your hips rutting desperately and faster to his rock hard abs. “that's a good girl, cum for me now, pretty.”

and with a whine, grinding harder making your clit hit that same spot all over again you came in his abs. the clear, sticky liquid of your cum spreads messily to his stomach. you pant, recovering from the high and the strands of your hair sticks to your face.

you look at the man who granted you in indulging your desires for tonight. he looks contented, happy even and you're more than ready to please him whatever he wants for tonight.

“think you can ride me again, pretty?” you nod at his words in which he replied with a smirk. “this time in my cock.”

#♱ ⋮ shai's works⸝⸝#chubby reader #tokyo revengers sanzu #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers #haruchiyo sanzu x reader #sanzu smut #anime x reader #anime smut #anime x chubby reader #anime and manga

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risathefairyofshampoo · 2 months

Text

𝑊ℎ𝑜 ℎ𝑎𝑠 𝑎 𝑐𝑟𝑢𝑠ℎ 𝑜𝑛 𝑦𝑜𝑢?

(Pick a pile) <3

1st Pile 2nd Pile 3rd Pile

4th Pile 5th Pile 6th Pile

Disclaimer: This is just for fun and entertainment purposes. Take everything I say with a grain of salt. Everything I say is not fact, it's just a tarot reading! You may also not resonate with your chosen pile or all of them as these are done for the general! :)

1st 𝑃𝑖𝑙𝑒

Hello everyone, so it seems like someone older has a crush on you. A man. He might be older than you, but he might also be very mature. But I do think that they have a good understanding of life and that they know what they are doing.

He seems to be someone from your work/school. He is well off. He might not dress like someone rich but he definitely is. He isn't bragging about it. He has money and doesn't show it, but he enjoys it

Love, he isn't exactly your type. Seems like he isn't very beautiful. He is normal looking. Not that special, and many people wouldn't notice him. He is kinda like a nerd/weirdo but he does know how to respect people. He is really nice if you get to know him but he isn't very open or talkative at the start.

So, coming to his looks. He has a round face and brown to black hair. It's pretty short at the moment. He is kinda chubby, and I think he tries to cover his belly. He doesn't really have a specific style. He wears whatever is comfortable. Some might have glasses.

I hope you can resonate with the reading! Please give me a feedback. Hope you liked it <3

❝ ❞ ✧ ೃ༄

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2nd 𝑃𝑖𝑙𝑒

Hello people! Okay, your crush seems to be well off. I think they wear some expensive things here and there. They don't brag, but I think it helps with their image. It fits their looks a lot. I think they like to wear jewellery a lot. Rings and earrings, especially.

They have blond to dark blond hair. Very beautiful face. Many would think they are attractive. A model face. Blue or green eyes. Skinny, same hight/taller than you. Plump pink/red lips. Very beautiful. I think they like to wear baggy clothes. Pullovers that are too big but still fit, baggy jeans. Just something comfortable that covers their body. You don't know them well but you've seen them around .

I think currently they are very unhappy. I think some mental strength is missing, and they seem to be very unmotivated. They feel lost and done. Just very tired.

I hope you can resonate with the reading! Please give me a feedback. Hope you liked it <3

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

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3rd 𝑃𝑖𝑙𝑒

Hello there! You seem to know this person. You are kinda close. I think you are currently working on something, and usually, you two work well together, but something has happened that ended in a conflict. I think you are still not very much at good terms.

They seem to be social. Maybe not that extroverted but enough to meet new people. Might be an ambivert.

I think they are really smart. Especially when it comes to math or just logical thinking.

But they aren't really trustworthy. Can get judgy and will talk behind your back.

I think they have brown/black hair, strong eyebrows, a soft face but yet very sharp features. They have a very comfortable style. It's not special but they still look nice. I think they try to keep their outfit simple and easy

They are tall and have a normal/fit body.

I hope you can resonate with the reading! Please give me a feedback. Hope you liked it <3

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.

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4th 𝑃𝑖𝑙𝑒

Hi there! So this person who is interested in you is someone very young. Might be younger than you, but they might also be very unmature.

They seem to be very excited when it comes to life. They want to try everything and make their own experience. Just very curious in general. I have to think of a very new soul. A soul that hasn't reincarnated a lot of times.

I wouldn't say they are very mature. They seem to be very dependent. Might it be their parents or friends. They just seem like someone who can't hold responsibility.

They seem to be very hurt from the inside. I think they experienced some kind of trauma. They haven't really healed. And I think they won't for a long time.

I hope you can resonate with the reading! Please give me a feedback. Hope you liked it <3

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

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5th 𝑃𝑖𝑙𝑒

Hello you! Seems like they person who has currently a crush on you has already been with you. Maybe not a relationship but something in that direction. Maybe just a one night stand? You two were definitely a 'thing'.

They seem to be very unhappy at the moment. They seem to not be that stable. I'd say they are really selfish and ignorant.

However I do think that you two belong together. It's a really strong connection. Some people would say it's a soulmate connection.

I think they are your type, especially when it comes to the looks.

I hope you can resonate with the reading! Please give me a feedback. Hope you liked it <3

✧˖*°࿐

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6th 𝑃𝑖𝑙𝑒

Hello there! The person who has a crush on you is already talking with you. They are flirting with you and making moves. Your connection is something that will be led by the universe. Everything will fall into place.

I think you like them too but you are actually kind of unsure whether they like you or if you really want to be with them.

Seems like a conflict you have with your inner self. Chill! They do like you, and if you're not ready to make a move, then just wait. I think they are really interested and they will invest time if they would have to.

I hope you can resonate with the reading! Please give me a feedback. Hope you liked it <3

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

#pick a pile #kpop tarot #kpop #tarot #kpopidol #music #tarot cards #tarot reading #tarot community #risathefairyofshampoo #kpop gg #hybe labels #aesthetic

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richea · 1 month

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Inomata’s Design Notes & Memories - Destiny Cast

Some notes:

I’ve linked images of each thing she references below.

Unlike the first batch of Eternia characters I previously posted, these were in Japanese. And unlike the Destiny 2 ones I translated, she talks about her experiences with the characters in the game and not just her design processes!

The book in question is this one.

What I think about most when designing characters is their colors and the components to their look. The characters are displayed as such small sprites, so in order to be able to differentiate them from each other, I give each of them a specific color palette and unique accessories to each of their outfits.

Stahn’s thing was his scarf. I also made sure his shoulder pads, gloves, and boots looked huge.

Rutee is supposed to be a thief, so I made her look a bit like a ninja. I didn’t want her to look too girly, so I gave her shorts and exposed her navel. For colors I went with red and black, since that’s a distinctive palette. Whenever I’d do boss battles, she’d always be joyfully picking 2 gald off the ground instead of healing my very low HP characters (laughs). I thought about removing her from my party to prevent this, but then I’d feel bad, and it just made me think “this is all part of her plot” (laughs).

Philia is a priestess through and through. I went for white and green to give her an earthly feel (laughs). Her glasses and braids were a strong request from Namco. I came up with designs for her, but they didn’t have the glasses or braids, so they were repurposed for the priests in Straylize Temple. It was the basis for Philia’s design as well as Elraine’s in the sequel. Philia has her eye on Stahn, but he eats too much and he oversleeps. I feel like they’d work out better if Philia was more the assertive type herself (laughs).

Woodrow is an archetypical handsome man, so I didn’t have much to stress about when designing him. He’s a king, so I wished he had a stronger atmosphere behind him. I almost never used him when playing the game though (laughs). When you break into Dycroft, I thought, “it’d be really cool in a narrative sense to use him here, but he’s just so weak”. But you get special dialogue if you take him along, so I went “tsk” and brought him anyway. “Just stick to the backlines and don’t die” (laughs).

Leon’s really easy to draw, so again I didn’t have much to stress about when drawing him. He has a princely vibe to him, so I gave him white tights, but everyone was taken back by it! I thought, “is it that weird?” and ended up making them less tight fitting (laughs). He acts a bit snobbish, gets seasick easily and refuses to eat vegetables, so he really crosses off a lot on the “young master” list. He’s also really fun to use in battle (laughs). He has a really low defense stat but he hits fast, so it’s crucial that you string your combos together. When paired with Stahn, if you can isolate your bosses in the far side of the screen, they go down quite fast. Then I see the popup that Rutee’s picking gald off the floor again and I just use healing items on him (laughs).

I wanted to make Chelsea cute and small, so I based her image off of little birds. I gave her a palette of pink, green and blue, and made her hair look like a cockatoo or parrot. Her bloomers look like a paper lantern and I find them quite cute (laughs). Her life story makes me want to cry though. She’s fine and all in the first game, but in the sequel, she’s still wearing those bloomers from when she was a kid, living all alone on a snowy mountain. And if you go through her drawers, you can take something that Woodrow gave to her. I felt so bad, I thought “even though it’s so out of the way, I’ll go buy all the items you need!” (laughs). Then she makes all of these bows for you, but by then, I’d already enhanced my weapons a lot… But I felt so bad that I never Refined them and thought, “I’ll keep these on me forever” (laughs).

Johnny’s original idea was “troubadour,” but as the story progressed and I gave him his hat and all sorts of plumes, he came out a bit comical (laughs). He’s a really fun character to have in your party though, and I fell in love with him right away. I love that his tone-deafness does physical damage to the enemies (laughs).

With the Swordians, they have the will of humans and I wanted to incorporate that into their designs, but it didn’t seem to fit so I went for something more inorganic. Berselius alone has a creepy aura to him, and when Destiny 2 came around I thought “But his owner is such a nice person! Is it really okay for him to have such a creepy design?” but then I thought well, maybe Harold just likes things that way (laughs).

#seines translation #tales of destiny #tales of destiny 2 #mutsumi inomata #tales design notes #inomata mutsumi

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sparkle-fiend · 1 year

Text

Fruity Four Advent Calendar, Day 21: “Midwinter Night”

When they come across the tree in Walmart, Eddie practically starts to vibrate with excitement. "We gotta get it, Steve, please. Please, please, please. I need that tree."

They're shopping for decorations for their first ever apartment together, and they do need a tree, but... "Why that one?" It's obviously artificial, 7 ft tall and solid white.

"We never had space for a real tree, so Wayne got a little plastic one that fit on the coffee table. It looked just like this one." Eddie waves his hand at the tree in question, like a magician showing off a trick. "I loved that thing."

Looking at his boyfriend's bright, hopeful face, Steve easily concedes.

They add some ornaments, a string of rainbow-colored lights, and a tinsel star to complete the recreation of Eddie's childhood tree.

Once it’s all set up, they stand back and admire the way the lights shine pink, blue, yellow, and green against the white branches. It does look pretty; plus, Steve’s father would hate it - which adds to the appeal.

(Sometimes the flash of colored light makes his heart race, bringing to mind the memory of a charging demogorgon, or the burst of fireworks against melted flesh in the atrium of Starcourt mall - but Steve ignores it. It'll be fine.)

It is fine... until it's not.

***

Steve comes home, tired and feeling the start of a migraine. He heads through the living room toward the kitchen, intending to grab some water and a Tylenol - when the upstairs neighbor cuts on a vacuum. The muted roar doesn't sound much like a demogorgon, but with the Christmas lights twinkling nearby it's enough to trip something in Steve's weary brain.

He's not in their apartment anymore. He's in the dimly lit hallway of the Byers' house, the smell of gasoline burning in his nose. The lights are flashing, which means the monster is coming - but he doesn't have his bat. He fumbles around the coffee table, searching... it was just here a minute ago, right? His heart is pounding like a drum, pulse rushing loud enough to muffle the voice calling his name.

"Steve? Steve?!"

He can't tell if it's Nancy or Jonathan, but they sound frightened. "Hold on Nance!"

Warm hands grip him by the shoulders. "STEVE!!"

If he doesn't find that bat they're going to die, and it'll be his fault... all his fault...

"Please baby, come back to me. It's okay - you're okay."

It's not Nancy or Jonathan. Not Robin or Dustin or Erica calling his name.

It's Eddie leaning over him, dark curls falling like a curtain over Steve's face. His cheek is smudged, and for a second Steve thinks it's blood. They're back in the Upside Down and Eddie is bleeding out under his hands...

"Steve," Eddie says softly. He's warm and healthy, wounds sealed into scars; and the smudge on his cheek is just sauce.

Because he was in the kitchen cooking dinner. Steve can smell it now, sausage and tomato and garlic.

"Can you tell me what happened?" Eddie asks gently.

Steve tries to explain without mentioning the lights, but Eddie knows him too well. He asks just the right questions to work it all out, and the look of guilt that crosses his face hurts worse than a blow to the head.

Eddie gets up and goes to the tree, yanking the plug from the wall and plunging the room into gloomy darkness. "Ed, you don't have to do that..."

"I do Steve, I absolutely do.”

Steve sighs. It's the night of the winter solstice - the longest, darkest night of the year. It'll be even darker with the tree stripped of lights. "At least wait until tomorrow."

Eddie pauses his task of carefully unwinding the light strands from the tree without disturbing the ornaments. "Come here." He tugs Steve off the floor and maneuvers him onto the sofa.

"Lay down for a minute, okay? I got this." He fetches a cool cloth and a glass of water, along with the Tylenol Steve originally meant to find.

"What about dinner?"

"It's done. I'll just pop it in the fridge, and we can eat when you're feeling better."

Steve wants to protest, but the pain in his temples has escalated to a blinding pitch. He agrees to close his eyes for just a minute - drifting off to the sound of Eddie humming softly in the background.

He wakes to the same sound and assumes that only a few minutes have passed; until he sees the clock. "Two hours? Shit, you shouldn't have let me sleep so long!"

Eddie shrugs. "You needed it. Besides, I had to run an errand."

He leans behind the tree and plugs a cord into the outlet, filling the room with a soft yellow glow. Apparently, Eddie had replaced the lights while he slept. Clear, simple bulbs - no frills or flashing patterns. "Are these okay? Be honest."

Steve nods. It's not as pretty as it was before, but it's comforting; like the lamp he used to keep by his bed.

Eddie reheats dinner and they eat it straight from the pot, so there won't be more dishes to worry over. The plan was to watch a movie, but Steve is still exhausted even after his nap - worn out by the headache and the panic attack; so they just cuddle together in front of the tree.

Curled against Eddie, head resting easy on his boyfriend’s shoulder, Steve says, “I'm sorry about the tree. It doesn't look like the one you had growing up anymore."

Eddie puts an arm around him and squeezes. "I like this better. We're making a new tradition."

#strangerthingsfestivefun #steddie #my art #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve harrington/eddie munson #st fanart #fic drabble #my writing

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shieldedreams · 1 year

Text

i’ll always find (see) you (n.s)

summary ⇾ after a training gone sour, lo’ak knows who to find in order to keep his brother in check. details ⇾ 2,299 words / neteyam sully x na’vi!reader / 🌸 comfort fluff / established relationship / gn!reader notes ⇾ i know i’ve been m.i.a lately but... i’ve been inspired to write for avatar so... here it is! ✨

the flora and fauna that surrounds you is what makes you think this–the mixes of pink, blue and green–must be heaven on earth. the fireflies that float about, sounds of kiri’s fascination as she occasionally lures one or two butterflies over your wandering eyes; the two of you laying side by side on the grass, staring ahead at the cocooning trees.

until a branch snapping cues the two of you to be on alert. you sit up, leaning partially to shield kiri as your hands fetch the dagger slotted by your ankle; kiri baring her fangs with a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it out of instinct.

the both of you visibly relax when–”couldn’t you just announce your presence like any normal being?” you scoff a laugh, putting your dagger away as kiri sighs, shaking her head, hand slipping from your shoulder, “lo’ak, where’s neteyam?”

“i’m here to ask y/n that.”

based on how lo’ak’s eyes lower to the ground, hands behind his back, it makes your heart clench at the implication. he’s gone... again. you glance to kiri, who nods, a silent and understanding of go, it’s okay. i’ll see you later. rising to your feet, you align your gazes with lo’ak, the younger boy offering you a small smile.

“you okay?”

he chuckles, nodding with gratitude; familiar to your warmth and care, “i’m not the one you should be checking up on,” he shakes his head, “not this time, at least.”

“again?” you warm up your ankles and shake your wrists, prepping your body for the way you’d need to climb because–”we can see everything from up here...” your voice comes out in a mere whisper, yet only one can hear you. neteyam circles his arm around your waist, leaning in close as he presses his forehead to the side of your face, “and yet, all i see is you.”–where you’re about to go is a place only you and neteyam know.

somewhere only we know–how foolish. how childish. how... safe and happy you two were at a location that provided you privacy to be whoever you wanted to be. there, you are only known as yourself and neteyam was only known to be neteyam. no labels. no warrior. nothing. just you and him. him and you. together.

“training didn’t go well today, that’s all i can say,” lo’ak mumbles under his breath. before he can get another coherent sentence out, he’s left breathless when you take off past the trees and soon he notices you’re climbing and swinging on the branches.

“be back by dinner!” kiri calls out, well-aware it would reach you despite it looking otherwise.

neteyam feels the wind brushing against his skin; calm, tranquil, the coos of the birds soaring above and the low murmurs of leaves clashing below. normally, his senses would be heightened at the sound of branches creaking but this... here–his safe place–is no ordinary place.

it’s one of the highest points that grants him the view of his home; his people. sometimes... once in a while, that gets suffocating. being the eldest, being the one who’s supposed to fit in the role-model mould... it got suffocating, overwhelming.

one day, you brought him here. past the groans and moaning of how much higher?! he’s grateful this became the place he frequented when things got hard to process; when it got hard to breathe. you were here with him, hand-in-hand, his head on your shoulder, arms hugging your waist; his safe place, his person.

here, he was not neteyam te suli tsyeyk’itan; he was just neteyam... and yours.

“you know,” your voice echoes into his ears, then his eyes are blessed with the sight of you climbing up the last branch to reach the one he’s sitting on, “if i knew this would be the place we’d come often, i would’ve chosen somewhere easier to access...”

“you’re such a baby,” he scoffs a laugh, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand, a quiet sniff entering your ears–he’s not crying.

“you’re the one to talk,” you quip back, just as you take your seat next to him. that gets him to quiet down and you’re half-regretting what you’ve said. “sorry... too soon?” you try to make up for it but he only shakes his head, moving to lean against you with a soft not soon enough...

his body grows towards you automatically. like you’re the source of light and he’s the receiver. taking in as much as he possibly can; for when things get heavy, for when things get dark. all he has to think about is his family and what’s at stake; you, you, you–all of you. his eyes flutter shut and he puts his arms around you, scooting you closer until one of your legs nearly go over his due to how close he’s pulling you.

you sigh and allow him to bury himself in your embrace. his face soon meeting your neck, arms tightening around your frame, tail lightly caressing your lower back out of habit. it reminds him that this is what home feels like; what home was meant to be. past the fighting and defending one’s honour, he was meant to be your lover.

you place a hand on his thigh, now noticing the marks of scratches that are on his skin. it doesn’t make him flinch when your fingers brush over it, but what makes him shudder is the way you turn your body so you can cocoon him in. one arm slithering around his shoulders, pulling him in and he inhales deeply against your pulse; your scent.

“you wanna talk about it?” you pry gently, lips to his temple.

initially, he shakes his head.

but a couple of gentle strokes to the back of his head, he relents. details of how strict his father was, the pressure to please and succeed, the role of the oldest sibling weighs heavy on his shoulders and... well... he may or may not have raised his voice back in retaliation for the first time in months. it was normal, even if he thinks otherwise. for every insecurity or dark thought he has, you’ve always combatted with the opposite he longs to be true (it is, he just stubbornly refuses to admit now).

“what if i’ll never live up to him?” good, you’re not supposed to be a copy of your father. you’re meant to be your own person.

“what if i can’t protect them?” as much as you feel responsible to protect everyone else, you should protect yourself first. that’s what your parents would want before you help others.

“what if i’m a failure?” now you’re just talking a load of nonsense.

then, it always, always end with: “thank you,” he lifts his head up, eyes closed as he leans his forehead against yours. his eyes gently open, the moment seemingly soft, serene, pure but you–”for nearly breaking a muscle climbing up to find you? i think i should start claiming a price to this.”

“you dense baboon,” he hisses. the tone of his voice only makes you laugh. giddily, knowing very well by the sound of his voice, it seems like you’ve breathed life back into his lungs.

“i mean, if you call me a dense baboon, what about you? you’re the one who–and i quote–will never love another–dense baboon.”

he gives up with a sigh, eyes fluttering back shut that it makes you give in. after all, he did have a bad day. might as well let him win.

“ah, okay, okay,” you coo, easing the hand that was once on his thigh, then crawling up on his neck, now reaching his cheek where you cup it tenderly. it beckons him to open his eyes, briefly, before it instinctively closes when he feels your breath over his lips; then, the fleeting moment of your kiss that makes his body tense and relax at the same time.

“just one?” he murmurs, a hand of his now meeting the nape of your neck to keep you there as he leans against you.

“how bad of a day did you have?”

“might need a few more to forget about it,”

“you do know this ends with me dragging you back to your father, right?”

“...then give me all the kisses now.”

maybe it was thirty minutes, maybe an hour, but all neteyam knows is that he’s calm and at ease as he walks along the path back home with you; his hand in yours, step by step mimicking one another. neteyam succumbed to your wishes of heading back, an hour or two before dinner would take place.

neteyam’s lost in the moment, merely following your hand dragging him like a compass.

it’s not until he nearly loses his footing by staring at you instead of where he’s walking. he tightens his hold on your hand, a soft gasp leaving his lips as you tug him up. it happens so fast; so sudden. his other hand now meets your waist for stability as you come face to face with him–so close he can count the lashes lining your eyes, the smile that twirls up on your lips.

“if you wanted another kiss, all you had to do was ask,”

he scoffs with the roll of his eyes but his hands, his body betrays him. it always does. always weak when it comes to you.

you let go of his hand to circle them behind his neck as he lures you towards him. one hand securing you by the hip, the other reaching up to pillow against your cheek as he lightly noses along yours.

“thank you,” he says, in a mere whisper.

“you said that earlier,” you try to joke, only to get ignored when he gazes into your eyes, making whatever thought you had in your mind fade away; replaced with just the one looking back at you. you lean into his touch as his thumb brushes the under of your eye and as cheesy as it sounds, you feel your heart swelling at such tender moment you two were sharing.

“for seeing me,” his voice blends with the gust of wind that envelopes the pair of you. his words, so seemingly simple but it held much more than that. for coming to me whenever you know something is wrong. for loving me; thank you for loving me.

“i’ll always see you,” i’ll always find you; love you.

he cracks a smile, “even when i’m way up too high in the trees?”

“especially then.”

((“i’m sorry, sir,” neteyam has his head lowered, “for how i acted, for the way i behaved. i will do better.”

he swallows, hands locked behind his back as he waits for a response. half-anticipating for a reprimanding, half-afraid of what’s to come. he peeks up at the lack of response, now noticing the soft look in his father’s eyes.

“good,” is all jake says, then motioning him away with the movement of his chin pointing to the side, “dismissed.”

neteyam swallows, as you gape; having stood by his side since the second you’ve dragged him back. neteyam glances to you, then back to his father who remains unmoving.

“d-dad–”

“dismissed,” jake repeats himself, now looking to you with a small nod. you’re able to give a smile, understanding jake’s intentions. he may look stern and he certainly in hell is strict, but he loves his family and it shows. you can see it in the way jake strives to protect those he loves and that comes with a price of being too harsh sometimes. it’s the mutual understanding you have that got jake to warm up just a bit to you (compared to how neytiri awed over the way she noticed her son adoring you).

it was your cue to bow in respect before you wrap your fingers on one of the wrists behind neteyam’s back to tug him away. he doesn’t object, already stumbling to follow you but just as he glances over his shoulder, he could’ve sworn he saw his father crack a smile before he turned his back.

”if i knew getting him to date someone would get him to return quicker, i’d thrown him off the edge earlier,” jake comments, snorting at his own remark as he tidies up the equipment. he lets out a soft augh when he feels a nudge to his head, knowing very well of who it might–”you promised you’d go easier on him.”

“i am!” he sighs, looking up to neytiri who has her hands on her hips, raising a brow, “i’ll... have a chat with him, down by the river later.”

she somehow raises her brow higher and he extends his arm out, pointing right at–”you sure we won’t fall?” neteyam squints his eyes at you, watching as you effortlessly hook your knees over the branch, dangling your body upside down with a grin, “do not tell me that the great warrior neteyam, son of jake sully is afraid?”

neteyam scoffs a laugh and threatens to bite your ankle when he grips onto it, only to yelp when you nudge him forward and he has to rely on his reflexes to follow your lead. when he’s securely hanging next to you, he’s able to smile widely at you, finding your hand on the branch between your bodies. it makes you laugh this time, tail lining up the side of his body as he swirls his along your legs. it was playful, childish... it was happiness.

neytiri’s eyes soften at the sight, a smile crawling to her face. she directs her gaze back to jake, who has this shit-eating-grin on his face.

“get to him before dark. i want a nice, peaceful dinner as a family tonight.”

“roger that.”))

#neteyam x reader #neteyam x y/n #neteyam sully #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam scenarios #neteyam fanfics #avatar #avatar scenarios #avatar the way of water #i got a bunch of drafts.....#mostly shang chi and eggsy unwin #which i'll probbaly brush up to post them up #not sure when though #but avatar though.......#:")

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ruershrimo · 3 months

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take me back (take me with you) | f. megumi x fem! reader | chapter 1: nostalgia

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chapter synopsis:

'“You’re my best friends forever,” you whisper to them. It’s the truth and it’s a promise. The train halts with that chuffing sound all trains produce, and your mother holds the luggage as well as your other hand as you wave to them goodbye.' --- ' It’s very late and I still have so much I want to talk about with you, but I’m really sleepy now. My eyes are barely open and my face is about to fall on the paper, I think. Just know that I'm thinking of the two of you all the time. XX

Love, [Name]

(P.S.: I still have your hair tie. Do you know if I’ll ever be able to give it back?)'

word count: ~5k; tws: none for now

2-4-2015

Dear Fushiguro Tsumiki,

How are you today? I’m so sorry that we haven’t talked in so long.

Forgive me for asking so many questions in this letter— I know too little about writing them; my mother is the one who asked me to write this saying that it would help me keep in touch with my friends or write better (either of the two, I can’t quite remember).

Between an urban area or a rural area, which would you prefer? I’ve had to go all around the place because of my mother and I’m still all the way in Tanegashima now. If you were to go from Tokyo to where I am, you’d have to either go for a drive lasting more than 20 hours or book a three hour flight.

I’ve only stayed in the city once— that was when we were still in the same school, and we could all fit in my aunt’s apartment since my father was outstationed for the whole year. But I digress. Personally I prefer the city. It all feels so modern, and so much less empty than how it’s like here on this little island. I mean, we have the space centre, so I can always visit that, but after the third or fourth time you’d probably get a little bored of it too.

I wish I could go to Tokyo again one day, though. I’d definitely take the time to visit you, too. I read on a pamphlet once of how pretty everything gets in Tokyo during winter time, especially during Christmas. We don’t really celebrate Christmas here but the pamphlet reminded me of that one December when we spent it at my aunt’s, we ate lots of KFC and had a little party while my aunt sang songs and drank enough alcohol to prove she had a liver of steel a million times over.

It’s nice to reminisce on these things, and it’s nice to reminisce on when we were still there too. I know I never told you this enough, but I was so happy when you walked up to me on the playground that day and asked if you wanted to be friends. I really, really liked your hair and wanted to ask you the same. I was just too shy to do it, and thought that if I would I’d end up messing things up and mortifying myself. I miss that and you and I miss 2010 and I miss Tokyo, and walking back from school with you and Megumi (you were like my cool older sister), and I really, really miss doing each other’s hair. It was the most joyful I’d ever been in my then 8 years of life and every day was a new fragment of happiness to keep in my heart like a picture in a locket.

Now I really want to go there again, and maybe go to the Shinjuku-Gyoen, or see the lights at night. I wish I could stay for a whole year and see how the trees can change from being highlighted cherry blossom pinks, to lush greens with summer dew on them, to golden ginkgo leaves. I’d keep them with me, too. I hope you can take me there one day and we can see everything together again. My apologies if I’m asking too much of you.

Also, how is Megumi? I miss him too. Is he the way he was, still? Is everything okay between you and him, still? Unlike elementary school, the boys in junior high are all taller than the girls, so since we’re the same age do you think he’d be taller than me too? Is he taller than you, or are you still one of the tallest girls in junior high like how you were in elementary school?

It’s very late and I still have so much I want to talk about with you, but I’m really sleepy now. My eyes are barely open and my face is about to fall on the paper, I think. Just know that I’m thinking of the two of you all the time. XX

Love, [Name]

(P.S.: I still have your hair tie. Do you know if I’ll ever be able to give it back?)

28-2-2011

The train to the airport is arriving in a minute, and you’re sure your mother won’t let you just wait for the next one, so you’re stuck clutching your little luggage bag as you look at Tsumiki and Megumi, that inseparable pair, and their snowy-haired “benefactor” (whatever that means. You think he’s more like their father sometimes, though).

Even if you knew it was inevitable and that this day would eventually come, especially with your leaving Tokyo being pulled even earlier than you thought it would, a part of you pretended that you’d still get to stay with them for a little while longer. In Tokyo you’d solidified your place and built your roots— you had friends, were doing alright in school and had even begun to be less anxious about everything. Now you’d be uprooted again, you thought as your fists trembled, Now you’d be back to square one.

2011 had started as a busy year— your father had begun preparations to move somewhere else where you and your mother could follow him and the three of you would be together again. It was busy for Tsumiki, too, who had more school matters to tend to due to her being one of the best, most well-rounded students in her year (you didn’t know much of the details).

…it had also begun with you seeing a dog when you were alone with Megumi once. It had these unique markings on its head, with alabaster fur and jaundice-hued eyes. And Megumi then had a panicked look in his eye, asked how and why you could see them as well as whether you’d seen them before, which you suppose caused him to be busier after that, too. Tsumiki and Megumi’s benefactor visited you and your mother the night after, asking to speak with your mother and your mother alone. He paused before you, almost shocked, you supposed, but you couldn’t see through his pitch black sunglasses (he was one weird guy, seriously— pitch black sunglasses? Really?). To which she frowned, as the man uttered that you could be a “window”, but that you could still be able to use “cursed energy”, or something. You’d heard of neither of those, and weren’t able to eavesdrop or discern anything else they’d said.

Then nobody else mentioned the dog anymore.

If you questioned any of them, you’d only be told that the dog was a stray, and that those markings must have been a particularly special birthmark. Yet you knew it was all a lie, but after multiple tries you gave up on wondering.

When you’d first learned you’d be moving yet again, you cried and screamed for your mother to let you stay, and for what felt like hours. After relaying this to Tsumiki, she just put her hand on yours before hugging you— always wise, always kind, always smiling, you can’t say this enough about her. Megumi patted your back before she pulled him in as well, and for once he didn’t shove her hand away. You couldn’t even bother to be confused at that— you just continued to weep as Tsumiki comforted you, whispering, “I can’t promise I’ll always be able to talk to you, but I’ll try my best to keep in touch when I can. And even if we don’t, we’ll always be friends, okay? So we’ll meet again someday, don’t forget that, okay, [Name]?”

A day after that Megumi told you to stay safe. Nearly ordered you to swear you’d stay safe and protected, always. He said that the world was dangerous since it was full of dangerous creatures and people who could kill you at any moment, but as long as you were on an island like the one you were moving to, you’d be fine. You furrowed your brow at that as he held your hand and felt him squeeze it— subconsciously, most likely.

“Well,” Tsumiki starts, a tinge of sadness in her tone, her eyes slightly swollen. Megumi’s expression is unreadable but his fists are balling the fabric of his shirt and his leg is shaking. It makes you want to sob and cling to both of them and you know if you did they wouldn’t ever let go, “I guess this is goodbye, [Name]…”

Before you realise it, tears start pooling in your eyes and soon they’re trickling down your face uncontrollably, just like the day when you’d first met her. “We’ll still be friends, right?” You won’t leave me, right?

“Mhm!” Tsumiki smiles— she was always smiling, always, even when she was about to cry along with you. Her lip was trembling and for a second you swore you could detect that in the ever-stoic Megumi, too. “It’s okay, you don’t have to worry. We’ll be friends forever, so we’ll surely see each other soon enough,” Tsumiki assures you, close to sniffling, “We made a promise to always be friends, right? So you’ll see the two of us again in just a few years’ time no matter what.”

“Okay,” you sniff, “I’ll see the two of you when we’re all grown up, and… and I’ll be taller, too! I promise I’ll visit Tokyo next time!”

“...that’s good,” Megumi says, his leg still shaking discreetly, joining you and Tsumiki’s conversations in a way he’d rarely done.

Tsumiki nods, “Yeah. That sounds really, really good, [Name]. Wait—! Let me give you something. You can call it a gift!”

She takes it off, and her hair unfurls like flowers from bouquets after they’re untied, placing the red-ribbon hair tie securely in your palm.

“Your hair tie?” you ask, “No, it’s okay—!”

“Please, just… just keep it, okay? It’s a gift from Megumi and I to you, [Name]!”

Then you’re in her embrace again as you clutch the hair tie, while after a little hesitation Megumi joins in and you swear you can see their benefactor smiling— not just the smile he had when you first saw him, this one in particular seemed proud, fatherly, the same way your father did when you told him about how you were able to read through a whole book with beginners’ kanji in it.

“You’re my best friends forever,” you whisper to them. It’s the truth and it’s a promise.

The train halts with that chuffing sound all trains produce, and your mother holds the luggage as well as your other hand as you wave to them goodbye.

15-3-2011

The phone continues to vibrate in your hands as you anxiously tap your foot on the ground. You’re sure it’s going to end up sore. Frantically, you press it almost forcefully to your ear when it stops ringing. “Tsumiki, Megumi!”

“[Name]!”

“Are you alright? I saw the footage of the earthquake on the news, are you safe? Were you and Megumi evacuated, are you all safe? Please tell me whether you’re safe—!”

“Megumi, it’s [Name]!— Don’t worry, we’re safe now.”

Relieved, you sigh, “That’s good, that’s good,” you say, “It must’ve been really scary…”

“Mhm— everything started shaking as if we were on some boat in the middle of the sea and the waves started getting wilder, and it was like the ground was rumbling.”

You shiver. “That sounds so scary…— I’m glad you’re safe, though. I don’t know why stuff like that has to happen so quickly sometimes, and so suddenly, too. And it takes so many people along with it. I thought I could’ve lost the two of you.”

“Well, we made a promise,” she tells you, “So don’t worry. —Oh! Megumi wants to talk to you. Here, Megumi.”

“Are you alright?” he inquires, “Have you seen anything scary in the countryside?”

“Huh? Oh, no, I haven’t seen anything. Why?”

“Nothing. Just wanted to know.” Now that sounds like a bold-faced lie.

“Uh-huh, okay.”

-20-5-2011-

“Hello? Is this Tsumiki? I need to ask if she’s alright—”

“Oh, little [Name]?” a man says over the phone— the benefactor, you remember, “So sorry, she’s pretty busy right now… call next time, okay?”

-21-5-2011-

“Hello? This is the Fushiguro house contact, right?”

“Sorry, Tsumiki’s busy at the moment. Me too, actually.”

“Megumi!” you smile, bringing the phone closer to your cheek in excitement, “How is everything?”

“Good, to say the least,” he replies, “We’re just a bit busy. Sorry, but I’ve to hang up soon.”

“Oh, oh-okay! Bye bye, Megumi!”

“Bye.”

-13-7-2011-

“Hi, [Name] speaking. I called twice last month and a few days ago. Are you still busy?”

“A little— well, Tsumiki is,” the voice on the other side says. You know it’s not Tsumiki, not yet at least. “She’s really sorry, [Name].”

“No, no, it’s okay! I don’t want to bother any of you either, so thank you for telling me!”

“Well, if you want I can try to get Tsumiki right now,” the voice offers.

“Really? Thank you so much!”

The pause that ensues after is followed by the fifteen happiest minutes of your life since February this year.

“[Name]? Is that you?”

“Yeah! Hi, Tsumiki!”

She gasps slightly in the way that children do when in awe or when someone finds out they’ll be eating their favourites for lunch. “Hello!”

“How are you?” you ask.

“I’m good! Really busy, though, so I’m really sorry if I can’t call you as often… but everything’s been alright. You?”

“Mm,” you hum, nodding your head even if she can’t see it, “I’m good, too!”

-18-8-2011-

You don’t know when you started heading to the phone and keying in the number, doing everything but ringing it. You’re busy, too— you’ve less time now to ring them up, and the last time you did, Tsumiki still apologised but sounded a little distant, just that one bit too busy to be able to tend to you. One step farther away from you. And Megumi was seldom ever the one by the phone. Still, you could understand why. You supposed they always had something going on that you never understood or never asked about. That would explain the incident with the unusually marked dog. No, they weren’t sketchy, but there was definitely something they must have known about the world that you didn’t.

Now you don’t know if you can even muster the courage to talk to you or write to you. The distance between you has widened exponentially and you hesitate just a bit more every time you hold the phone and press its buttons.

Then the phone rings, and after you hesitate once more, you put it down.

9-2-2016

If there’s one thing you remember from about half of your life ago, it’s that your first crush was probably Fushiguro Megumi.

You’re honestly surprised it wasn’t actually his sister. That over Tsumiki and her abundant compassion and beautiful soul, you’d feel your heart leaping and overflowing with warmth because of him instead. Constantly angry, never for once not irascible, always serious and aloof. You’re sure that if you’d met him now instead of back then you’d find him some asshole who you just wouldn’t be able to understand— why’d he always have to seem so angry?

Yet it was a struggle, trying to understand him. It really was. Maybe you didn’t really have to understand anyone, much less Megumi. He never ceased being so serious and easily angered but you could tell from his eyes that he must have not intended to hurt anyone; half of the time you understood him: like when you could see that glint in your eyes that replaced what would have been a ghost of a smile on his lips, the other half of the time you didn’t: like whenever he shoved Tsumiki’s hand off his shoulder, and Tsumiki just continued to smile. Now, that really confused you. You’d thought about that for days before coming to the conclusion that you’d probably never find an answer.

Conversely, Tsumiki was kind and patient. If you’d met her now you’d have fallen in love with her immediately and she probably wouldn’t even notice in that terribly goodhearted, unknowingly innocent way of hers.

In retrospect it should have been more obvious: he scowled at you and if it were anyone else who did so to you back then you would have merely cried and closed in on yourself, yet you never did when it came to him. You just continued to stick to him like those kind of glue residuals left behind after you take a sticker off a table or a price tag from the back cover of a book. You were probably annoying like that. And to some degree you suppose he’d given you his own form of special treatment by letting you do so anyway.

If you’d known what you were feeling back then you probably wouldn’t have admitted anything, anyway. Probably you would’ve kept it all within you, quiet and unnoticed, trying to drown yourself into life’s backdrop like an insect engulfed in resin.

But you’re older now, more mature and slightly more outspoken; you’re going to try to be confident and meet someone, this one person alone who you can only meet now without his sister there just because you used to have a crush on him and—

You don’t think you’d be able to admit anything either. Yet to yourself he’s the first. He always will be, and you’re not sure whether that sounds pathetic, miserable or disgustingly, hopelessly delusional, considering you don’t even want to pursue anything yourself.

It’s going to be Valentine's Day soon and you’re quite sure that most of your school friends are making Valentine’s chocolates for their boyfriends or their crushes. In all truthfulness, you might as well not feel blue about it— you’re 14, that’s still pretty young, you don’t have to rush things like relationships or confessions through and you’ve been told to focus on your studies instead— but the thought that you’re going to be alone is still kind of depressing.

10-4-2015

Dear [Name],

Don’t apologise— it’s partially my fault. I ended up being really busy that year due to something we had to deal with.

But anyway, it’s been so long! I miss you every day as well!

Megumi and I’ve been great, and I hope you’ve been too. It’s been a long four years since we last talked (it’s already 2015, how time flies!), but you still sound the same. It’s like you’ve got better handwriting now, though!

Aside from the fact that I’ve been swarmed with stuff to do (I joined the student council, yay!), junior high has been okay, to say the least— and hey, I’m still pretty tall, you know? Plus, a lot of the teachers say I’m surprisingly tall for my age, heheh. Things are going the same as always. I’ve got accustomed to the loads of homework we have now too. But it’s like Megumi’s been having a problem lately— he’s getting into fights, beating people up, things like that. I wouldn’t call him a delinquent, though: moreso someone who beats the delinquents up instead. I know what he wants to do and why he does it, but I don’t want him to fight other people and get himself or others hurt.

I’ve tried to tell him this before, to be honest. I’ve tried it many times but each time I must sound more annoying to him than the last— I don’t want to force him to do anything, though, and I understand that part of why he does this is because of his own ideals. I just want him to not raise his hand against others. So I have to resort to this.

Sorry for spilling it all on paper like this… I just wanted someone to talk about this to, and I thought you would listen to me, I suppose. Sometimes it’s hard— sometimes I really do feel like his parent instead of his sister and it makes me feel so lonely, really.

Oh dear, what do I do to make him hear me, seriously…

Anyway, I totally get what you mean— I’ve stayed in Tokyo all my life, but I’m sure that if I was uprooted and had to live somewhere else I’d have lots of trouble. Tokyo to me is my home, and my whole life is here. Moving somewhere else would probably shatter it completely, I think.

And please visit when you can! Maybe if your mother allows it, we can come to us instead, one day! And it’s not like we can’t visit you either. Our door’s always open. Once this school year ends, perhaps we could stay with you for a night or two! (If you would have us, of course).

Besides that, I don’t really have much to say. I did have a good day today, though. I went out with some of my friends from school after our classes ended and we ate some donuts. They were so tasty!!! Honestly, whenever you have the time, I really recommend going there with some of your friends after school!!

Regardless, I think this is all I have to say in this letter. I promise I’ll try my utmost best to always set aside time to write to you!!! Get some good rest whenever you can, okay? Miss you always!

Sincerely,

Tsumiki

(P.S.: Do you have an email or a phone number of your own yet? If so, please shoot me an email or give me a call! I can reply more there since I have those now and can use those instead of always relying on our house contact. You can keep the hair tie, too, by the way! It can be like a memoir (*^▽^*). And it’s for you, after all!)

13-3-2015

You remember seeing a little dog one time back in your hometown when you were around six or seven years old.

It was a tiny little thing, with the fluffiest black fur you’d ever stroked, and though every second it was barking louder than your mother could ever handle, it was adorable and seldom threatened to bite anyone. And it liked you— it never barked at you and let you shower it with pets despite how much it had frightened you initially.

He was irritable but calm, someone who frowned and scolded but never raised his hand against anyone— not even that “benefactor” of his who you’d never heard him talk about without mentioning how much he’d like to punch him someday. You genuinely don’t think he’s ever done so, either. He doesn’t seem like the type: from what you remember, if he were to think he’d hurt someone he knew or evidently cared about— as much as he’d like to deny this, however— he would blame everything on himself, you think. He’d feel the guilt rake through his body and lacerate his skin, piercing through his ribs. Yet he’d keep living, and he wouldn’t tell anyone about it; he’d be so quietly miserable.

That’s what he was like: quietly miserable. There’s a certain sorrow in the way he does things; you could tell this from the start despite how young and inept at articulating yourself you were at that age. But you’d always known and sensed that there was a sadness running through him, coursing through his veins, one that you could feel like heat from the warm blood beneath one’s skin.

Today you wonder if he’s the same, if he still seems like the saddest person you’ve ever met, if he still seems like he would have been the saddest and most doleful had he not always tried to act as if otherwise, living defiantly against it. If he hadn’t always been able to keep living while suffering quietly like a child with nothing but muffled sobs in the desolate corner of an empty classroom.

But at eight you thought maybe you could liken Megumi to a puppy. Or something like that. He certainly reminded you of that all-bark-no-bite puppy from the past. You wondered how it was now, whether it was still being fed and taken care of.

Tsumiki was vastly different, though— the kindest girl you ever knew, with neat, soft hair and the type of handwriting all the girls in her class wanted to have. She was always smiling, always kind— you thought she was immensely wise for a girl around your age; you always wanted to be as amazing of a person as she was: always hardworking, always clever, always kind and forgiving, no matter what.

…you don’t even know why you’re thinking about some kids you met once who you’ll probably never see again. Just two kids who you never kept in touch with. Or at least never tried to. You had their contact— you tried talking to Tsumiki a few times, but for some reason she could only ever reply once or twice (she apologised profusely for not being available any time she picked up as well), and as time passed the way the distance between the two of you grew, by the summer of 2011 you’d begun holding a telephone close to your ear without keying any number in it, as if clinging onto it would provide you with any sort of closure.

You miss them, though: smiley Tsumiki and frowny Megumi.

Leaning back into the mattress, you trace your fingers over the hair tie on your wrist, fingers rubbing against each thread of fabric in its red ribbon.

Could you even talk to them or face them anymore after ceasing contact with them for years, though? Heck, you don’t even know whether they’re alive or not. Would they be angry at you? Disappointed? Feeling as if they’d been wronged or left behind?

Still, you miss them. You really do.

Your mother’s calls bring you downstairs, and you eat until your stomach is full before washing your plate. The only other step in your routine now is to head up and retreat to your room again.

“Come down, [Name], could you?” your mother says, interrupting your trip back up, “I just want to talk to you for a second.”

Now, that… that was a bit strange. Your mother rarely ever asked you to talk to her. You spent enough time with each other as is, doing almost everything else besides being in school or at work in the same house, even if it never meant asking about each others’ day. It just was never part of the conversations you had with each other. You’d ask where she wanted you to throw things or how you could cook something, but she’d never go out of her own way to learn about your own day since you were about nine or ten, and it wasn’t like you ever did either. Perhaps she was trying to make the effort to?

“What is it?”

“You like writing, honey?”

“I mean, I guess so?” you reply hesitantly, “As long as it’s not for school or my grades don’t rely that heavily on a task, writing can be pretty fun.”

“Good, good,” she remarks, nodding her head, “Actually, I recently found something you may be interested in online. You still have your friend and her brother’s house contact, right?” she questioned. Instantly you know which friend she’s referring to and say yes— how could you not, after all? “Ever heard of pen pals, darling?”

Which brings you to where you are now: your mother leaning by the door frame of your room as you’re hunched over the table writing the letter. Surprisingly, she really seemed to care about this, even preparing the prettiest paper you’d ever seen, with pastel pink patterns printed on the paper’s edges, and though you struggled with what to say it first the words have begun spilling out of you despite how late it’s started to get.

You wonder whether she’ll reply. She probably will, though, but a fragile part of yourself surmises that she may not, and although you’d like to talk to her again you fear that because of the time that’s passed things may just not be the same anymore. You wonder if the years have made the three of you infinitely different than your eight and nine year old selves.

But that was growth, right? So you had to grow and learn how to talk to her, learn how to face her without thinking that she’d be angered or frustrated, or anything like that. And even if she did, even if it would hurt you, you’d be able to live. The world would keep spinning and all that would be lost were two friends who you lived without for about four years, ceteris paribus. Who could claim that the seventy or so years after those four would be any different?

That’s why you took the pen and paper and started to write, telling yourself you’d face it and finish the letter no matter what. Even if it was short. Even if it wouldn’t be enough to express four years’ worth of unspoken words, from funny things that had happened in school, or what you thought of whatever was on the news, or how your parents had gotten you a new phone.

As your eyelids gradually grow heavier, you watch how you fill two whole pages in the handwriting you have— you wish it could have been at least a tad bit more similar to Tsumiki’s, who never needed any boxes or lines to write completely straight and uniform for each character as if copying excerpts from finely printed books to the letter.

Soon, you’re reaching the end of the letter, determined to keep the handwriting legible even if you feel like plopping your head on the table and falling asleep— to some degree you still need it to look presentable, after all.

“(P.S.: I still have your hair tie. Do you know if I’ll ever be able to give it back?)”

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#it's finally up :)#yayy #take me back (take me with you)#jjk megumi #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #megumi fluff #megumi angst #jjk x fem!reader #fem!reader #fushiguro tsumiki #fushiguro megumi #megumi #ruer writes

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yournowheregirl · 10 months

Text

part 1 [part 2 - coming soon]

Robin is panicking.

She’s standing in the middle of Lovelace Lingerie and she’s panicking.

There are two reasons why she has always avoided this place like the plague. The first and obvious one being the whole ‘I'm gay and if I stare at this model wearing nothing but a lace bodysuit for a second too long, everyone is going to know exactly how gay I am’ bit. The second reason is just a plain habit. She bought her first bra at the department store, she knows what brand she likes, she knows her size and she knows that she doesn’t want all the frills and the bows and the lace. Just a plain black or white bra (maybe blue if she’s feeling fancy), nothing more, nothing less.

That is until Vickie said something when she stayed over the other day.

“Why are all your bras so boring, Robin?”

Robin never thought her bras were boring. Sure, they were plain and nothing like the colorful lace bras Vickie likes to wear, but they were just there to serve one purpose - to hold her boobs in place while she goes about her day. Plus, before Vickie, she was the only one looking at her bra and she was doing just fine, thank you very much.

But Vickie’s words got stuck in her head, as they often do, which made Robin decide to take matters into her own hands and buy something that’ll make Vickie happy. A final hail Mary to make up for all the arguments they’ve been having these last few weeks.

Though she’s beginning to regret her decision as the sheer amount of choice start to overwhelm her. There’s just so much lace. So many straps. So many colorful bows and flower designs. So many things that say they’re bras, but look more like a flimsy piece of fabric tied together with two strings of floss.

In her state of outright panic, Robin rushes through the store and grabs one of each pair of lingerie that she thinks Vickie will like. She doesn’t even bother to look at the sizing - honestly, what good is a size anyway when this bra is just a bunch of straps and two hearts cut out of red fabric - she just grabs them all and heads straight to the fitting rooms.

As it turns out, she should’ve been looking at the label because nothing seems to fit or suit her. The fabric of the lilac one is scratchy and the green one is just plain ugly. The black one makes her boobs look saggy, while the yellow one is too tight and make her boobs spill out. And don’t even get her started on the neon pink one - that one isn’t even a bra, it’s a torture device.

Oh God, she’s never gonna make it out of this alive. She’s gonna die, right here in this pink and red monstrosity of a fitting room, choked to death by satin straps, and, and- are those walls closing in on her or is she just imagining things?

A knock on the door of the fitting room snaps Robin out of her downwards spiral but her mouth still runs faster than the brain when she calls out, “Who is it?”

“Uh, it’s... it’s Nancy? I work here?” A woman responds from the other side of the door. “You were taking a long time and I was wondering if you were okay, if you needed any help.”

Help. Yes, that’s exactly what she needs. Someone who knows their way around all these lace-y things, who knows what she needs to buy to keep Vickie happy and get out of here as fast as she can.

“Yes.” Robin croaks out. “Yes, please. I definitely needs some help.”

Robin immediately regrets her decision when an actual angel steps into the dressing room rather than an employee. And Robin’s not over-exaggerating, the warm light of the hallway does make it seem like there’s a halo around her brown curls, but it’s Nancy’s smile that makes Robin grow weak in the knees. It might be a customer service smile that she knows all too well, but Nancy makes it look genuinely sweet.

Focus, Robin. She tells herself. You’re here for your girlfriend don’t get distracted by Nancy’s blue eyes or rosy pink lips or-

“Wow.” Nancy breathes, looking around the mess that Robin made of the fitting room.

“I’m sorry! I just got overwhelmed and I just grabbed everything and then I just panicked and then- then this happened.” Robin rambles apologetically.

“Don’t worry. I’ve seen worse.” Nancy smiles politely. “How can I help?”

“Is this sexy?” Robin blurts out and Jesus Christ, can the ground open up and swallow her whole right now? Why would she say something like that?

But Nancy doesn’t seem all that bothered with her question. She just blinks and cocks her head to the side, examining Robin with precision in her eyes.

“It is from our Super Sexy line, so it’s literally designed to be sexy.” Nancy says. “But the most important question is, do you feel sexy in it?”

Robin turns around and takes a good look at herself in the mirror. The color of the bra is nice and the flower and butterflies that are stitched into the fabric are pretty, but she still feels the need to wrap her arms around her body and shield it from prying eyes. It looks like something Vickie would like, it’s similar to what she owns and wears, but Robin feels that it’s just not her.

“Not really.” Robin says softly. “I’m not... all of this. I don’t wear all this complicated lace-y, girly junk and- oh shit, I’m totally insulting your job right in front of you.”

Nancy chuckles and shakes her head. “Oh believe me, you’re fine. We have a lot of things that are a bit... out there, so to say. But if you tell me what it is you’re looking for, I can see if we have something you feel more comfortable in?”

There’s something in Nancy’s eyes that Robin can’t put her finger on, but all she knows is that she’s suddenly telling Nancy everything. From her bra shopping at the department store to Vickie (Robin’s just in time to call Vickie her partner instead of girlfriend) telling her the bras she wears are boring and how she’s here in the hopes of finding something that will make her partner happy.

Nancy listens and nods along to the story, asking her questions about her preferences for colors and styles and even though Robin has know clue what she wants or what she’s talking about, Nancy doesn’t seem to mind. She just smiles and explains things into further detail with no further judgement and that somehow puts Robin’s mind at ease.

Maybe things will be alright after all

“I think I have just the thing for you.” Nancy says. “What’s your size?”

“Uh, I- I think it’s this one?” Robin grabs at the price tag on her back, but she has to twist her way like a contortionist to be able to see it. Nancy’s at her side at a split second, looking back and forth between the price tag and Robin’s cleavage.

“I don’t think this is the right fit. Do you mind if I measure you?” She asks, grabbing the yellow tape measurer from where it was hanging around her neck, a stark contrast to the black dress she’s wearing.

And yeah, Robin does mind, actually. If the satin straps aren’t the ones that are gonna kill her, a pretty girl touching her boobs just might do the trick. Still, Robin finds herself nodding and lifting her arms above her head so Nancy can easily measure her.

The tape measure is surprisingly cold when it hits her skin and instead of focusing on Nancy and her lovely petite hands, Robin starts reciting conjugations of French verbs in her head. It does little to distract her, mostly because Nancy is standing so close that Robin can swell the sweet flowery perfume she has on. Nancy’s touches are light and of course, totally professional, but Robin still feels a goosebumps spreading across her skin when Nancy’s fingertips ghost over her skin.

Christ, get a grip Buckley.

“Be right back.” Nancy smiles as soon as she’s done and disappears out of the fitting room, grabbing the bras that Robin threw on the floor earlier on her way out.

Robin leans against the wall and sighs deeply once she knows Nancy’s out of earshot. She really hopes that Nancy wasn’t able to feel the way her heart sped up just now, but the flimsy fabric of the bra she’s wearing probably did shit at hiding that. Her hand reaches up to check and yup, Nancy was definitely able to feel that.

Oh God, why can’t she just be normal for once? She has a girlfriend for crying out loud! Vickie’s the whole damn reason she’s in this pink boudoir hell-hole in the first place! She just has to keep her eyes on the prize and not let Nancy derail her from the process.

Which is easier said than done when Nancy reappears with a new bra in hand. This one is black and looks plain at first, but Robin is quick to notice the mesh detailing and cut-outs, as well as the silver decorative thread in the straps. It’s simple, yet still more exciting than any of the bras Robin currently has in her closet.

“Just let me know when you tried it on, okay?” Nancy says and with another sweet smile, she disappears again.

Robin shimmies out of the blush pink monstrosity she still had on and puts the black bra on instead. She can feel the difference almost immediately - the fabric is soft and doesn’t itch, the mesh detailing isn’t overtly sexy but just suggestive enough and it must be made of magic because her boobs have never looked this good.

Giddy with excitement, she knocks on the door and lets Nancy back inside.

“And?”

“You’re a bra wizard!” Robin beams, gesturing to herself. “Seriously, look at this! I’ve never looked this good!”

“Just doing my job.” Nancy chuckles, a faint pink blush appearing on her cheeks as she looks Robin up and down. “Uh, how’s the fit? Nothing too tight or anything?”

“Fits like a glove.”

“Good.” Nancy says. Her eyes dart between Robin’s face and her cleavage again, her gaze lingering for a beat too long, before promptly looking away, almost as if she’d been burnt. “Uh, if you decide to buy it, come find me in the store and I’ll ring it up for you, alright?”

“Yeah, alright.” Robin replies softly.

Nancy nods and quickly walks out of the fitting room, shutting the door behind her with a loud bang.

As Robin puts her clothes back on again, she can’t help but wonder what all of that was about. She knows she’s not the best with social cues but even she can recognize that there was something going on there.

Could it be-

No, no, Nancy is just a good saleswoman and Robin is just a customer in her eyes. Nothing more.

Still, Robin can’t help but feel guilty when she feels her heart skip a beat at the mere thought of not just being a customer to Nancy. With a loud sigh, she zips her jacket back up, grabs her bra and heads back into the store.

She manages to find a pair of black panties that match the bra and armed with both of those in hand, she’s able to find Nancy on the other side of the store. Nancy immediately smiles when Robin waves at her and it does nothing to slow down Robin’s already rapid heartbeat.

“Were you able to find everything?”

“Yeah, got something to match as well.” Robin nods, awkwardly holding up the pair of satin black panties.

“Oh, I know from experience that those are very comfortable. Good choice.” Nancy says, and yeah Robin’s not going to stop thinking about that one, isn’t she?

She follows Nancy to the register and her mind is still a bit hazy as she pays and watches Nancy neatly wrap her new items. She even spritzes some sugary sweet perfume onto the bag before she hands it to Robin with a bright smile. “Here you go.”

“Thank you so much for your help, honestly.” Robin says. “I mean, you saw what a mess I made back there, I was so overwhelmed and you- well, you saved me, actually.”

“I was happy to help, really.” Nancy replies. She pauses for a moment, a frown appearing on her face as if she’s thinking about what to say next. “Can I be honest with you?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“I really hope you’re also buying and wearing this set for yourself, not just your partner. You should wear something that makes you feel good, not just because your partner wants it. ” Nancy says firmly. “And frankly, your partner is an idiot if they think you’re boring without a fancy-looking garment. Trust me, you don’t need all the extra frills and ruffles.”

That... That sounds suspiciously like a compliment, maybe even a flirty compliment and Robin’s brain does not know how to deal with that right now. Not after her meltdown from earlier, not after feeling Nancy’s kind eyes and cold hands on her, not while Nancy still has that twinkle in her eyes that makes Robin go just a little insane.

“Th- thank you.” Robin stammers. She grabs the bag a bit tighter, as if that’ll help her get back to reality. It’s still pretty hard though because Nancy looks even prettier in the daylight and- “I gotta gay. Go! I mean- I gotta go. Bye!”

“Have a nice day!” Nancy calls out after her, but Robin’s blood is pumping so loudly in her ears that it mostly gets drowned out.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, what is happening to her?

A firm hand on her shoulder shakes her from her thoughts and Robin turns around with a loud yelp.

“Jesus, it’s just me.” Steve says defensively. “Did you buy the whole store or something? You were in there for a while.”

“Yeah, no, it’s fine. I’m good.” Robin nods a little too obviously, making Steve frown at her. Dammit, why can he always see right through her? But that doesn’t stop her from lying through her teeth. “I’m fine, Steve. Really. I promise.”

Steve hums, still unimpressed. “Alright. If you say so. Glad you got everything you need to woo her right off her feet.”

“Wha- what? Woo who?” Robin panics. How did Steve already know about that weird thing between her and Nancy? Did he have supersonic hearing or something? X-ray eyes? (which, gross, don’t use those eyes in a lingerie store, Steven)

“Ha, you sound like an owl.” Steve snorts. “But I’m talking wooing Vickie, idiot. That’s why you went in there, right?”

Right. Vickie.

brought to you by: me going bra shopping earlier today. also sorry to the vickie stans, i’m sure she’s lovely but she’s not gonna be lovely in this series. stay tuned for part 2! (kudos if you can spot an iconic line from glee that i just had to add in for funsies)

#ronance #ronance fic #robin buckley x nancy wheeler #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #stranger things ficlet #stranger things #ronance ficlet #am i turning into a ronance blog? maybe #but the girls deserve some love too!!#okay going to bed now bye bye

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kowaiitenshii · 11 months

Text

[Wish We Never Met]

Pairing: Kylo Ren x Reader

Plot Summary: You haven’t seen Kylo Ren since he destroyed the Jedi academy you both called home in your youth, and you want nothing more than to forget about him. That doesn’t stop him from reaching out.

Warnings: Kidnapping. Kylo is his own warning. Angst?

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: Hello again everyone! This oneshot is the product of a betrayal prompt from a good friend of mine! If this does well and people enjoy it, I will be open to prompts and requests and if the demand is high enough, I may even write a part 2 for this. Thank you so much for all the love on Sunkiller Lullaby again as well!! Please enjoy!

A perfectly clear night on Ossus, a rare meteor shower had been forecasted that night, and you didn’t dare to miss it.

You and your best friend, Ben Solo, had snuck out against your Master’s wishes to watch the shower together.

It was once in a lifetime, after all.

You couldn’t have thought of a better person to sneak out with, you’d known him since you were just ten years old; not that you had many other friends in the academy regardless.

The two of you never quite fit in with the other padawan learners, having earned reputations for being too reckless, too quick to anger, too ready for a fight. But you found solace in one another, always sparring, studying, or shirking off your responsibilities to go on some ill-advised adventure together.

As the two of you grew, as did your fondness for one another. Master Luke began separating you more and more, fearing that you would build ties too strong to sever.

Attachment, of course, was strictly forbidden.

But that did little to stop you from stealing away to see the person whom you were closest with in the entire world whenever you could.

The two of you laughed like the foolish teenagers you were as you ran through the lush green field littered with wildflowers together hand-in-hand, searching for the perfect spot to watch the show.

Cresting the top of the hill, Ben suddenly dropped to the ground, pulling you along with him as you tumbled down through the long grass. As you came to a stop, landing on top of him at the bottom of the hill, you playfully punched him in the arm.

“You really ought to be more careful Ben! We could have gotten hurt!” you scolded him, still laughing like mad.

“You know I wouldn’t let that happen!” he reassures you, laughing back at you as you shift off of him and take a seat next to him in the tall grass.

The two of you spent a long time in comfortable silence, watching the meteors shoot over your heads. It was an awe-inspiring sight, countless comets of every colour followed by their glowing tails lighting up the entire sky above. It truly was beautiful, and you were still unsure if you’ve seen such beauty since.

You spent hours just watching, enchanted by the ethereal lightshow.

That is, until you looked towards Ben, and instead of watching the beauty of the stars, he was watching you.

Your breath caught in your throat, and your heart swelled in an unfamiliar way as you looked at him, realising in that moment that he had grown up, no longer the awkward, lanky boy you knew as a child.

His eyes sparkled innocently in the dim light, reflecting the colours of the stars. His lips were pink and parted, as if to ask something that was caught just on the tip of his tongue. His long raven hair blew in the gentle breeze, tousled by your tumble down the hill.

For a split second, you envisioned running your fingers carefully through his soft locks to fix it for him before forcing yourself to look away.

Cheeks hot and heart thumping in your chest, you tried to remind yourself of the rules of the Jedi you so desperately tried to uphold. You knew attachment was wrong, and love could only serve to destroy you. And yet, the idea of a life lived without ever knowing love, that kind of love, left a hole in your heart that ached for it.

Clenching your fists so tightly your nails dug into the palms of your hands and closing your eyes, you tried your hardest to push your feelings down, to bottle them up and seal them away.

The gentle feeling of Ben carefully, almost sheepishly placing a large hand to your left cheek and turning you to face him snapped you out of your quiet rumination. The sensation of his touch was warm and tingling, spreading goosebumps across your skin like wildfire.

Your eyes met again, Ben measuring your reaction, looking hesitantly from your eyes to your lips and back again, as if he too could sense what you were feeling.

Given the tender, vulnerable expression that spread across his countenance, you knew that he could. The rough pad of his thumb ghosted over your cheekbone, your skin feeling electrified as he touched it, the energies between you rich and palpable.

“(Y/N)...” He whispered your name like a prayer.

Before he could speak again, you would take his face between your hands, crashing your lips into his in a moment of reckless abandon.

They’re soft and wet, the feeling of the kiss itself and the mixing of energies setting you both on fire.

You lose yourself in it, all teeth and tongue and burning desire, kissing him over and over again.

Ben is just about to lay you down right there, in the soft grass beneath the stars, before you force yourself to pull away. Sitting up pin straight and wiping the spit away from your lips, you were too ashamed to even look back at him.

The world goes black.

The next scene that plays is the one that has torn you apart for years.

Standing before the devastated Jedi academy you called home for nearly your entire life, you watched as it burned to ash. Tears flowed in rivers down your cheeks as you sobbed in agony of all that was lost, all because of the boy you loved.

Falling to your knees, Ben’s name tore its way out of your throat in a grief-stricken scream.

Eyes flying open, you jolt upright in bed.

You’re then hit by the same cold realisation that it was all a dream, as you are every time you have that dream. Although, you suppose it's more of a recollection than a dream.

Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you groan groggily as you spot the familiar silhouette of a man’s astral body across the room.

“Ugh… Go away Kylo.” you moan, already becoming annoyed.

Even if he wasn’t there physically, seeing him through the force hurt all the same.

“You know I can’t, even if I wanted to.” he replies matter-of-factly, and you know it to be true. Whatever unseen force it is that binds you to each other, neither of you could control it.

He haunts you like a ghost, torturing your very soul every time you would connect unannounced. His presence tonight is especially wounding, having been freshly reminded of the feelings you held for him despite everything.

Throwing your covers off, you annoyedly begin to stoke the small fire pit in the centre of your hut, doing your best to ignore Kylo’s dark and magnetic presence looming in the shadows.

“Where are you?” he asks abruptly, looking around the room and searching for any indicators of your location.

You roll your eyes, finally looking in his face. His eyes are locked on you as he stands in the darkness of the room, the light of the flames illuminating his features.

He’s every bit as handsome as you remember, all doe eyes and plump lips and strong nose.

He’s gotten taller, and bulkier in terms of muscle than you remember, no doubt enhanced by his new training. Your heart strings tug painfully in your chest, and you remember why you avoid looking at him when this happens.

“You know I can’t answer that.” you whisper solemnly in reply.

“Why not?” he snaps back instantly.

“You know exactly why, Kylo Ren.” you sigh in irritation, spitting his name at him as if it tastes foul. You throw another log into the fire before standing and turning around, crossing your arms and doing your best to shut him out as your anger and frustrations build.

“It would be so much easier if you would stop hiding, if you would just join me.” He continues, ignoring the vitriol in your tone and trying to coax the answer out of you.

“I’m not hiding, Kylo. You just can’t find me. There’s a difference.” you scoff back at him, vaguely pleased when you hear him let out his own irritated sigh.

You’ve been through this hundreds of times, your answers and his questions never changing. Everytime you speak to him, everytime you look at him, the void in your chest that calls to him grows wider. And with great pain every time, you deny him.

It’s torture, the purest form you could imagine.

“You called to me. In your dream. I heard it.” he asserts in a gentler tone, as if it would change anything. You dig your nails into the skin of your arms in an attempt to temper the rage bubbling up inside of you.

“I’m tired of fighting Kylo.” you sigh. “Can’t you see that? That’s why I’m here, in a hut in the fucking jungle.” you spit, an edge of hurt in your tone that you pray he doesn’t hear.

“Then why won’t you just come to me?” He tries desperately to persuade you. “I will take care of anything, everything you need. It could be so simple if you would just-” he starts on the same tirade that he starts every time you see each other.

The fresh pain of the memories, the aching of your heart at seeing him, listening to the same argument; it’s finally all too much. The dam you’ve built to withhold your emotions finally breaks, your hurt finally overflowing as you spin on your heel to face him, screaming out the truth as you cut him off.

“Because I love you, Ben! Because I love you, and you’ve destroyed everything else I’ve ever cared about! And I hate myself for it!” you bark at him through gritted teeth, hot tears welling up in your eyes and threatening to spill over.

His brow furrows in frustration and shock as he yells back at you.

“You know that isn’t the truth! I didn’t-”

Clutching the sides of your head in frustration, you continue screaming, cutting him off once more.

“Everyday I wake up and I’m forced back into the hell that is the realisation that this is my reality!” you gesture feverishly around the humble, run down hut in which you both stand, then between the two of you. “This is my reality, and I will never forgive you for it Ben.” your voice breaks, your anger spent and only leaving you with aching despair as the tears finally begin to fall.

“I loved you, I really loved you.” you choke out between cries, the growing lump in your throat making it hard to speak.

For once he’s silent, saying nothing as he looks upon you with widened eyes.

He’s visibly taken aback, and the realisation finally hits you that you just admitted your love to him, and that you hadn’t called him by his name, his true name, since the incident that ripped you away from each other.

He turns away from you, hiding the tears welling in his own eyes.

“I don’t need your forgiveness.” he whispers, and you take one last look at him before he promptly vanishes.

Left alone in the crippling emptiness of the hut you call home, you fall to your knees under the crippling weight of your sorrow, wracked with anguished sobs.

Elsewhere in the galaxy, Kylo Ren wipes the stray tears from his face and steels his nerves, before throwing on his cloak and helmet.

He could feel your presence even more acutely in the force now, the bond strengthened by your heated confession. It was certainly not one he had expected, but he had no doubt now that he would track you down.

All he would have to do is follow your signature.

Your words were all the confirmation he needed as he stormed out of his personal quarters to gather a fleet, barking the orders to gather his knights at a commanding officer.

If you refused to give yourself willingly to him, he would just have to take you.

The next morning, you awaken suddenly to the sound of Stormtroopers blowing the door clean off of your hut.

In an instant you leap to your feet, ready to defend yourself from any danger. Time moves in slow motion as you look out the door, the mass of troopers, fronted by the Knights of Ren parting like the fabled red sea.

Blood running cold, your heart drops to your feet as you lay eyes upon their leader who moves to the forefront, Kylo Ren.

You’re stricken with the awful, ice-cold revelation that he had used your bond in the force against you.

It lead him right to you.

Frantically turning to reach for a weapon, you’re cut short as a blaster hits you with a stun ray, rendering you unconscious.

Your body falling to the floor with a soft thud, Kylo Ren strides over to where your body lay crumpled, just within the doorway, sighing regretfully. Crouching over you, he frowns as he softly brushes a lock of hair out of your face.

“It could have been so much easier.” he whispers like an apology, before carefully scooping you into his arms.

He takes a moment to look at you, admiring the beauty of his prize before carrying you onto his ship.

#ben solo x reader #ben solo x you #ben solo x y/n #ben solo x f!reader #kylo ren x y/n #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren x female reader #kylo ren x f!reader #star wars x reader #star wars imagines #star wars imagine #kylo ren x you

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featherandferns · 11 months

Text

outdoor pool(fic)

jj maybank x fem!reader | part of the F.W.B universe, but can be read as a stand-alone too | a little sappy but hopefully not too much!

content warning: drink & drug use; sex (f and m receiving; semi-public); technically drink-driving

word count: 5k

Blurb: Your latest 'date night' involves breaking into a Kook's back garden to swim around in their pool. After fooling around, JJ comes to a realisation.

Kook houses could be mistaken for castles when compared to most places on the Cut. Neatly kept shrubberies and bushes trimmed into ridiculous shapes. Fountains and water features, lit up in sparkly white and exciting red and blue. Obnoxious house names when numbers would easily do the same trick. But numbering was too common for the Kooks. They weren’t just another thing in the bunch; they’re the stand-out special. JJ takes them in as he walks down the dimly lit street, searching for you. You'd said to meet him on Basker Street (buried deep in one of the most prestigious Kook holiday neighbourhoods), and to bring some wine. He'd assumed there wasn't much a standard for the wine, grabbing the cheapest bottle he could find.

The sparsely spread streetlamps glare white on the concrete. When a silhouette of a girl, in a dress, comes into view, JJ smiles. He's pretty certain it's you - even more so when the figure waves - and picks up his pace.

“Hey,” JJ says.

“Hey,” you smile, sharing a brief kiss. The touch of your hand on his cheek is too fleeting – not that he’d ever say. “You found me.”

“What is this?”

“Date night,” you say. You spot the wine and grin, taking it to study the label. “You remembered.”

“Well, you only sent me ten texts to get some,” JJ sarcastically replies with a smile. You roll your eyes and go to dig about in his shorts for his pocketknife.

As you work the bottle open, you ask, “was it the most expensive one on the shelf?”

“Of course,” JJ says, as if insulted you would expect anything less. You glance up at him, bemused. At your struggling to open the wine, JJ takes it from you and does it himself. He fills the quiet (and blocks out your protests) by asking, “what’re we doing here, anyway? Property hunting?”

“It’s date night,” you repeat. Yeah, doesn’t help.

The cork pops out the bottle. JJ goes to toss it but you stop him, taking it and silently putting it in his pocket, a little embarrassed. It makes JJ smile though. The soft parts that you let him see, like your sentimentality, are like catching glimpses of shooting stars. He noticed about two weeks into officially dating you that you had an affinity for keepsakes. Pressed flowers from your walks; seashells from surf dates; the cut-out front of a condom packet, which you eventually confessed was from the first night you two spent, officially together. Whilst JJ had ragged you endlessly, he couldn’t deny that it was unexpectedly adorable.

You take his hand and intertwine your fingers, guiding him down the street. He swigs from the wine and passes it to you, taking a moment to take in the sight of you. Your dress fits snug around your waist, turning tight against your chest. Thin straps over each shoulder. It hangs loose and pretty, ending just before your knees. As you walk, the barely-there breeze from midnight makes it sway. Then he’s taking in the tiny beads threaded into your hair. Pink and blue and green. As you wiggle your fingers more comfortably into his hold, he feels the rings adorning your fingers against his skin, some rubbing against his own. One of them is his. A small token that he’d disguised as a ‘congratulations’ gift after a fight. When JJ had given it to you, he didn’t feel up to confessing that it was so you would have a piece of him. A silent marker that you were taken - taken by him. A symbol of his affection which he couldn’t quite put into words. Couldn’t bring himself to. But when you took it, you didn’t ask why extensively. You accepted his bullshit excuse and smiled, kissing him in thanks before slipping it on. It was too large for your fingers but fit well enough on your thumb. He often saw you play with it, as if perpetually checking it hadn’t fallen off.

“You look pretty, by the way,” he tells you. Smooth, Maybank. You’re a real Romeo.

You look up at him and smile, almost bashful like he just recited prose in your honour. “Thanks. You don’t look too bad yourself, pretty boy.”

You reach up to press a kiss to his lips, then pull away and keep walking down the moonlit street.

JJ appreciates you. He appreciates the way you don’t push him when he’s not so good at the romance part of things. JJ can talk dirty; he could say the most disgusting things that would have a nun wanting to pull a Vincent Van Gogh. He knows how to touch you to have you trembling and begging, but when things get sentimental, he doesn’t always know how to act. He often brushes off compliments with a joke and disguise his own in some stupid tease. But you seemed to notice and understand. You let JJ do things for you – like open the bottle of wine – because at some point you clocked that acts of service were the best way for JJ to show his affection. He hadn’t figured that one out: Kie had, one day when she came to the chateau to find him working on your pushbike, unbeknownst to you. When JJ explained what he was doing and why (that you'd been complaining about the chain always coming off), Kiara took the mick out of him before casually telling him that his ‘love-language’ was acts of service. Whilst JJ had shrugged it off and told her to do one, he did think about it later that day, after he gave you back your bike (which you had, in all honesty, thought was stolen) and saw how your face lit up. Felt how you kissed him in gratitude. Felt how it made his heart lurch in a way that still felt unnatural.

You take the wine from JJ, pulling his thoughts back to reality. He watches as you take a long drink.

“Alright, what’s the plan for this date-night, then?” he asks.

“So, I’m at work the other day, right? And this waitress I work with has a bunch of friends who come here during the summers.”

“Is this gonna be a long story?”

“Shut up.”

JJ chuckles. He takes the wine and drinks, letting you continue.

“So she starts telling me that this girl’s family always leaves the same day, every year, a week before school starts up.”

JJ wants to groan at the reminder that school is just around the corner. Joy, oh, joy.

“So, there’s this big empty Kook house, right? I think, hm, that’s sort of interesting, but don’t deep it all that much. But then she starts telling me how they’ve been having problems with their security and that they were kinda reluctant to leave. They did anyway, after finding out they can get the stuff fixed on the twenty-seventh.”

JJ’s furrows his brows as he processes all the parts of your story. He looks down at you, passing the wine. You take a drink and then grin up at him, becoming giddy.

“So now I’m like: there’s a kook house with no security, no working cameras, and nobody home. Then, the pièce de résistance happens.”

JJ can’t help but mirror your grin, still a little sceptical. The two of you turn down a dark alley as your story begins to come to its climax.

“She starts telling me about this party this girl had there the other night and me (being the polite person that I am) asks to see some pictures. She starts showing me these garden party pics and I notice the biggest fuck-off pool you have ever seen.”

Another swig each of the wine. Your pace is beginning to slow.

“So, now I’m like: kook house; no security; no cameras; nobody home; huge pool; hot boyfriend.”

“Oh?” JJ prompts, smirking.

“And so I present to you…”

You come to a stop and detach your hold from his. Moving to stand in front of him, you gesture to a tall, black-painted fence grandly, as unveiling the latest Amazonian discovery.

“Date night!”

JJ nods, impressed, and holds the wine out to you in approval.

“So, our date night is basically breaking and entering into a Kook’s back garden to swim around in their pool?”

You shrug, as if innocent, and nod up at him. “Yeah, pretty much. Thoughts?”

The kiss he presses to your lips makes you laugh, but there’s no complaints as you melt against him, tugging him a smidge closer by his hands. “I think you’re like something out of my Goddamn dreams.”

“Cute,” you whisper against his lips. He tries to fight off his blush. Pulling away, you stand near the fence. “Give us a boost?”

“Yes, ma’am,” JJ mumbles.

Dumping the wine for a moment, JJ interlocks his fingers to form a makeshift step and boosts you up the fence on the count of three (shamelessly glancing up your skirt as you go). You grunt as you pull your body weight up and over. He hears the thump of your feet landing on the other side. The sight of your fingertips wiggling over the other side of the fence makes him laugh.

“Pass me the wine?”

JJ does as you ask and then he’s hoisting himself over the fence with a grunt. When he jumps down, you’re already wandering across the lawn. His eyes widen as he takes it all in.

There’s a bandstand – a bandstand – off to the side, alongside a lawn swing. On the patio (that looks power-jetted clean) sits a pristine table for eight, with the most high-end barbeque station set up behind. The windows of the downstairs are floor to ceiling; not one smudge or fleck of dirt in sight. He doesn’t bother to inspect the flower arrangements, but he’s sure that if he were to, there wouldn’t be one weed in sight, and not one leaf out of place.

The lights don’t seem to be motion censored because as you move towards the pool - likely searching for the button to get rid of the cover - nothing lights up. It’s only the leftover glow from the streetlights and the moonlight above that illuminate the yard and yourself.

As he watches you a moment and smiles. Calling you pretty was an understatement. Radiant might be a better match, as you smile to yourself whilst working back the cover. The dress and the hair and the detail of the wine is adorable, hinting at all the thought you’ve put into something that you seem to be trying to pass off as ‘incidental.’ Your affinity for petty crime, high sex drive and textbook rebellion nearly brings him to his knees. He wasn’t kidding when he said you were out of his dreams.

“You gonna come over or what?” you call.

“Keep your voice down, huh?” JJ says back, but does as he's told.

He takes the wine from the floor where you’ve ditched it and takes a few more swigs. The whir of mechanics is droning in the background as the pool cover peels back.

“Most of the houses round here are holiday spots,” you remind him. “I bet half of them are empty.”

“Imagine having two houses, huh?” JJ says, turning around to take in the house once more. White walls which look freshly painted...It’s definitely not the chateau or his piece-of-shit home, that’s for sure. “I’d get myself a boat house, I think. Just living on the water forever, you know?”

When he turns around to continue chewing your ear off, his words get stuck in his throat. You’re stripping out of your dress, stepping out of your shoes, until soon you’re standing in just your bralette and panties. As you toss the dress to the side of the grass, you look up at JJ and give a small laugh. Taking the wine, you ask, “you just gonna stand there or you gonna jump in?”

JJ grins, finding his thoughts, and he tugs off his t-shirt. He digs the phone and cork out of his pockets, adding them to the pile, then toes off his boots. He takes the bottle from your outstretched hand and, as soon as it’s in his hold, JJ’s smile twists into mischievous and he shoves you into the water by your shoulder. The small shriek you give out gets drowned out by the pool, making him laugh. When your head emerges, you’re raking your hair off your face.

“JJ! I didn’t wanna get my hair wet!” you cuss at him.

He rolls his eyes, takes another swig, ditches the bottle on the side, then cannonballs into the water. He hears the crash as he breaks through the surface mellow out by the weirdly soothing lull from being underwater. Swimming to the surface, he shakes his head like a dog trying to get dry. As water droplets spray at you, you keep complaining. The only way you get him to stop is by splashing him. That turns into a thing of its own, and by the end the two of you are thoroughly drenched and laughing your heads off.

When the commotion dies down – adrenaline still high in the veins – JJ treads water and looks at you. You’re watching him too, smiling in content, and then you make an adorable face as if to say, ‘not a bad idea, huh?’

JJ swims over, placing one hand on your waist to pull you nearer, and captures you in a soggy kiss. When you break apart, you begin swimming backwards with a small giggle. You move to float on your back and sigh at the sky of stars.

“Imagine living here and doing this anytime you like.”

“I can see how much I’ve got in the bank. Offer to buy it off them,” JJ suggests, swimming to the poolside to retrieve the wine and take another swig.

“Considering your ‘bank’ is a piggy bank, I don’t know if we’ve got much of a shot,” you tell him.

JJ pushes himself up and out of the water. The stones aren’t cold on his feet; it’s a pleasantly warm night. He whistles for your attention and you move to tread water again. Your bralette is stuck tight to your skin from the wet, making it nearly see-through. Nipples hardening under the cool water, they push against the cotton. JJ tries to shove the dirty thoughts that come to the back of his head for later. He then puts on a show of standing to attention at the pool side, making you grin.

“And here we have JJ Maybank, diving for the Pogues of Kildare County. He’s been training for this day his whole life. Let’s see what he’s got,” you commentate in a deep, Kentucky-type voice.

JJ snorts at your antics before gathering himself. He limbers up, shamelessly and subtly flexes his muscles for your benefit, and then dives off the side, air whooshing past his ears. Before he hits the water, he hears a whistle and whoop from you, making him smile as he sinks under. Swimming over to your kicking legs, he comes to the surface about an arm’s length away. You cringe with a smile as he shakes his wet hair out of his face. Taking you by the waist, he pulls you closer. You’re at the shallow end now; JJ settles on his feet.

“What’s the mark, then?”

“Hm,” you pretend to think. Your arms loop around his shoulders and neck, and you float nearer so you can wrap yourself around him, nearly straddling him. “An eight?”

“Tough critic,” JJ complains weakly, grinning down at you.

You pretended to debate over his words, rocking your head from side to side, pursing your lips. “It might be possible to sway me.”

“Oh really?” he says. He leans down so his forehead bumps against yours.

You let out a low giggle. He watches your eyes look down to his lips, lashes coming close to kissing your cheeks. He lets his own gaze sink down. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips. “Yeah.”

JJ presses his lips to yours.

Kissing you feels like coming up for air after diving for hours, or seeing sunlight after a restless winter night. JJ never thought he could become the type of guy who would enjoy the same person forever; thought he would tire of their way of kissing and of their company, and they, in turn, would tire of him. But kissing you never got tiresome. It was like it was always new, and yet it was never changing. The small noises you made, so quiet that if he weren’t waiting to catch them, he never would. The habits you had formed: fingers tethering into his hair, nails scratching at his scalp, and the way JJ loved to tease his teeth against your lower lip.

As the two of you make out, JJ somehow pulls you closer. One of your hands gently brushes down his chest, over his muscles, and he feels as his body responds happily to your touch. The caress of your fingers, one by one, chasing down him. The slip of your leg, tugging you closer, grinding against him. His tongue sensually brushes against yours - one of his hands coming to cup your jaw and angle your head just-so – as the kiss turns licentious. You sigh against his lips, as if breathing new life into him, and JJ feels himself begin to harden. When his hand on your jaw slides down your neck, a brief thought makes him harder still: that his whole palm could wrap around your throat in the most delicious, delicate of ways. He brings it to cup at your breast, palming over the thin, soaked fabric of your bralette. JJ briefly pulls his mouth from yours.

There’s a split second where you let out a breathless moan, head tipping forward, and JJ smiles down at you through barely open eyes.

“Ever done it in a pool?”

You open your eyes, looking up at him. He feels as you grind against him, becoming needy for friction, and he lets his thumb tease at your hardening nipple. Small pants of pleasure slip past your lips as you reply, “can’t say that I have.”

“Wanna cross it off the bucket list, pretty girl?” he wonders, resting his forehead against yours once more.

JJ likes having the control. Of seeing you at his mercy, preening into his touch, whining and desperate and lax, and all for him. Makes him feel like a young God.

Cocky, he rubs you against him with a guiding hand on your ass. “Hm?”

But JJ forgets why he’s so drawn to you, sometimes. Forgets how you’re a little too much like him. It all comes racing back when he feels your hand slipping into his shorts, into his boxers, and you palm at him, hard under your touch. He gasps against your lips, confidence killed short. His eyes slip shut in pleasure, groaning as you start to give him a hand-job.

He can hear the smirk in your words as you ask, “do you?”

Maybe it’s the thrill of it all: of being with you, of sneaking into someone’s pool, of fucking in someone else’s back garden, where if anybody took a moment to glance out their back window, they could see the two of you…JJ’s sure he’s never felt this way. Never felt so raptured; so merciless.

JJ guides a hand to your panties, slipping his fingers under the cotton that’s pasted to your skin. You’re wet against his touch (a different sort of slick to the pool water) and he twitches in your hand at the feel of it. The battle for control fades away as the two of you simultaneously work at getting the other off, desperately chasing your own highs. JJ’s fingers work between your legs, pushing into you slowly, coaxing your thighs to part under his touch. He uses one hand to try and hold you up, but as you keep jacking him off, he feels his resolve breaking. At some point, he works to have you pressed against the pool wall. The water barely reaches the top of your shoulders and JJ’s chest is halfway exposed.

He's groaning, resting his chin on your shoulder, lost in feel of your smaller hand wrapped around him. Your head is slumped against his collarbones, breath hot and fanning on his chest. It’s as if it has been filled with lead and you can’t hold it up, collapsing against him as you pant and gently moan as JJ pumps his fingers in and out of you. In and out. Sometimes your pace falters on him, your hold stumbling when his thumb brushes against your clit, but you soon recover.

The two you know the other’s body well now. There’re no scars to hide and no insecurities to shun. No cellulite or stretch mark for you to be ashamed of, and no faded bruise and semi-healed cigarette burn for JJ to overthink. There’s only you and him, and the promise of pleasure and safety.

JJ feels himself getting close. You seem to know, somehow. Your fingers loop into the threads of his hair, coiling around like a snake, tugging him so his head is nearer to your lips. He’s almost whining, eyes clenched shut, rutting against your hold as he desperately chases his release. There’s a hot, wet breath on the edge of JJ’s ear as you sinfully whisper, “doing so good for me, baby. So good.”

He can’t help but come with a shudder, gasping out a moan, trembling against you. Your name falls into the mix and your hold on him doesn't cease. JJ takes a moment to catch his breath, ensuring he doesn’t stop fingering you. As the euphoric haze begins to fade, and he manages his eyes open, he feels your head once again on his chest. You’re whining too, pitch high and eager, the sounds short as you’re gasping his name as if in plea. He can feel you despairingly driving his fingers deeper, practically riding his hand, and he smirks against the skin of your shoulder. Kisses of fake nicety as he then goes to bite at your skin, never hard enough to break the surface. You moan, louder, sensitive like every nerve ending is on fire. Anybody could hear you. Anybody could see you fucking his fingers. JJ puts more focus to your clit, applying pressure as he rubs, and you seem newly driven. Your hands grab at his shoulders, forcing your body on his fingers harder. Deeper. JJ pulls back enough to look down at you, eyes hooded, and feels his spent dick twitch at the sight of you using him to find release. Mouth hung open, gasping and panting, eyes clenched shut as if it’s all incomprehensible. Something from his Goddamn dreams.

JJ uses his spare hand to gently push back your hair from your face, swiping a finger over the apple of your cheek.

“That’s it, baby,” he coaxes. He scissors his fingers, pushing against your walls. You’re close. He can feel it. He can hear it. The sloppily disturbance of the water from your movement is so obscenely filthy in the context of what’s happening. Anybody could see you. JJ presses more wet kisses to your neck, to your collarbone. Anywhere his lips can reach until they find home on yours. “Come on, baby. You can let go. Come on.”

Finally, the tether snaps. Your moan is shameless and loud, as if you’ve forgotten where you are. As if there’s nothing else that you need to know expect that JJ’s there, easing you through it all. He feels as your walls convulse around his fingers, pushing him out and pulling him in, and he pants through his arousal as he watches you come. Watches as your teeth sink into your lower lip. As your face shines hot. The pool water droplets shining on your skin. How you’re shaking under him. Watches as you ease your eyes open, meeting his gaze. Sees the unshed tears in your lash line from the pleasure. The bashful, thankful smile you barely manage to show. There’s the feeling of one of your hands on his wrist, gently but firmly easing his touch away, overstimulated. When you gasp as his fingers slip out of you, all too easy, you’re still staring into his eyes. JJ’s thoughts are mostly vacant except for a few, and all of them are about you.

Your hand cups at his jaw so you can pull him into a kiss. It’s fleeting and sweet.

“If we ever win the lottery, we’re getting a pool,” you tell him.

JJ laughs, breathless. “Agreed.”

“Jesus. Pretty good date, huh?” you chuckle. JJ can’t help but kiss you again.

“Hell yeah.”

You both pull back enough to take the other in fully. JJ tucks himself back into his boxers, and you correct your underwear so the both of you are decent. You look around at the garden, as if remembering where you are.

“We should probably get out of here before we get caught,” you say. You don’t sound overly concerned though. JJ smiles.

“Think we might’ve blown our cover, somehow,” he agrees.

You roll your eyes, diffident. JJ swims backwards, extending a hand to bring you with him. Neither of you look down into the water. Instead, you both swim towards the deep end again, where your belongings had been ditched. The two of you climb out into the balmy one-in-the-morning air. JJ goes to your clothes – shoving his phone and the cork back into his shorts – and picks up your dress. The two of you swap the wine and dress, you having just taken a drink, and JJ takes a swig too.

“You ride your bike here?” you wonder as you pull on the dress. It seems to be a bit of a struggle against your wet skin.

“John B gave me a lift,” JJ replies. He pulls on his shirt. At your struggle to work up the straps, JJ walks over to help. “You walk?”

“Drove. I can give us a lift to the chateau. Told my parents I'd crash there tonight,” you say. JJ nods.

Once you’re dressed, you look up at him and smile. He's heart thuds painfully in his chest. He leans down to kiss you, chaste and tender. The two of you start back to the fence. JJ boosts you over, hands the wine, climbs over himself. You hold hands as you walk to your car. Sliding into the passenger side, JJ sighs against the seat. The wine’s now empty and he shoves the bottle under the back seat. You get behind the wheel and start up the engine. As the car blinks to life, coughing up a new lung in the process, the radio kicks in. It’s tuned into some crackly channel which is only just in service, playing mostly oldies and classics. The volume is low, just loud enough to tune out the concerning noise of the engine, and you reverse out of your spot and begin down the road.

JJ relaxes into the seat, crossing his ankles. There's one of his caps on the dashboard that he left the other day; taking it, he puts it on his head. JJ watches as you dig about in the centre console for your cigarettes. Holding one between your lips, you light it up with a flick of your lighter. You know JJ doesn’t mind you smoking in the car so you don’t bother cracking a window. He watches you take a drag, leaning one elbow on the window frame, finger cradling the cig, as you use the other to leisurely steer. The roads are dead. It’s dark and your headlights are on low. JJ glances out the side window to take in the starry night, looking past his reflection in the dark. Your fingers drum on the steering wheel as Rich Girl starts up. He hears as you hum along quietly, lazy as if unaware you are, and he smiles. His own fingers tap along to the beat on his thigh. Glancing over to you, he watches you change hands on the wheel (cigarette precariously propped between two fingers). He takes the chance to grab at the hand nearest him, pulling it to his lips to press kisses against your knuckles. Your eyes flit to him as he does, smiling sweetly, and you move to interlock your fingers with his.

“I don’t want summer to end,” JJ tells you, his voice low in confession.

“Me neither,” you reply.

The radio host starts lamely interrupting the end of the song, hyping up what’s to come next for the truck drivers and road trippers, driving in the dead of the night.

“What’s gonna happen with us, at school?” you wonder. There’s an anxiety to your voice.

JJ shrugs. He answers honestly. “I don’t know. But I’m not going anywhere.”

“You mean that, right? Like, you’re not just gonna dip?” you worry.

JJ frowns. “No. I’m not gonna dip.”

“Okay,” you say, finding a smile again. You nod, looking back to the road. “Okay.”

As the song comes to a close, a thought seems to flash in your mind and your head whips to look at him. “You know I’m not gonna dip either, right?”

JJ laughs, “Yeah, baby, I know.”

“Okay,” you say, chuckling. “Just wanted to check.”

Everything about the night is infinite. The pool and the wine and the sneaking. The fooling around and the tender moments after. And now, in the car, with the pair of you easily slipping between sentimental and sincere, carefree and young. He loves that he can do this with you. Loves how he can trust you to understand him; how you’re a little bossy and a little controlling, but how you also allow him to see the nostalgic, tender-hearted teenage girl beneath it all. The girl who keeps corks from five-dollar wine and collects napkins from breakfast diners. Loves how you feel safe enough with him to mess around in someone else’s back garden; to let him have you, all of you, nearly every night.

The words come to JJ, easy now. Obvious. The many layers of feelings that he had whenever he thought of you or whenever he was around you seem so easily condensed and summarised in that one word. He always thought it would be terrifying to feel it, and even more terrifying to say it. But with you, it isn’t. If anything, it’s easier. Simpler. It encapsulates all the things JJ likes about you, and even the things that aggravate him too.

“I love you.”

Your humming stops. You glance over to him, eyes a little wide. The brief wash of anxiety that drenches JJ passes quickly when he sees the corner of your lips twitch into a smile.

"Really?" you ask gently. Somewhat disbelieving. As if there could be any doubt in his mind. As if you weren't easy for JJ to fall in love with.

JJ smiles back. It might be the softest, sweetest smile he's ever had the pleasure to show someone. Only you. "Really."

When you giggle, it's quiet; teeth sinking into your lower lip. The moonlight washes over you. Looking back to the road, you continue smiling, giddy like a school girl after her first kiss. JJ can't help but watch you. Now that he's said it once, he wants to say it again and again. He won't though. Doesn't want to be too much, too fast. But then the silence stretches too long, making him antsy.

"Any chance you might feel the same way?" he tentatively asks, hating how desperate it sounds.

Your face shocks with realisation. Laughing, you look to him. "Oh shit! Yeah, I love you too."

JJ laughs along, shaking his head.

"Sorry. Just caught me off guard. Kinda forgot I had to reply," you confess, chuckling. Rolling his eyes, JJ squeezes your hand, still intertwined with his. He's pinned each and every hope on you; every wish for the future and every regret of the past. No matter what happens now, the two of you are forever tethered to this moment and to those words. To each other.

Your demeanour softens. Bringing his hand to your lips, you press a kiss to the skin. His knuckles are permanently scarred; having broken and healed over so many times. But so are yours. Same coin: different sides. When you repeat the phrase, it's as if you're passing a secret and whispering a prayer straight to God's ear.

"I love you."

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